Deluding Who About What?

 

Dan J. Bye

 

Sheffield Humanist Society

 

 

In 2006, Richard Dawkins published his first book on the subject of atheism (The God Delusion. London: Bantam Press).  In early 2007, Alister McGrath’s response (co-written with his wife, Joanna Collicutt McGrath) appeared (The Dawkins Delusion? London: SPCK).

 

The Dawkins Delusion? Is the latest of several McGrath books to bear the Archbishop of Canterbury’s all-purpose imprimatur-esque claim that, “Alister McGrath invariably combines enormous scholarship with an accessible and engaging style.”   I have been following McGrath’s career closely since The Twilight of Atheism, and there and elsewhere I have found his scholarship to be flawed and his style uneven.   

 

I am not particularly interested in fighting Richard Dawkins’ corner. Firstly, he can look after himself. Secondly, atheism does not stand or fall by Dawkins’ presentation of the issues. Thirdly, I don’t always agree with Dawkins.  The God Delusion is not the book I hoped he would write. This is not, then, primarily a defence of Dawkins.  My purpose here is simple: to document the scholarly failings of Alister McGrath.   It comes as no surprise to me to discover how many faults can be found in the 78 pages of The Dawkins Delusion? (only 65 pages of text, the rest being notes and bibliography), but it might come as a shock to those who believe what they read on the back of the book, where the publisher's blurb presents The Dawkins Delusion? (hereafter abbreviated to DD) as “a reliable assessment of The God Delusion” (hereafter abbreviated to GD).

 

In DD, McGrath comments: “One obvious response [to GD] would be to write an equally aggressive, inaccurate book…”   But to do so would be “pointless and counterproductive, not to mention intellectually dishonest”. (DD, p.xi). Unfortunately, DD is aggressive, inaccurate, and arguably intellectually dishonest.  McGrath also notes that to publish a “litany of corrections” to Dawkins would be “catatonically boring” (DD, p.xii).  I, however, unapologetically adopt the “litany of corrections” approach, simply because it is good to set McGrath’s scholarly pretensions against the reality, making the contrast as stark as possible.  Early versions of this document were criticised for failing to distinguish between different kinds of faults: I had started at the beginning of the book and worked through to the end, noting the problems as I went, and some readers disliked that approach.  I have now classified McGrath’s solecisms, giving this review something approaching a helpful structure.

 

Finally, I welcome feedback. I may have made mistakes myself, or I may have missed more of McGrath’s mistakes. Either way, you can tell me at: delusion @ sheffieldhumanists.org.uk

 


MISQUOTATIONS, MISREPRESENTATIONS OR MISINTERPRETATIONS

 

In this section I discuss occasions where McGrath misquotes, misrepresents or misinterprets The God Delusion, or fails to deal adequately with the arguments.


 

God is a delusion – a ‘psychotic delinquent’ invented by mad, deluded people. That’s the take-home message of The God Delusion.”

(DD, p.1.)

 

Firstly, Dawkins does not use the words “mad, deluded people.”  Secondly, Dawkins does not simply say that God is a “psychotic delinquent”: McGrath takes the phrase out of context.  On the page cited by McGrath, Dawkins compares two different concepts of God:

 

“Compared with the Old Testament’s psychotic delinquent, the deist God of the eighteenth-century enlightenment is an altogether grander being.” (GD, p.38)

 


 

Although Dawkins does not offer a rigorous definition of a ‘delusion’, he clearly means a belief that is not grounded in evidence – or, worse, that flies in the face of the evidence.

(DD, p.1)

 

Dawkins does define what he means by “delusion”:

 

“The word ‘delusion’ in my title has disquieted some psychiatrists who regard it as a technical term, not to be bandied about… I need to justify my use of it.” (GD, p.5)

 

Dawkins quotes the definition from the Penguin English Dictionary (“false belief or impression”), and notes that

 

“Microsoft Word defines a delusion as a ‘persistent false belief held in the face of strong contradictory evidence, especially as a symptom of psychiatric disorder.’ The first part captures religious faith perfectly.”  (GD, p.5)

 

So Dawkins is not using the word in a technical sense – hence the lack of “rigor” in his definition. But why doesn’t McGrath cite the definition that Dawkins does provide?


 

Dawkins insists that Christian belief is a ‘persistently false belief held in the face of strong contradictory evidence.’

(DD, p.5)

 

McGrath cites GD, p.5, where we find that far from being something that Dawkins “insists” upon, the quoted line is a definition of ‘delusion’ from Microsoft Word. McGrath slightly misquotes it. It should read, ‘persistent false belief’, not ‘persistently false belief’.

 


 

In earlier writings, he asserted that the third-century Christian writer Tertullian said some particularly stupid things, including, ‘It is by all means to be believed because it is absurd.’ This is dismissed as typical religious nonsense. ‘That way madness lies’. He’s stopped quoting this now, I am pleased to say, after I pointed out that Tertullian actually said no such thing. Dawkins had fallen into the trap of not checking his sources, and merely repeating what older atheist writers had said.”

(DD, p.5-6)

 

McGrath here cites Dawkins’ essay Viruses of the Mind. This was first written in 1991, and has been reprinted in Dahlbom, Bo (ed.) (1993). Dennett and his critics : demystifying mind. Oxford: Blackwell, and Dawkins, Richard and Menon, Latha (ed.) (2004). A Devil’s Chaplain: selected essays. London: Phoenix.  Viruses of the Mind  is, so far as I have been able to discover, the only time Dawkins has mentioned Tertullian in print.  McGrath first pointed out the mistake in Dawkins’ God (2004, pp.99-101).  McGrath claims the credit for preventing Dawkins from constantly misquoting Tertullian, as though it were something Dawkins did all the time. Apart from Viruses of the Mind, however, Dawkins seldom refers to Tertullian. I did find one other reference, in a lecture he gave in 2005, so he may have repeated it in speeches based on Viruses of the Mind, but it doesn’t appear in any of his other books. Since the one time Dawkins did misquote Tertullian in one of his books was some 13 years before McGrath’s comments were published, it looks to me like McGrath is overdramatising his role.

 

In Dawkins’ God, McGrath summarises Dawkins’ view:

 

“In his view, Tertullian’s approach – as evidenced by these two isolated citations – is just like that of the White Queen in Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking-Glass, who insisted on believing six impossible things before breakfast.” (Dawkins’ God, p.100)

 

Hilariously, however, and had McGrath paid rather more attention to the source material he would have avoided this careless mistake, the White Queen merely claims that she “sometimes” believed “as many as six impossible things before breakfast” (Dawkins, A Devil’s Chaplain, p.164).  

 

The final element of McGrath’s accusation against Dawkins is that Dawkins was “merely repeating what older atheist writers had said”.  McGrath doesn’t cite these “atheist writers”, which isn’t very helpful: I’ve tried to find other references to the Tertullian quote in my own collection of atheist books, but the only one I have found is Bernard Williams’ essay Tertullian’s Paradox, in New Essays in Philosophical Theology, edited by Antony Flew and Alasdair MacIntyre and first published as long ago as 1955. However, Williams is clear that he is not trying to explain what Tertullian really meant.   Dawkins does cite Sir Thomas Browne’s Religio Medici (1643) as the source of one of his Tertullian quotes, and Browne was not an atheist.  The article cited by McGrath in Dawkins’ God in support of his contention that the misunderstanding of Tertullian has been exposed for some time, is available online: Sider, R.D. (1980). ‘Credo quia absurdum?’ Classical World, vol. 73, (7), pp.417-419. (McGrath wrongly gives the date of this article as 1978 in Dawkins’ God.). Sider observes that “the largest portion of modern scholarship” has understood Tertullian in an anti-rationalist way.  Hardly just an atheist mistake, then.  See also Boyle on Atheism.

 


 

Dawkins takes issue with the approaches developed by Thomas Aquinas in the thirteenth century, traditionally known as the ‘Five Ways’… Although traditionally referred to as ‘arguments for God’s existence’, this is not an accurate description. All they do is show the inner consistency of belief in God…Dawkins misunderstands an a posteriori demonstration of the coherence of faith and observation to be an a priori proof of faith – an entirely understandable mistake for those new to this field, but a serious error nonetheless.”

(DD, p.7-8)

 

It’s difficult to see Dawkins “mistake” as a “serious error”, since the philosophy of religion has for generations taken Aquinas’ “five ways” as archetypal categories of arguments purporting to demonstrate the existence of a God.  That this turns out not to have been Aquinas’ intention is interesting, on one level, but not important to the issues Dawkins is discussing.  Had Dawkins written a book without mentioning the classical “arguments for the existence of God”, that would have been seen as a serious omission.   As Fergus Kerr noted in 2001 (Kerr, Fergus (2001). ‘Theology in Philosophy: revisiting the five ways.’ International Journal for Philosophy of Religion, vol. 50 (1-3), pp.115-130)):

 

“changing approaches to the study of Aquinas have not yet much affected  standard expositions of his arguments for the existence of God.”  (p.115).

 

It’s surprising to find McGrath accusing Dawkins of confusing a posteriori with a priori arguments, since Dawkins clearly states:

 

“Arguments for God’s existence fall into two main categories, the a priori and the a posteriori. Thomas Aquinas’ five are a posteriori arguments…” (GD, p.80).

 


 

Oxford philosopher Richard Swinburne is one of many writers to argue that the capacity of science to explain itself requires explanation… Swinburne’s argument asserts that the intelligibility of the universe itself needs explanation.”

 (DD, p.12).

 

McGrath creates the impression that Dawkins ignores Swinburne.  But Dawkins addresses Swinburne’s argument (citing the same book as McGrath does) on pp.147-150 of GD. For Swinburne's response, see here.


 

Dawkins dismisses Gould’s thoughts without giving them serious consideration. ‘I simply do not believe that Gould could possibly have meant much of what he wrote in Rocks of Ages.’”

(DD, p.13)

 

The way McGrath tells it, it looks like Dawkins was responding to the view that “there are limits to science” (DD, p.13).  But he wasn’t.  He was responding to the idea that scientists can’t (or shouldn’t) comment on the question of the existence of God (see GD, p. 55; the quote cited by Dawkins appears on GD, p.57).  In which case, asks Dawkins, on what basis did Gould make his judgements on the question?  McGrath claims (DD, p.13) that Gould had “simply articulated the widely held view that there are limits to science.” Dawkins sees it differently: “It is conceivable that he really did intend his unequivocally strong statement that science has nothing whatever to say about the question of God’s existence…” (GD, p.57).  You have to see this in the context of Gould’s notion of Non-overlapping Magisteria,  with which McGrath himself disagrees (DD, p.18). It’s not about “the limits of science” but the subject matter of science. Could someone like Swinburne legitimately say that science has nothing to say on the existence of God? Hardly.  And surely McGrath, with his “scientific theology”, must argue for some overlap too.  Dawkins considers the existence of God to be a scientific hypothesis, and McGrath offers no counter-argument.


 

The same view, much to Dawkins’ irritation, is found in Sir Martin Rees admirable Cosmic Habitat, which (entirely reasonably) points out that some ultimate questions ‘lie beyond science’. As Rees is the President of the Royal Society, which brings together Britain’s leading scientists, his comments deserve careful and critical attention.”

(DD, p.13-14)

 

Dawkins’ response, which doesn’t seem particularly irritable to me, is: “I would prefer to say that if indeed they lie beyond science, they most certainly lie beyond the province of theologians as well.” (GD, p.56).   

 

Rees’ book is actually entitled Our Cosmic Habitat.  He is also now Lord Rees (he was knighted in 1992, but given a life peerage in 2005).  It would be interesting to see what would happen were “careful and critical attention” given to his comments on his own religious position. He has described himself as a “practising, but non-believing Christian”, and goes to church because it “was a custom of my tribe and I stick with it.” (See also a similar quote apparently given to Dawkins in personal communication, GD, p.14).  


 

“…those who want to talk simplistically about scientific ‘proof’ or ‘disproof’ of such things as the meaning of life, or the existence of God.

(DD, p.14)

 

A waste of ink, since Dawkins doesn’t talk like that.  Dawkins says:

 

“That you cannot prove God’s non-existence is accepted and trivial, if only in the sense that we can never absolutely prove the non-existence of anything. What matters is not whether God is disprovable (he isn’t) but whether his existence is probable.” (GD, p.54).

 


 

 Science is the only reliable tool that we possess to understand the world. It has no limits. We may not know something now – but we will in the future. It is just a matter of time. This view, found throughout Dawkins’ body of writings, is given added emphasis in The God Delusion, which offers a vigorous defence of the universal scope and conceptual elegance of the natural sciences... Dawkins does, I have to say with regret, tend to portray anyone raising questions about the scope of the sciences  as a science-hating idiot.

(DD, p.15).

 

It is regrettable that McGrath chooses to caricature Dawkins on this issue, instead of engaging with his arguments.  This is what Dawkins says about limits (in a non-NOMA sense):

 

“Perhaps there are some genuinely profound and meaningful questions that are forever beyond the reach of science. Maybe quantum theory is already knocking on the door of the unfathomable. But if science cannot answer some ultimate question, what makes anybody think that religion can?” (GD, p.56)

 

Dawkins’ position is therefore not that science has no limits, but that the limits of science are the limits of any kind of inquiry. Or, to put it another way, if you can’t find out by using the tools of science (which are many and varied), there is no other way to find out (which isn’t to say that no answers could be given at all).  McGrath has nothing to say on this.

 


 

[Sir Peter] Medawar suggests that scientists need to be cautious about their pronouncements on these matters, lest they lose the trust of the public by confident and dogmatic overstatements.

(DD, p.17)

 

This is a pragmatic or tactical point. It’s not about the epistemological limits of science, or the extent of scientific explanation, but about ‘what people might think’.  It might be good advice, but it’s not exactly a rigorous argument.   It is troubling to find, though, having read and re-read The Limits of Science (the Medawar book cited by McGrath), that the sentiment cannot be found there at all.  He does warn that ruling out questions about “first and last things” is unsatisfying and overlooks the fact that such questions have meaning to those asking them.  But I cannot find anything about loss of trust or overconfidence in the terms McGrath leads us to expect.     

 

McGrath’s distinctly dodgy deployment of Medawar is worth exploring in more detail.  McGrath says that Medawar “distinguishes between what he calls ‘transcendent’ questions, which are better left to religion and metaphysics, and questions about the organization and structure of the material universe.” (DD, p.17).  Noting that Dawkins and Medawar agree on the possibilities of scientific progress, McGrath continues: “So what of other questions? What about the question of God? Or of whether there is purpose within the universe?”    And then he quotes Medawar:

 

“That there is indeed a limit upon science is made very likely by the existence of questions that science cannot answer, and that no conceivable advance of science would empower it to answer… I have in mind such questions as:

            How did everything begin?

            What are we all here for?

            What is the point of living?

Doctrinaire positivism – now something of a period piece – dismissed all such questions as nonquestions or pseudoquestions such as only simpletons ask and only charlatans profess to be able to answer.”

(The Limits of Science, p.66),

 

McGrath continues, “Perhaps The God Delusion might have taken Sir Peter by surprise, on account of its late flowering of precisely that ‘doctrinaire positivism’ which he had, happily yet apparently prematurely, believed to be dead.” (DD, p.18).

 

The first thing we should notice is that Medawar doesn’t dump his “transcendent questions” into just two laps – those of religion and metaphysics.  In fact, he offers four alternatives: “myth, metaphysics, imaginative literature or religion.” (The Limits of Science, p.88). 

 

Secondly, note the ellipsis in the passage quoted from Medawar. It’s quite obvious why McGrath has omitted that particular bit of text.  Medawar says: “These are the questions that children ask – the ‘ultimate questions’ of Karl Popper.” (The Limits of Science, p.66). Later in the book, Medawar expands the analogy with children’s “Why?” questions: “a mother’s answers are palliative rather than explanatory. It is not necessary that they be right or even comprehensible – and often they are not. But they give satisfaction enough to bring the exploratory ritual temporarily to a standstill.” (The Limits of Science,  p.92).  This is not a flattering picture of religion’s role in ‘answering’ the ultimate questions!  No wonder McGrath brushes it under the carpet.

 

Thirdly, note that Medawar does not in fact include “the question of God” in his list of questions science cannot answer.  McGrath gives the impression that Medawar does think of the  existence of God as an issue beyond the limits of science, but it is not clear that this is the case.   Chapter 7 of The Limits of Science is entitled “The Question of the Existence of God” (p. 94-99).  Nowhere in that chapter does Medawar explicitly say that the existence of God is a “transcendental question”, to be left to myth, metaphysics, imaginative literature and religion.    Says Medawar:

 

“I believe that a reasonable case can be made for saying, not that we believe in God because He exists but rather that He exists because we believe in Him.”  (The Limits of Science, p.94)

 

“I regret my disbelief in God and religious answers generally, for I believe it would give satisfaction and comfort to many in need of it if it were possible to discover and propound good scientific and philosophic reasons to believe in God.” (p.96).

 

“To abdicate from the rule of reason and substitute for it an authentication of belief by the intentness and degree of conviction with which we hold it can be perilous and destructive.”  (p.97)

 

So Medawar, despite his expression of regret at being an unbeliever, is thus clearly not willing to look outside of reason to decide what to believe (“I suppose that’s just my trouble: always wanting reasons”, he says (p.97)), and, crucially, does not say that “good scientific and philosophic reasons to believe in God” are in principle unobtainable.  He thinks religion is untrue, whereas “it is not useful or even meaningful” to ask whether “questions having to do with first and last things”  are true or false (The Limits of Science, p.92)  – what matters is whether the answers “bring peace of mind” (in other words, whatever answers myth, metaphysics, imaginative literature or religion might come up with, they can never claim to be right – that’s the price of being unscientific).

 

Here another quotation from The Limits of Science:

 

“The failure of science to answer questions about first and last things does not in any way entail the acceptability of answers of other kinds; nor can it be taken for granted that because these questions can be put they can be answered. So far as our understanding goes, they can not.” (p.60)

 

This is a remarkably similar sentiment to that expressed by Dawkins in GD, in relation to questions that supposedly lie beyond science:

 

“I would prefer to say that if indeed they lie beyond science, they most certainly lie beyond the province of theologians as well… The fact that a question can be phrased in a grammatically correct English sentence doesn’t make it meaningful, or entitle it to our serious attention. Nor, even if the question is a real one, does the fact that science cannot answer it imply that religion can.” (GD, p.56).

 

McGrath accuses Dawkins of “doctrinaire positivism”, of holding that questions such as “does god exist?” are pseudoquestions.  But Dawkins doesn’t think that “does god exist?” is a pseudoquestion, unlike the logical positivists, who held that it was meaningless.  Dawkins thinks that the existence of God is a scientific question, capable of a scientific answer. Not, to emphasise the point, that science can disprove God, but that science can certainly shed light on the probability of God.

 

To return to Medawar, what does he think of religion’s capacity to answer questions about “first and last things” in the right kind of way (i.e. being neither true nor false, the issue is whether religious answers bring peace of mind)?

 

“Whatever else we may expect of transcendent answers, we also expect that they should not be outrageously incongruent with the world of experience and common sense – for if the incongruence is flagrant and blatant, we shall lose peace of mind. Nowhere is this incongruence more apparent than in the problem of evil and of reconciling the idea of a benevolent God with the natural dispositions and events that are so difficult to reconcile with it.” (The Limits of Science, p.93)

 

Having reviewed what The Limits of Science actually says, I submit that McGrath’s use of out-of-context quotes in support of a dubious line of attack on Dawkins is a mischievous abuse of Medawar’s intentions.

 


 

… those natural scientists – such as Dawkins – who refuse to concede any limits to the sciences.

(DD, p.18)

 

As I have shown, it is not true that Dawkins refuses to “concede” limits to the sciences.

 


 

…Dawkins’ rigid insistence that real scientists are atheists.

(DD, p.20).

 

McGrath cites Owen Gingerich, Francis Collins, and Paul Davies as counter-examples.   But Dawkins doesn’t insist on anything of the kind, rigidly or otherwise. In the section of his book addressing “the argument from admired religious scientists” (GD, pp.97-103), Dawkins (explicitly countering those who cite religious scientists as some kind of pro-religious argument) himself names Newton, Michael Faraday (says Dawkins, “We have no reason to doubt Michael Faraday’s sincerity as a Christian…”,GD, p.98), James Clerk Maxwell (“an equally devout Christian”, GD, p.98), Lord Kelvin, Arthur Peacocke, Russell Stannard, John Polkinghorne, and Francis Collins.  So Dawkins is unlikely to be surprised by McGrath’s revelations.  Indeed, Dawkins says he has had “amicable discussions” with Peacocke, Stannard and Polkinghorne, and - far from insisting that real scientists are atheists – confesses merely to being “baffled, not so much by their belief in a cosmic lawgiver of some kind, as by their belief in the details of the Christian religion: resurrection, forgiveness of sins and all.” (GD, p.99)

 


 

but the fine details of such surveys are actually beside the point. Dawkins is forced to contend with the highly awkward fact that his view that the natural sciences are an intellectual superhighway to atheism is rejected by most scientists…

(DD, p.21)

 

McGrath piles abuse on his caricature:  Dawkins’ “insistence that all ‘real’ scientists ought to be atheists” is “petulant” and “dogmatic” (DD, p.21).   But where does Dawkins say anything of the kind?   Instead, in arguing against the view that the existence of religious scientists demonstrates the value of religion, he identifies a number of religious scientists himself (see above). He also says:

 

“Great scientists who profess religion become harder to find through the twentieth century, but they are not particularly rare. I suspect that most of the more recent ones are religious only in the Einsteinian sense which… is a misuse of the word. Nevertheless, there are some genuine specimens of good scientists who are sincerely religious in the full, traditional sense.” (GD, p.99)

 

It’s fair to say that Dawkins isn’t much impressed by religious scientists, but it’s also perfectly clear that he doesn’t think that “real” scientists must be atheists.

 


 

…consider his censorious remarks about Freeman Dyson, a physicist widely tipped to win a Nobel Prize for his groundbreaking work in quantum electrodynamics. On being awarded the Templeton Prize in Religion in 2000, Dyson gave an acceptance speech celebrating the achievements of religion, while noting (and criticizing) its downside. He was also clear about the downside of atheism, noting that ‘the two individuals who epitomized the evils of our century, Adolf Hitler and Joseph Stalin, were both avowed atheists.’ Dawkins regarded this as a craven act of apostasy and betrayal…

(DD, p.22)

 

First of all, let it be made crystal clear: Adolf Hitler, at least, was not an avowed atheist.  Therefore Freeman Dyson, for all his eminence, was merely peddling a particularly grubby anti-atheist lie.   Secondly, it must be acknowledged that the ability of the Templeton Foundation to lavish huge wads of cash on individuals raises serious questions about its influence on scientists. For some discussion, see  this article and this article.   Dyson’s Templeton speech can be found here, and the original exchange of words involving Dawkins and Dyson among others can be found here.  Dawkins’ sharp response to Dyson (reproduced in part in GD) is merely a sarcastic attack on what Dawkins sees as nonsense – he also identifies a gap between Dyson’s claim to be a Christian, and his actual beliefs, which appear much more unorthodox than is usual.  McGrath had the opportunity to discuss the theology behind this polemical dispute, but instead concentrates on misrepresenting Dawkins’ stance.

 


 

Dawkins is so unswervingly committed to this obsolete ‘warfare’ model that he is led to make some very unwise and indefensible judgements. The most ridiculous of these is that scientists who believe in, or contribute to, a positive working relationship between science and religion, represent the ‘Neville Chamberlain’ school. This comparison is intellectual nonsense, not to mention personally offensive.

(DD, p.24)

 

McGrath notes that Dawkins singles out some comments by Michael Ruse as a particular target.  What he doesn’t do is notice what it was about Michael Ruse’s article that might have inspired Dawkins’ “Neville Chamberlain” analogy.  McGrath is self-confessedly bewildered as to what point Dawkins is trying to make, and he wonders if Ruse ’s crime was to criticise Dawkins (DD, p.24).  Apparently that sort of personal abuse is alright by McGrath, but if you wonder if the Templeton Prize might influence what scientists say then you’re a social leper. However, Dawkins’ point is perfectly clear (GD, p.66-69). He’s talking about the tendency – especially in the United States where, as Dawkins notes, the political situation favours such a move - to try to build anti-creationist alliances by denying that there could be any conflict between science and religion. This gets mainstream believers on board, and Dawkins acknowledges that his own stance would make him a poor witness in a creationist case because for him evolution and atheism are indeed linked (GD, p.68).   Dawkins makes two points: first, that NOMA might be popular for political reasons (and it is certainly unclear to me why McGrath would reject this out of hand – there’s a long tradition of sociological study of trends in science, identifying political motives rather than pure scientific ones); secondly, NOMA is mistaken. And we know McGrath agrees with Dawkins on that.  

 

To return to Michael Ruse, Dawkins cites an article Ruse wrote for Playboy (GD, p.67), in which Ruse writes:

 

“Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt did not like Stalin and communism. But in fighting Hitler they realized that they had to work with the Soviet Union. Evolutionists of all kinds must likewise work together to fight creationism.”

 

Dawkins says he can see some tactical value here, and indeed he has worked with religious figures himself in the past against creationism (See Guardian, 7 April 2002).  But notice Ruse’s World War II analogy: you can see why a contrary analogy might have suggested itself to Dawkins in reply. Furthermore, surely Ruse’s original analogy is hardly less “offensive” than Dawkins’ response?  I presume McGrath will now be penning an angry rebuke to Ruse for his “unwise”, “indefensible”, “distasteful”, “prejudiced” and “poorly informed” analogies (DD, p.24)?  

 

Finally, how are we to interpret Ruse ’s war analogy in the light of his own behaviour in allowing private email correspondence between himself and Daniel Dennett to be made public by anti-evolutionist William Dembski? Who are the Nazis, in that scenario, and who the Stalinists? (See Dembski's weblog).

 


 

I have already criticized the Intelligent Design movement, a conservative Christian anti-evolutionary movement whose ideas are also lambasted in The God Delusion. Yet ironically, this movement now regards Dawkins as one of its greatest assets.

(DD, p.25).

 

McGrath’s discussion of the infamous Ruse-Dennett email case, and Madeleine Bunting’s Guardian article criticizing Dawkins’ approach, omits a rather important point. Which is that Dawkins himself discusses both in GD (p.68-69).  Why doesn’t McGrath deal with Dawkins’ response to Ruse and Bunting, instead of merely repeating the original stories?

 


 

…in the TV series The Root of All Evil?... Dawkins sought out religious extremists who advocated violence in the name of religion, or who were aggressively anti-scientific in their outlook. No representative figures were included or considered.  Dawkins’ conclusion? Religion leads to violence, and is anti-science.

(DD, p.27)

 

It is not true that no moderate religious figures appeared in the documentary.  An uncut version of Dawkins’ interview with the Bishop of Oxford can be viewed here.

 


 

…that’s what Dawkins wants his readers to think – that believing in God is on the same level as cosmic teapots.”

(DD, p.28).

 

This is a singularly careless way of explaining Dawkins’ point.  The parable of the celestial teapot is used to illustrate the mistake of jumping “from the premise that the question of God’s existence is in principle unanswerable to the conclusion that his existence and his non-existence are equiprobable.” (GD, p.51)

 


 

How can Dawkins speak of religion as something ‘accidental’, when his understanding of the evolutionary process precludes any theoretical framework that allows him to suggest that some outcomes are ‘intentional’ and others ‘accidental’?”

(DD, p.30)

 

Dawkins explains what he means in GD, p.172-173. He draws an analogy with the self-immolating behaviour of moths round candle flames. Why would natural selection favour such apparently ‘suicidal’ flights?  The lesson, for Dawkins is that you have to ask the right question:

           

“Instead, we should ask why they have nervous systems that steer by maintaining a fixed angle to light rays, a tactic that we notice only when it goes wrong.” (GD, p.173)

 

By analogy, the suggestion is that supernaturalist propensities arise because of the way our minds have evolved.  Supernaturalism itself may not be a useful adaptation, but useful adaptations may cause supernaturalism in other circumstances.

 


 

Dawkins theories of the biological origins of religion, though interesting, must be considered to be highly speculative.

(DD, p.30)

 

Well, yes. As Dawkins himself says: “I am much more wedded to the general principle that the question should be properly put, and if necessary rewritten, than I am to any particular answer.” (GD, p.174).   Perhaps the important thing is that the theories are interesting, as McGrath says. McGrath complains that Dawkins’ discussion contains lots of “maybes” and “mights”.  But if Dawkins is discussing admittedly speculative material, is such language not entirely appropriate?

 


 

At an early stage in The God Delusion, Dawkins represents atheism as the last outcome of a final process of whittling down irrational beliefs about the supernatural. You begin with polytheism… Then as time progresses, and your thinking becomes more sophisticated, you move on to monotheism… Atheism just takes this one step further… Yet the history of religion obliges us to speak about the ‘diversification’, not the ‘progression’ of religion. The evidence simply isn’t there to allow us to speak about any kind of ‘natural progression’ from polytheism to monotheism – and thence to atheism.

(DD, p.31)

 

McGrath has simply not understood the cited section of GD (p.31-32), and consequently misrepresents a humorous aside as a serious expectation.   Dawkins does say,

 

“Historians of religion recognize a progression from primitive tribal animisms, through polytheisms such as those of the Greeks, Romans, and Norsemen, to monotheisms such as Judaism and its derivatives, Christianity and Islam.” (GD, p.32).

 

But he goes on to observe that,

 

It is not clear why the change from polytheism to monotheism should be assumed to be a self-evidently progressive improvement. But it widely is – an assumption that provoked Ibn Warraq (author of Why I Am Not a Muslim) wittily to conjecture that monotheism is in its turn doomed to subtract one more god and become atheism. (GD, p.32).

 

It’s a joke, you see.  Perhaps someone could explain this to McGrath, slowly, so that he understands.


 

“[Dawkins’] analysis rests on the ‘general principles’ of religion he finds in Sir James Frazer’s Golden Bough – a highly impressionistic early work of anthropology, first published in 1890… Why on earth should Dawkins’ theory of the roots of religion depend so heavily on the core assumptions of a work which is well over a century old, and now largely discredited?

(DD, p.33)

 

We can agree that Frazer’s work has been discredited by subsequent scholarship, but the answer to McGrath’s rhetorical question is that Dawkins’ speculations don’t actually depend heavily on The Golden Bough at all.  GD, p. 188, which McGrath cites at this point, merely mentions the book as a survey which “impresses us with the diversity of irrational human beliefs”. There’s no indication that Dawkins takes more from it than that.

 


 

More seriously, he draws attention to the hypothesis of Michael Persinger that religious experience is associated with pathological brain activity, subtly implying that religion is itself therefore pathological. Readers ought to be aware (for Dawkins does not mention it) that Persinger’s experiments have been severely criticized for their conceptual and design limitations, and that his theory is no longer regarded as plausible.” (DD, p.38).

 

Here is Dawkins, “drawing attention” to Michael Persinger:

 

I shall not pursue the neurological idea of a ‘god centre’ in the brain because I am not concerned here with proximate questions. That is not to belittle them. I recommend Michael Shermer’s How We Believe: The Search for God in an Age of Science for a succinct discussion, which includes the suggestion by Michael Persinger and others that visionary religious experiences are related to temporal lobe epilepsy.” (GD, p.168)

 

As McGrath observes in an endnote, it’s not clear how familiar Dawkins is with Persinger’s work beyond Shermer’s discussion, but notice he doesn’t go further than calling it a “suggestion”.  It’s merely mentioned in passing, which is no great crime.

  


 

During the 1990s, Dawkins introduced the idea of God as some kind of mental virus…”

(DD, p.40)

 

I was severely and quite properly critical of this pseudoscientific idea in Dawkins’ God, noting that it lacked any basis in evidence, and seemed to depend on Dawkins’ highly subjective personal judgement as to what was ‘rational’ or not. This discredited idea now seems to have a purely walk-on part in the narrative of The God Delusion, which alludes to a 1993 article in which Dawkins wrote about God as a ‘virus of the mind’. It’s clearly about to be written out of the plot altogether, and not before time. Its passing will not be mourned.”

(DD, p.41)

 

I’ll leave gently on one side the atrocious mixed metaphor of the last two sentences of the second of those quotes from DD.  

 

One wonders why McGrath makes such heavy weather of what was quite obviously a piece of rhetoric from Dawkins, not a serious scientific proposal. How many words will McGrath waste on disproving the existence of Gerin Oil? (See also this article from The Independent, and this Wikipedia entry).  You can imagine McGrath working himself up into an indignant frenzy: “There is no scientific evidence that the 9/11 hijackers were ‘high’ on any such substance…”

 


 

            But why should biology be able to explain culture?

(DD, p.43)

 

I’m no expert, but the answer ought to be obvious.  If human culture is the product of human brains (and I take it that McGrath agrees that it is), and human brains are the product of the interaction of genes and environment (again, this seems unassailable), then in principle it ought to be possible to investigate the contribution of biology to culture.  So McGrath’s question just looks silly, even given the evident fact that the relationship between biology and culture is not going to be a trivial one to unravel.  I don’t count myself among those who find “memes” a particularly convincing model for cultural evolution, but that’s another issue.

 


 

has anyone actually seen these things, whether leaping from brain to brain, or just hanging out?

(DD, p.43)

 

I am sympathetic towards those who find “memes” an unhelpful model for cultural development.  But McGrath’s objection here is infantile.  A “meme” is merely an idea, a concept, an opinion, a “way things should be done”.  In which case, yes, we see memes all over the place: written down or acted out.

 


 

In The God Delusion, Dawkins sets out the idea of memes as if it were established scientific orthodoxy.

(DD, p.43)

 

Not really.  He takes memes seriously, but observes that “the main purpose of meme theory, at this early stage of its development, is not to supply a comprehensive theory of culture, on a par with Watson-Crick genetics.” (GD, p.196, my emphasis).

 


 

The God that Dawkins does not believe in is ‘a petty, unjust, unforgiving control freak; a vindictive, bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynistic, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniacal, sadomasochistic, capriciously malevolent bully’. Come to think of it, I don’t believe in a God like that either.

(DD, p.46)

 

The quotation McGrath is using here is from p.31 of GD.  And McGrath is completely misrepresenting Dawkins’ intentions.  Here is the context:

 

“The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction: jealous and proud of it; a petty, unjust, unforgiving control freak… It is unfair to attack such an easy target. The God Hypothesis should not stand or fall with its most unlovely instantiation, Yahweh… I am not attacking the particular qualities of Yahweh, or Jesus, or Allah, or any other specific god such as Baal, Zeus or Wotan. Instead I shall define the God Hypothesis more defensibly: there exists a superhuman, supernatural intelligence who deliberately designed and created the universe and everything in it, including us.” (GD, p.31)

 


 

The God whom I know and love is described by Dawkins as ‘insipid’, summed up in the ‘mawkishly nauseating’ idea of ‘Gentle Jesus, meek and mild.’”

(DD, p.46)

 

Once again, McGrath is misrepresenting Dawkins.  Dawkins explicitly contrasts the Old Testament God with “his insipidly opposite Christian face” (GD, p.31). There doesn’t appear to be any implication that this is supposed to be anything more than a polar opposite.  Indeed, Dawkins goes on to observe that, “To be fair, this milksop persona owes more to his Victorian followers than to Jesus himself.” (GD, p.31)

 


 

            “Jesus of Nazareth did no violence to anyone.” (DD, p.47)

 

This is a curious thing to say, since there is no evidence anywhere that could help settle the question. It is merely dogma, therefore. The New Testament, even if taken as an entirely accurate portrait of the historical figure of Jesus, covers only a few years of his life.  

 

Does the story of Jesus and the Gadarene Swine fit into an entirely non-violent model? Jesus’ actions in this case led to the drowning of a herd of pigs (see Mark, 5:1-20; Matthew, 8:28-34; Luke, 8:26-39).

 


 

Dawkins is nauseatingly condescending about the Amish. Yet I cannot help but feel that he misses something rather important in his blanket dismissal of their significance. If the world were more like Jesus of Nazareth, violence might indeed be a thing of the past. But that does not appear to be an answer that Dawkins feels comfortable with.

(DD, p.47)

 

Of course, it’s not an answer that most followers of Jesus have been comfortable with, either, otherwise pacifism would be more popular than it actually is.  The Amish forgave the gunman who killed five schoolgirls (see the Wikipedia entry on the shootings), but actually it is not obvious that such a reaction is more moral than any other human reaction.  One might regret the inability to bring the killer to justice, since he shot himself. Is that a less worthy response than forgiveness?  Dawkins’ discussion of the Amish concentrates, in fact, on a Supreme Court decision supporting the withdrawal of children from High School by Amish parents in Wisconsin (GD, p.329-331).  McGrath doesn’t bother to engage with the real point at all.

 


 

Dawkins insists that there is ‘not the smallest evidence’ that atheism systematically influences people to do bad things. It’s an astonishing, naïve and somewhat sad statement.

(DD, p.48)

 

Dawkins’ discussion of atheism and totalitarianism and violence is in fact quite weak, but McGrath’s attack on it fails miserably.   Atheists have committed atrocities, including atrocities in pursuit of anti-religious policies.  Dawkins must know this, because he devotes some space to a discussion of Stalin (GD, pp.272-273, 278).  McGrath does not engage with what Dawkins has to say about Stalin, conveying the impression that Dawkins doesn’t mention the Soviet Union at all, which is a distortion.  

 

Dawkins accepts that Stalin was an atheist, and that he did bad things. What he says is that, “there is no evidence that his atheism motivated his brutality” (GD, p.273).    Dawkins comments that “individual atheists may do evil things but they don’t do evil things in the name of atheism”. Stalin, says Dawkins, did evil things in the name of “dogmatic and doctrinaire Marxism” (GD, p.278).    

 

McGrath’s strongest point is that the Soviet Union provides an example of violence carried out in the name of atheism, in that anti-religious repression was intended to help spread atheism.  Dawkins denies this explicitly. For him, dogmatic Marxism was the cause in question.   McGrath, by not engaging with Dawkins’ text sufficiently closely, fails to supply any counter-argument to this denial.  

 

Finally, what arguments does McGrath offer against Dawkins’ contention that what matters is “whether atheism systematically influences people to do bad things. There is not the smallest evidence that it does.” (GD, p.273)?   In fact, McGrath doesn’t supply any relevant arguments at all, concentrating as he does on the anti-religious history of the Soviet Union. Even if we agree with McGrath that the anti-religious repressions of Lenin and Stalin were carried out “in the name of atheism”, in some sense (and McGrath doesn’t even begin to justify such a view), there is still work to do to demonstrate that atheism was a systematic cause of that violence.   But McGrath doesn’t do any of that work.

 

Even when faced with some of Dawkins’ weakest writing, McGrath’s failure to address himself to what Dawkins actually says leaves Dawkins unchallenged.

 


 

For Dawkins, it is obvious that it is religious belief that leads to suicide bombings.

(DD, p.50)

 

The motives for and justifications of suicide bombings are many and various.  It is obvious that some of those motives and justifications are religious.  Dawkins recognises that it’s not all down to religion:

 

“It might be said that there is nothing special about religious faith here. Patriotic love of country or ethnic group can also make the world safe for its own version of extremism, can’t it? Yes it can, as with the kamikazes in Japan and the Tamil Tigers in Sri Lanka.” (GD, p.306)

 

So Dawkins is not saying that all suicide bombings are down to religion. What he is saying is that religious faith is a potent element of some such attacks. To that extent, then, religious faith is dangerous.   Again, McGrath fails to address Dawkins’ point.

 


 

Suppose Dawkins’ dream were to come true, and religion were to disappear: would that end the divisions within humanity? Certainly not."

(DD, p.51)

 

Dawkins would agree. Indeed, McGrath quotes Dawkins agreeing with such a point (DD, p.52, quoting GD, p.259).  But McGrath’s reply again fails to address what Dawkins’ point actually is.  I find McGrath’s inability to deal with the real arguments disturbing.  Here is what Dawkins says:

 

“I do not deny that humanity’s powerful tendencies towards in-group loyalties and out-group hostilities would exist even in the absence of religion… But religion amplifies and exacerbates the damage in at least three ways… ” (GD, p.260).

 

Dawkins then lists three things which tend to make religious conflict particularly damaging.  First, children are labelled by religion, before they can make an informed choice of their own. Second, schooling is often segregated on a religious basis. Third, religions often ban intermarriage.  When Dawkins talks about religion’s capacity for creating in-groups and out-groups, what he often has in mind is the perpetuation of sectarianism through segregated schooling. Note that McGrath nowhere deals with these points or their public policy implications (especially point two).

 



FAULTY SCHOLARSHIP

 

In this section, I document what I think are serious scholarly failings.

 


 

Lenin regarded the elimination of religion as central to the socialist revolution, and put in place measures designed to eradicate religious beliefs through the ‘protracted use of violence’.”

(DD, p.48)

 

I hope I will not be misunderstood.  I am an advocate of secularism,  not State Atheism, and I regard as intolerable the religious repression experienced in the Soviet Union. This is not the place for a detailed discussion of the Soviet Union’s shifting policies toward religion, although it is worth noting that some recent research suggests there was rather less official commitment than might be expected in pursuit of anti-religious objectives (see for example, William B. Husband’s Godless Communists: atheism and society in Soviet Russia, 1917-1932).

 

However, in the passage quoted above McGrath is badly wrong, however you look at it.

 

McGrath doesn’t provide any citations to Lenin at this point.  Luckily for us, it’s not the first time he’s made this mistake.  In Twilight of Atheism, McGrath writes:

Lenin, frustrated by the Russian people’s obstinate refusal to espouse atheism voluntarily and naturally after the Russian Revolution, enforced it, arguing – in a letter of March 1922 – that the “protracted use of brutality” was the necessary means of achieving this goal. (Twilight, p.166)

The letter in question does not concern the imposition of atheism (which isn’t even mentioned), as such, and it does not advocate the “protracted use of brutality”, as we shall see.   

 

A translation of Lenin’s “Letter to Molotov for Politburo members”, 19 March 1922, is available in Pipes’ The Unknown Lenin  (1996, p.150-155). Slightly different translations can be found on the Internet, for example at: http://www.lib.byu.edu/~rdh/wwi/1918p/lenimolo.html. The context to Lenin’s letter is a programme of confiscation of valuables and other assets from Orthodox institutions (in order to prop up the economy), which was resisted.  At Shuia, troops fired on protesters and the Politburo ordered a halt to the programme. Lenin’s letter overruled that decision, urging that an attempt to carry out the confiscation of Church property at any later juncture risked failure and loss of peasant sympathy:

 

“I think that here our enemy is committing an enormous strategic mistake in trying to drag us into a decisive battle at a time when it is particularly hopeless and particularly disadvantageous for him… It is precisely now and only now, when in the starving regions people are eating human flesh, and hundreds if not thousands of corpses are littering the roads, that we can (and therefore must) carry out the confiscation of church valuables with the most savage and merciless energy…It is precisely now and only now that the enormous majority of the peasant mass will be for us or at any rate will not be in a condition to support in any decisive way that handful of Black Hundred clergy and reactionary urban petty bourgeoisie who can and want to attempt a policy of violent resistance to the Soviet decree.” (Pipes 1996, pp.152-153).

 

So this is not an explicit policy on the eradication of belief, but about an alleged threat to the Soviet State from defiant clergy.  On the question of violence, Lenin, citing Machiavelli, writes:

 

One wise writer on matters of statecraft rightly said that if it is necessary to resort to certain brutalities for the sake of realizing a certain political goal, they must be carried out in the most energetic fashion and in the briefest possible time because the masses will not tolerate prolonged application of brutality. (Pipes 1996, p.153).

 

Lenin is therefore not advocating the “protracted use of violence” at all, but in fact warning against it!

 

McGrath would be quick to jump on the cavalier use of uncited sources by other writers.  I see no reason to be more indulgent of his scholarly errors, and this is a serious one.

   



OMISSIONS

 

In this section I draw attention to important things that McGrath fails to mention.


A good recent example is provided by Anthony [sic] Flew (born 1923), the noted atheist philosopher who started to believe in God in his eighties.

(DD, p.3.)

 

The God that Flew now believes in is an Aristotelian ‘First Cause’.  This is still some distance from the Christian concept of deity. See this BBC interview, and the original interview with Gary Habermas.   It would have been less misleading had McGrath said, “started to believe in a God.”

 


 

In the God Delusion, Dawkins criticizes ‘the worship of gaps’. This is a reference to an approach to Christian apologetics that came to prominence during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries… In its simplest form, it asserted that there were necessarily ‘gaps’ in a naturalist or scientific understanding of reality… It was argued that God requires to be proposed in order to deal with these gaps in scientific understanding. It was a foolish move, and was increasingly abandoned in the twentieth century. Oxford’s first professor of theoretical chemistry, the noted Methodist lay preacher Charles A. Coulson, damned it with the telling phrase ‘ the God of the gaps.’  (DD, p.10-11)

 

McGrath creates the impression that Coulson invented the phrase “God of the gaps”.  The idea actually goes back to the Scottish theologian Henry Drummond (1851-1897):

 

“There are reverent minds who ceaselessly scan the fields of Nature and the books of Science in search of gaps – gaps which they will fill up with God. As if God lived in gaps?” (from The Ascent of Man, 1894, chapter 10)

 



FACTUAL ERRORS

 

In this section I list minor mistakes.  A “minor” mistake is one that could be corrected without changing the thrust of the book’s argument.


 

“Though an atheist, Gould was absolutely clear…”

(DD, p. ix)

 

In fact, Gould referred to himself as an agnostic (Rocks of Ages, 1999, p.8).  He might qualify as atheist under some definitions of the term, but it is not clear how McGrath defines it.


 

 “I am not alone in feeling disappointed here. The God Delusion trumpets the fact that its author was recently voted one of the world’s three leading intellectuals. This survey took place among the readers of Prospect magazine in November 2005. So what did this same Prospect magazine make of the book? Its reviewer was shocked at this ‘incurious, dogmatic, rambling, and self-contradictory’ book.”

(DD, p. xi)

 

Prospect’s survey cannot have been conducted in November 2005, because the results were published in October (see for example: ‘Chomsky is voted world’s top public intellectual’, Guardian, 18 October 2005). True, the official list did appear in Prospect’s November edition, but that edition actually appeared in late October (not uncommon in publishing). Nor was the survey only among readers of Prospect. It was also promoted jointly with Foreign Policy. According to the shortlist posted on Foreign Policy’s website (registration may be required to view the article) in September 2005, voting closed on 10 October 2005. Furthermore, the opinion of a reviewer can hardly be taken as a sign of “disappointment” on behalf of the entire readership of a magazine. The reviewer, by the way, was Andrew Brown, and Brown had previously reviewed Dawkins unfavourably – also in Prospect, which tells us what? (see ‘Beautiful metaphors, bad science’, Prospect, June 1996).  

 


 

As Dawkins pointed out in his Thought for the Day on BBC Radio in 2003...”

(DD, p.3)

 

Dawkins didn’t take part in Thought for the Day. He participated in a discussion on the Today programme by providing an example of atheist opinion, but it fell outside Thought for the Day itself, because Thought for the Day excludes non-religious views (this was the whole point of the discussion).   And it happened in 2002, not 2003.  

 

See: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/2193321.stm, dated 14 August 2002, where it is explained that,

 

“Prof Dawkins's broadcast did not replace the regular daily slot but ran an hour afterwards as an unofficial "Thought". Christine Morgan, who produces the series, said the official "Thought" would remain closed to non-religious voices.”

 

For Dawkins’ “Alternative Thought for the Day”, see: http://www.bbc.co.uk/radio4/today/reports/archive/features/thought_for_day_dawkins.shtml

 


 

“…Anthony Flew…”

(DD, p.3)

 

Flew’s first name is spelled “Antony”.

 


 

Back in 1916, active scientists were asked whether they believed in God…”

(DD, p.20)

 

Actually, James Leuba’s survey was in 1914, though his book was published in 1916.  See Larson, Edward J. and Witham, Larry. (1998). ‘Leading scientists still reject God.’ Nature, vol. 394 (6691), p.313.   Unmentioned by McGrath, Dawkins also comments on the Larson/Witham research (p. 100-101), as well as on other surveys.  Odd that McGrath ignores this.

 


 

Madame Rolande was brought to the guillotine to face execution on trumped-up charges in 1792.

(DD, p.51)

 

Careless.  Madame Roland was executed on 8 November 1793, not in 1792 (see wikipedia; Encyclopedia Britannica).



 

 

Dan J. Bye has been a member of the committee of Sheffield Humanist Society since its formation in 1993. He is also a member of the Council of Management of the National Secular Society.

 

First written: 7 May 2007

Latest update: 25 June 2007

Swinburne's response to Dawkins added: 16 May 07

Text reorganised: 19 May 07.

Typos corrected. Section on Medawar expanded: 1 June 07

More on Medawar: 2 June 07.

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Contact: delusion @ sheffieldhumanists.org.uk

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