Variation on a theme of Richard Taylor

Say you are in a train and looking outside the window at one of the stops you see numerous stones scattered about on a small hill near the train in a patter resembling these letters: WELCOME TO WOLLONGONG. Now you could hardly doubt that these stones do not just accidentally happen to exhibit that pattern. You would, in fact, feel quite certain that they were purposefully arranged that way to convey an intelligible message. At the same time, however, you could not prove, just from a consideration of their arrangement alone, that they were arranged by a purposeful being. It is possible – at least logically so – that there was no guiding hand at all in back of this pattern, that it is simply the result of the operations of inanimate nature. It is possible that the stones, one by one, rolled down the hill and, over the course of centuries, finally ended up in that interesting arrangement, or that they came in some other accidental way to be so related to one another.

The important point, though, is that if, upon seeing from the train window a group of stones arranged as described, you were to conclude that you were entering Wollongong, and if your sole reason for thinking this, whether it was in fact good evidence or not, was that the stones were so arranged, then you could not, consistently with that, suppose that the arrangement of the stones was accidental. You would, in fact, be presupposing that they were arranged that way of an intelligent and purposeful being or beings for the purpose of conveying a certain message having nothing to do with the stones themselves. Another way of expressing this is that it would be irrational for you to regard the arrangement of the stones as evidence that you were entering Wollongong , and at the same time to suppose that they might have come to have that arrangement accidentally, that is, as the result of the ordinary interactions of natural or physical forces. If, for instance, they came to be arranged over the course of time simply by their rolling down the hill, one by one, and finally just happened to end up that way, or if they were strewn upon the ground that way by the forces of an earthquake or whatever, then their arrangement would in no sense constitute evidence that you were entering Wollongong, or for anything whatever unconnected with themselves.

Consider another example. Suppose a stone were dug up and found to be covered with interesting marks, all more or less the same size and more or less in rows. Suppose further that the marks on this stone are found to resemble the characters of an ancient alphabet. Now you might consider this stone to be the product of nature geological forces. But now suppose that these marks are recognised by a scholar having a knowledge of that alphabet, and that with considerable uncertainty due to the obscurity of some of the marks and the obliteration of others, he renders a translation of them as follows: HERE AWAKABEL FELL LEADING A BAND OF THE CAMMERAYGAL AGAINST THE EORA TRIBE. Now you might still maintain that the marks are accidental, that they are only scratches left by volcanic activity or whatever, and that it is only a singular coincidence that they resemble, more or less, some intelligible message. If, however, anyone having knowledge of the stones concludes, solely on the basis of it, that there was someone named Awakabel who died in battle near where this stone was found, the he cannot, rationally, suppose that the marks on the stone are the result of chance or purposeless operations of the forces of nature. He must, on the contrary, assume that they were inscribed there by someone whose purpose was to record an historical fact. If the marks had a purposeless origin, then they cannot reveal any fact whatever except perhaps certain facts about themselves or their origin. It would, accordingly, be irrational for anyone to suppose both that what is seemingly expressed by the marks is true, and also that they appeared as the result of nonpurposeful forces, provided the marks are his sole evidence for believing that what they seem to say is true.

Our own organs of sense, to say nothing of our brains and nervous systems, are things of the most amazing and bewildering complexity and delicacy. Some of these organs strikingly resemble things purposefully designed and fabricated by men. It is sometimes almost irresistible, when considering such a thing as the eye, to suppose that, however it may have originated, it is constructed in that manner in order to enable its possessor to see. On the other hand we have people like Dawkins who want to say that our organs are the accidental and unintended results of perfectly impersonal, nonpurposeful forces.

The important point, however, is that we do not simply marvel at these structures, and wonder how they came to be that way. We do not simply view them as amazing and striking things, and speculate upon their origins. We, in fact, rely on them for the discovery of things that we suppose to be true and that we suppose to exist quite independently of those organs themselves. We suppose, without even thinking about it, that they reveal to us thing that have nothing to do with themselves, their structures, or their origins. Just as we supposed that the stones on the hill told us that we were entering Wollongong – a fact having nothing to do with the stones themselves – so also we suppose that our sense in some manner tell us what is true, at least sometimes. The stones on the hill could have been an accident, in which case we cannot suppose that they really tell us anything at all. So also, our senses and all our faculties could be accidental in their origins, and in that case they do not really tell us anything either. But the fact remains that we do trust them, without the slightest reflection on the matter. Our seeing something is often thought to be, quite by itself, a good reason for believing that the thing exists, and it would be absurd to suggest that we infer this from the structure of our eyes as speculations upon their evolutionary origins. And so it is with all our faculties. Our remembering something is often considered to be, quite by itself, a good reason for believing that the thing remembered did happen. Our hearing a sound is often considered, quite by itself, a good reason for believing that a sound exists; and so on. We do not believe merely that our senses are remarkable interesting things. We do not believe merely that they produce interesting effects within us, nor merely that they produce beliefs in us. We assume that they are trustworthy guides with respect to what is true, and what exists, independently of our senses and their origins; and we still assume this, even where they are our only guides.

We saw that it would be irrational for anyone to say both that the marks he found on the stone had a natural, nonpurposeful origin and also that they reveal some truth with respect to something other than themselves, something that is not merely inferred from them. One cannot rationally believe both of these things. So also it would be irrational for one to say both that his sensory and cognitive faculties had a natural, nonpurposeful origin and also that they reveal some truth with respect to something other than themselves, something that is not merely inferred from them. If their origin can be entirely accounted for in terms of chance variations, natural selection, and so on, without supposing that they somehow embody and express the purposes of some creative being, then the most we can say of them is that they exist, that they are complex and wondrous in their construction, and are perhaps in other respects interesting and remarkable. We cannot say that they are, entirely be themselves, reliable guides to any truth whatever, save only what can be inferred from their own structure and arrangement. If, on the other hand, we do say that they are guides to some truths having nothing to do with themselves, the it is difficult to see how we can, consistently with that, believe them to have arisen by accident, or be the ordinary workings of purposeless forces, even over ages of time.