A Manual for Creating Atheists (26 page)

Over time—because of my experience teaching prison inmates, tens of thousands of students at colleges and universities throughout the country, and people on the street—I came to the conclusion that not only was this problem pervasive, but that it also made it
impossible
for me to teach people how to improve their reasoning. In order to reason well, one needs to be able to rule out competing or irrelevant alternatives. But one cannot do this if one believes that there’s no way to make an objective judgment about those alternatives.

For example, if I want to determine if I should visit an N.D. (Doctor of Naturopathic Medicine) to try a type of alternative medicine, or if I should visit a board certified M.D. to receive treatment based upon the paradigm of scientific evidence, I need to be able to develop some mechanism that I can rely upon that will lead me to the best answer to the question: which is better for my health? If I start with the conclusion that these are just different systems of medicine, and cannot be judged by the same metric, then I lose all motivation to formulate the mechanism by which I make a judgment. There’s no point in learning how to make more discerning judgments if what I’m judging cannot be judged, and if the mechanism by which I make these judgments is wholly subjective.

For an educator, combating relativism is priority one. I spend the first thirty to sixty minutes of every class in a broadly Socratic discussion wherein I adhere to the template located in appendix C. I’ve made this process both simple and easy to use in hope educators and Street Epistemologists can readily use this tool in any discussion.

Misconstruing Reality

Pedagogically, it is possible to undo some of the damage students have suffered from contemporary academic leftism in thirty to sixty minutes. Depending on class size—this can be difficult with classes of more than one hundred students because it’s time consuming to field every student’s question—using this template as a model should help students escape relativism within the hour. In the five years I’ve used this template, I’ve yet to have a single student who (as far as I know) has not been disabused of epistemological relativism.

Question 1: Is it possible that some people misconstrue reality?
Most students will say “yes” or nod their heads. For those few who say “no,” or who look unsure, I ask, “If Fred thinks that two plus two is eighteen, and Sue thinks it’s forty-one, and if they both conceive of the operator in the same way, has someone misconstrued reality?” Not a single student will say “no.”

Question 2: Do some people misconstrue reality?
Question two moves from the possibility of misconstruing reality, to the fact that some individuals actually do misconstrue reality.

It’s important at this stage that you do not provide examples—instead let students provide their own. Sadly, I had to figure this out on my own, but students relate more to examples given by other students, and much less to those given by the instructor. Fielding examples is usually the most time consuming of all of the stages; I spend about five to seven minutes eliciting and encouraging as many students as possible to contribute to this stage.

There may be a few students—typically anthropology majors as their field is steeped in relativist dogma—for which this is a problematic concept. In these cases I’ll ask if anything is knowable, and then I’ll ask them to provide examples of things that are knowable and unknowable. Tautologies like those found in math and language (“A bachelor is an unmarried man”) are usually sufficient for students to agree that some things are knowable. If this doesn’t work, then I bring up the fact that we’re having a conversation and even for them to disagree means that on some level they know what I’m talking about, thus meaning some things are knowable. This will usually propel even the most ardent relativist to the next stage and the next set of questions.

Questions 3, 4, and statement 5: If one wants to know reality, is one process just as good as any other? So then are some processes bad? If so, this must mean some processes are good, or better
. Now I provide my own examples.

I avoid discussing faith. If faith does come up, I’ll say, “We’ll talk about that later. For now, let’s just find unreliable processes that we can all agree upon.” I use blatantly unreliable processes like flipping coins and goat sacrifice. It’s very easy to get students to agree that flipping coins is not a reliable basis upon which they should make decisions—heads I’ll be a math major and tails I’ll be a dance major. I also elicit other processes that students think are unreliable.

I segue into the next question by stating, “So if there are some processes that are bad, like flipping coins, that means that you can’t rely upon them. But in order for some processes to be bad, that must mean that other processes are good. By good I mean that one can rely upon them. As ‘bad’ is a relational word, it doesn’t make sense to speak of a process as bad unless there’s a process that’s good, right?”

For those students who don’t think that “bad” is a relational word, I’ll discuss other relational words, like “stupid” or “delicious.” I’ll ask, “For someone to be considered stupid, doesn’t that mean there have to be people who are smart?” This is usually enough to carry the discussion forward. However, on rare occasions someone will get hung up on the word “bad.” I’ll explain that by a “bad process” I mean a process that takes one away from reality. If there’s still confusion, I’ll ask how they use the word “bad.” Their definition will usually comport with how I use the word “bad,” but if it does not, then I’ll borrow a line from Sam Harris and tell them that not only am I not sure how they’re using the word “bad,” but I don’t even think they know how they’re using the word “bad.” After a brief discussion about the word “bad,” I proceed to the next stage, with questions 6 and 7.

Questions 6 and 7: Is there a way we can figure out which processes are good, and which are not?
At this point, the foundation has been laid. Once we’ve discussed what we mean by “reliable,” “good,” and “bad,” very few people maintain a type of relativism in terms of processes that take one toward or away from reality.

I ask students their ideas about how to discern good processes from bad processes. Regardless of their responses, I’ll ask them how they know the selection criteria they invoke will enable them to discern what’s a good process and what’s a bad process. With very little prodding, students will come to the conclusion that processes that rely on reason and evidence are good, while all other processes are bad.

Suggestions

• Avoid leaving a stage until every student is in agreement. If there’s a student who does not understand, spend more time in that stage. Use questions as an opportunity to help students. If the concepts are still unclear,
  ¹⁸
  invite them to office hours to continue the discussion.
  
• During question 1, you may need to discuss objectivity versus subjectivity. As noted in chapter 2, I tell students to think about the distinction in terms of matters of taste—for example, red wine is better than white wine with lamb.
  
• In question 2, be sure to dole out praise when students generate examples of people misconstruing reality. Generally, praise is underused in advancing dialogue.
  
• Question 2 also presents an opportunity to help students understand that the number of people who lend their belief to a claim does not increase the likelihood that the claim is true. You can capture this idea by asking, “Does the number of people who misconstrue reality increase the likelihood that their beliefs are true? For example, if Joe thinks there’s an alien in the courtyard, and he convinces Betty that this is true, does this increase the odds of there being an actual alien in the courtyard?”
  

INTERVENTIONS

Intervention 1

I never answer my office phone. The one time I did, I received a call from an upset parent (UP). His son was enrolled in my class, and he was upset that I questioned students’ faith. I told him to come in during office hours so we could talk about it. (For better or worse, putting the onus of action on someone usually ends the discourse, as most people won’t act beyond the initial contact.)

He was in my office within thirty minutes. UP, who was in his mid-50s and rugged but with soft hands and dyed black hair, looked around suspiciously as he sat down. Frowning, he spoke with a sense of urgency.

UP
: I told you on the phone. You’ve crossed the line by asking questions about my son’s faith—

PB
: Okay, wait, please. First, what class is your son taking?

UP
: Critical Thinking.

PB
: Okay, thanks. And why do you think faith should be off the table?

UP
: Because it’s an abuse of your authority. You have no right to ask students. They’re young and they’ll believe what you tell them. [He went on for a few minutes, basically repeating himself. I listened.]

PB
: Okay, so what should I talk about in a critical thinking class?

UP
: Anything except that.

PB
: Algebra?

UP
: That’s ridiculous. You know yourself you shouldn’t talk about algebra.

PB
: True, but I’m trying to establish a baseline—things I should and shouldn’t talk about. Right? So I shouldn’t talk about algebra. But, what about other faiths? What about Islam? Should I talk about Islam?

UP
: No. There may be Islamics in the class. No. Definitely not.

PB
: Should I talk about how people come to knowledge?

UP
: Yes, yes, as long as you don’t talk about faith.

PB
: So just to be clear, I should talk about how people come to knowledge as long as it doesn’t relate to faith? Is that your view? I don’t want to put words in your mouth.

UP
: Yes. That’s correct.

PB
: And what about Noah’s Ark? Can I talk about that?

UP
: What? What about it?

PB
: Am I allowed to talk about how people know about the big boat and all of the species and such?

UP
: No. No.

PB
: What about the koala bear?

UP
: What about the koala bear?

PB
: Can I talk about how the koala bear went from the Ark to Australia?

UP
: What are you talking about? What koala bear?

PB
: You know those cute little fuzzy bears? They’re called koala bears. They live in Australia. Have you ever been to the zoo?

UP
: I know what I koala bear is, but why are you talking about koala bears?

PB
: Because I want to know how the koala bear got to Australia and I want to know if you think I can talk about this?

UP
: But, what does the koala bear have to do with anything?

PB
: Well, once the koala bear got off of the Ark, how did it get to Australia?

UP
: It migrated. Migrated. You know.

PB
: But it only eats eucalyptus leaves, and there’s no eucalyptus trees where the Ark allegedly landed. So how did the koala bear get to Australia?

UP
: It used to eat other things.

PB
: So it evolved?

(Long pause)

PB
: So should I or shouldn’t I talk about the koala bear?

UP
: You shouldn’t talk about it because you’re really talking about faith and that’s beyond your authority—

PB
: Okay, so I’m just trying to clarify this for myself. I feel like I don’t get it, but I really do want to understand your position. I can—

UP
: The koala bear lives in Australia.

PB
: Is that a question?

UP
: No, I’m saying, the koala bear lives in Australia.

PB
: Okay.

(Long pause)

UP
: So you’re saying that the koala bear couldn’t get to Australia without those leaves?

PB
: No, I’m not saying anything. I’m merely asking. How did the koala bear get to Australia if there’s no eucalyptus where the Ark crashed?

(UP abruptly whips out his phone and makes a call. I sit back patiently. There’s no answer. He leaves a message for his religious leader and repeats the question: how did koala bears get to Australia after Noah’s Ark landed?)

PB
: Okay, so when you don’t know something you called someone to ask them, right?

UP
: Yeah …

(UP then went into an unnecessary but confident explanation about the religious hierarchy in his church. I cut him off after two minutes.)

PB
: So maybe if these issues are raised in class, when your son comes home, or if he doesn’t live at home then when he sees you, maybe you could talk these questions over with him. Do you think that would help?

UP
: No.

PB
: No?

UP
: Well, yes, but he shouldn’t have questions.