I did not intend to imply anything of the sort -
OK, fair enough.
For future reference, phrasings like "should you not, as an X, do Y?" will frequently be interpreted by native English speakers as implying that Xes should do Y. (In this case, that rationalists should accept "God created the universe" as an explanation.)
My point was more about why and how [the Big Bang] happened, not if.
Ah. Thanks for clarifying that.
For my own part, I have no clear idea why or how the Big Bang happened. Neither am I very clear about why and how stars were formed, or why and how the state borders of Louisiana were established, or why and how the Connecticut state constitution was ratified.
So I suppose you could say that I have a "worldview" that has no explanation for these things. It's hard to know for sure, since I'm not quite sure what "my worldview" refers to. I certainly believe that there is an explanation for how and why those things happened (several explanations, actually), if that clarifies anything.
But in none of these cases does my ignorance of why and how that thing happened strike me as particularly compelling evidence for anything particularly significant, and it certainly doesn't seem to be evidence that God created the universe, or the stars, or the state of Louisiana, or the Connecticut state constitution.
I don't mean that performing the tests will not give visible results, I mean that performing the test leaves you with difficulty in reporting your findings.
Now you've just confused me. Can you describe more concretely the test you have in mind, and what I should expect to experience after performing that test if God created the universe, and what I should expect to experience if the universe came into being some other way?
most religions make a pretty big prediction of and event that will definitely happen to all of us.
Again, I'm unsure what you mean. Can you be clearer about what event most religions predict that will definitely happen, and how that prediction serves as evidence about how and why the universe came into being?
Theflyingfrogfish means "everybody's going to die;" and he doesn't view that as the end of each person's ability to sense and evaluate. I would recommend to TFFF, on the subject of what religion claims regarding provability, to read this Yudkowsky post.
And the child asked:
Q: Where did this rock come from?
A: I chipped it off the big boulder, at the center of the village.
Q: Where did the boulder come from?
A: It probably rolled off the huge mountain that towers over our village.
Q: Where did the mountain come from?
A: The same place as all stone: it is the bones of Ymir, the primordial giant.
Q: Where did the primordial giant, Ymir, come from?
A: From the great abyss, Ginnungagap.
Q: Where did the great abyss, Ginnungagap, come from?
A: Never ask that question.
Consider the seeming paradox of the First Cause. Science has traced events back to the Big Bang, but why did the Big Bang happen? It’s all well and good to say that the zero of time begins at the Big Bang—that there is nothing before the Big Bang in the ordinary flow of minutes and hours. But saying this presumes our physical law, which itself appears highly structured; it calls out for explanation. Where did the physical laws come from? You could say that we’re all a computer simulation, but then the computer simulation is running on some other world’s laws of physics—where did those laws of physics come from?
At this point, some people say, “God!”
What could possibly make anyone, even a highly religious person, think this even helped answer the paradox of the First Cause? Why wouldn’t you automatically ask, “Where did God come from?” Saying “God is uncaused” or “God created Himself” leaves us in exactly the same position as “Time began with the Big Bang.” We just ask why the whole metasystem exists in the first place, or why some events but not others are allowed to be uncaused.
My purpose here is not to discuss the seeming paradox of the First Cause, but to ask why anyone would think “God!” could resolve the paradox. Saying “God!” is a way of belonging to a tribe, which gives people a motive to say it as often as possible—some people even say it for questions like “Why did this hurricane strike New Orleans?” Even so, you’d hope people would notice that on the particular puzzle of the First Cause, saying “God!” doesn’t help. It doesn’t make the paradox seem any less paradoxical even if true. How could anyone not notice this?
Jonathan Wallace suggested that “God!” functions as a semantic stopsign—that it isn’t a propositional assertion, so much as a cognitive traffic signal: do not think past this point.1 Saying “God!” doesn’t so much resolve the paradox, as put up a cognitive traffic signal to halt the obvious continuation of the question-and-answer chain.
Of course you’d never do that, being a good and proper atheist, right? But “God!” isn’t the only semantic stopsign, just the obvious first example.
The transhuman technologies—molecular nanotechnology, advanced biotech, genetech, artificial intelligence, et cetera—pose tough policy questions. What kind of role, if any, should a government take in supervising a parent’s choice of genes for their child? Could parents deliberately choose genes for schizophrenia? If enhancing a child’s intelligence is expensive, should governments help ensure access, to prevent the emergence of a cognitive elite? You can propose various institutions to answer these policy questions—for example, that private charities should provide financial aid for intelligence enhancement—but the obvious next question is, “Will this institution be effective?” If we rely on product liability lawsuits to prevent corporations from building harmful nanotech, will that really work?
I know someone whose answer to every one of these questions is “Liberal democracy!” That’s it. That’s his answer. If you ask the obvious question of “How well have liberal democracies performed, historically, on problems this tricky?” or “What if liberal democracy does something stupid?” then you’re an autocrat, or libertopian, or otherwise a very very bad person. No one is allowed to question democracy.
I once called this kind of thinking “the divine right of democracy.” But it is more precise to say that “Democracy!” functioned for him as a semantic stopsign. If anyone had said to him “Turn it over to the Coca-Cola corporation!” he would have asked the obvious next questions: “Why? What will the Coca-Cola corporation do about it? Why should we trust them? Have they done well in the past on equally tricky problems?”
Or suppose that someone says, “Mexican-Americans are plotting to remove all the oxygen in Earth’s atmosphere.” You’d probably ask, “Why would they do that? Don’t Mexican-Americans have to breathe too? Do Mexican-Americans even function as a unified conspiracy?” If you don’t ask these obvious next questions when someone says, “Corporations are plotting to remove Earth’s oxygen,” then “Corporations!” functions for you as a semantic stopsign.
Be careful here not to create a new generic counterargument against things you don’t like—“Oh, it’s just a stopsign!” No word is a stopsign of itself; the question is whether a word has that effect on a particular person. Having strong emotions about something doesn’t qualify it as a stopsign. I’m not exactly fond of terrorists or fearful of private property; that doesn’t mean “Terrorists!” or “Capitalism!” are cognitive traffic signals unto me. (The word “intelligence” did once have that effect on me, though no longer.) What distinguishes a semantic stopsign is failure to consider the obvious next question.
1 See Wallace’s “God vs. God” (http://www.spectacle.org/yearzero/godvgod.html) and “God as a Semantical Signpost” (http://www.spectacle.org/1095/stop1.html).