PHILOSOPHY PATHWAYS Issue 144

I. 'On the subjective nature of Reality, and its relationship to the objective
reality of Nature' by James Coffman

II. 'In Praise of Open-Mindedness: A Defence of Agnosticism against Dawkins'
criticisms' by Tim E. Taylor

I was sorry to hear of the death, on 29th May, of Anthony Harrison-Barbet author of Philosophical Connections, the 900 page e-text which I am currently converting into web pages (see Philosophy Pathways Issue number 140, 17th December 2008). Dr Harrison-Barbet's daughter Cliona Dando has written his obituary. A full 25 years before I came up with the idea of a Philosophy correspondence school, Dr Harrison-Barbet was supervising the studies of external students taking the University of London BA in Philosophy through his 'Verulam Institute' which he founded in 1970.

For this issue, Dr James Coffman, a marine biologist, has written a thought-provoking essay challenging the dogmatic view that science defines what is, or is not 'real'. Scientific activity is no less objective for being the product of human subjectivity, which enters at many levels: for example, in the decision over the relative importance of different lines of investigation, or more generally in the complex interdependence between scientific activity and human interests. Coffman's views will be welcomed by ecologists, as well as philosophers of science looking for a model of science which avoids the extremes of narrow scientism and easy-going relativism.

Tim Taylor takes on no less a quarry than Professor Richard Dawkins, arguing for a more moderate view of the God debate. The focus of the current argument is over the relative probability or improbability of a 'multiverse' versus the hypothesis of an intelligent creator. Is it more, or less likely that the universe supports intelligent life because billions of possible universes with different laws of nature exist, one of which (namely ours) was bound to have the required 'fine tuning', or simply because God designed it to be so? This seems to be one of those cases where our grasp on the very concept of 'probability' (or 'simplicity') begins to crumble.

Philosophy Pathways has been migrated to a new 'bells and whistles' list server at Sheffield University. The new list address is:

N.B. For testing purposes this email message is going out to BOTH lists, the old list and the new list, therefore you should receive TWO copies of the email message. If you only receive one copy please let me know.

I. 'ON THE SUBJECTIVE NATURE OF REALITY, AND ITS RELATIONSHIP TO THE OBJECTIVE REALITY OF NATURE' BY JAMES COFFMAN

A fundamental problem for philosophy -- perhaps the fundamental problem -- is the mapping of epistemology (what we know) to ontology (what is real). Although conventional wisdom holds that this problem is solved by the scientific method, I will argue that this position is founded on a questionable assumption. At issue is the fundamental duality between the observer and the observed, which renders uncertain the objectivity of reality. This problem is the crux of the metaphysical dialectic between absolutism and relativism. The latter in turn is the source of incompatibility between science and religion, wherein an absolutist stance of the one requires a relativistic stance of the other. Here I construct a synthesis that resolves the problem by viewing it from a developmental perspective.

The thesis of this essay is that sentient attention engenders intention, which is a final cause of Reality. Antecedents for this perspective are found in the philosophical discourses of Empiricism, Postmodernism, Internalism, and Developmentalism.

My argument is constructed using the specification hierarchy, a formal system of entailment that contextualizes (and thereby conceptualizes) information by way of the set theoretic relationship {Generic{Specific}}, alternatively expressed as {Vague{Definite}} or {Implicit{Explicit}}.

Since conceptual understanding and communication depend on semantics, we begin with definitions. Nature is defined here as the totality of the Universe. Reality is defined as the empirical part of Nature. This gives the specification hierarchy {Nature{Reality}}.

A cause is a condition upon which the entailment of a given phenomenon depends. Such conditions can be parsed into the four Aristotelian causal categories: material, efficient, formal, and final. Material cause is the physical substance of which a phenomenon is composed. Efficient cause is the action that produces the phenomenon. Formal cause is the organizational constraint that affords occurrence of the phenomenon. Final cause is the function that the phenomenon fulfills. Each causal category is a necessary, but alone insufficient, part of the explanation for any given phenomenon; a complete explanation requires all four categories.

Development is defined as any trajectory of change that transforms relatively indeterminate a priori probabilities (or possibilities) into more determinate a posteriori probabilities (or actualities). It is thus formally the same as measurement, the subjective process through which information is obtained. Development is modeled by the specification hierarchy {Implicit{Explicit}}, wherein indeterminate (implicit) lower levels engender higher levels via material and formal causes, and determinate (explicit) higher levels entrain lower levels via formal and final causes (with formal causes mediating between material and final causes). The corresponding specification hierarchy for measurement is {Entropy{Information}}, where entropy is the information theoretic metric for information capacity or uncertainty, and information is the quantitative reduction of that uncertainty provided by measurement. Note that both development and measurement entail selection or choice, defined here as an active agency (efficient cause) that reduces the number of alternative configurations or degrees of freedom.

Attention is the act of selectively focusing on one thing at the expense of others; thus like development and measurement it manifests choice. Intention is purposeful attention, which can be either conscious or unconscious, with consciousness defined as language-dependent sentience.

We can thus restate our thesis as {Attention{Intention}}. From this we see that the scope of intention is limited by that of attention. Note however that the scope of action motivated by intention is not so limited: any given choice has both intended and unintended consequences. We therefore extend our thesis by saying that the latter are indicative of inattention (or ignorance).

We now ask: what is the nature of scientific knowledge, and how does this affect human Reality?

Suppose that the existing cultural/ socio-economic/ political 'powers-that-be' were to dissolve, providing an opportunity for a fresh outlook on the nature of Reality. We might use that opportunity to choose which assumptions we wish to retain going forward. The specification hierarchy {Nature{Reality}} indicates that a fundamental assumption of classical western science -- that Reality is an objective or 'external' representation of Nature unbiased by perception -- rests on the presupposition that all of Nature is empirical. Given that animal evolution involves sensory-dependent semiotic adaptation to specific ecological niches (the 'Umwelt' of Jakob von Uexkuell), this presupposition seems unlikely to be true even with advanced technological augmentation of our nervous systems. Indeed, the formal similarity between {Nature{Reality}} and {Entropy{ Information}} suggests that Reality can be thought of as a specific signal received amidst a wider background of 'noise' in Nature. Since reception of that signal both depends on and varies with individual experience, it might be better (or at least safer) to assume that Reality is a subjective and (to the extent that it is shared) consensual model of Nature constructed developmentally. This subjectivity is implicit in our definition of Reality as that part of Nature that is empirical.

Let us examine the costs and benefits of adopting this alternate worldview, which I will refer to as 'developmental internalism'.

The first thing to note is that we retain Science as a tool for construction, verification and interpretation of Reality-based knowledge. All of our formally self-consistent, empirically verified theories remain valid as working models of Nature. In assuming the subjective nature of Reality we are not denying the objective reality of Nature; we are simply acknowledging that our access thereto is biased and limited; i.e., that many aspects of Nature are, and may always be, empirically unknowable. Thus, the changes wrought by our new premise are actually more subtle than we might initially have feared. The main difference is that from the perspective developmental internalism, we define, through our experience (and hence our activity), that part of Nature which is empirical; therefore the nature of Reality depends on us.

What we do lose is the overconfident sense of certainty regarding the literal truth of our view through Reality's window on Nature. While this may be somewhat unsettling, it should engender humility, an important counterbalance for what we stand to gain:

For acknowledging that Reality depends on us engenders a sense of empowerment. Unlike the externalist view, which fosters a bleak existentialism wherein life is devoid of meaning, the internalist perspective views human intention (purpose) as being a final cause in the ongoing construction of Reality, thus providing a foundation for humanistic ethics that can inform the choices made in that construction. Viewed internally, humanity is not an incidental extra on the stage of the Universe; we are front and center, the star of our own show.

Furthermore, by acknowledging the fact that Reality is subjective, developmental internalism engenders empathetic understanding, the basis for Christian forgiveness and the humanistic goodness epitomized by Atticus Finch, who said: 'You never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view... until you climb into his skin and walk around in it' (from Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird).

Developmental internalism also engenders a closer sense of connection with and responsibility for our ecological environment, which is as dependent on us as we on it (the basis of agriculture). This mutual dependency stems from the fact that development of our environment is entrained by Reality, which establishes final cause via the agency of human Intention. Recall however that this agency also produces unintended consequences extending from ignorance or inattention; for good or ill, we reap what we sow. The relationship {Attention{Intention}} therefore behooves us to limit our actions to local scales commensurate with our limited attention span, and to refrain from overextending ourselves economically in time and space (as occurs in a global economy). From the internalist perspective there are no economic 'externalities' that can be ignored, and we are more likely to attend to the ecological impact of the choices we make in developing our environment, thereby reducing the margin for unintended consequences.

Finally, developmental internalism encourages us to consider the possibility that vague, intangible and irrational aspects of Nature -- those aspects that are generally eschewed by science but approached by art and mysticism -- are just as 'real' as the tangible and rational aspects. Given the subjectivity of Reality, we can no longer justify ignoring or downplaying these aspects simply because they are resistant to objectification within the framework of our current scientific models. Healthy skepticism approaches such matters with agnosticism, not outright dismissiveness; commitment to the latter requires an overconfident level of certainty (such as is engendered by externalism). So, with developmental internalism we are more apt to pay closer attention to experiences that we don't understand, or can't describe, much less control (e.g., emotions and anomalous empirical events or phenomena).

This lack of control does appear to present a conundrum for our thesis: what do we make of those aspects of Reality that, like gravity, appear to be beyond our control? Unlike in lucid dreaming, we cannot fly simply by intending it. Moreover, we have to eat and drink, and since we are animals this requires that we use our nervous systems to search out and procure food and water; and meanwhile, if we don't pay attention to what is out there, it might eat us. These empirical facts meet our definition of Reality; and do they not also indicate that Reality is objective and external to us?

The answer is no -- they simply indicate that Reality is a reliable representation of some aspects of Nature. This doesn't make Reality any less subjective, nor does it require that it be external to us: there are many parts of my body that I am not aware of and can't control; and some of these parts might even become cancerous and eat me. Yet there was never any question that these are internal to 'me'. Thus, the internality of Reality is not contradicted simply by lack of awareness or control. This becomes even more apparent when we realize that our bodies are not static objects, but rather dynamic systems (dissipative structures whose material components are continually turning over) maintained only by a continuous flow of matter and energy from our environment, and hence not in any way disconnected there from.

So the question is: where (or why) do we (choose to) draw the line between 'internal' and 'external'?

One obvious choice would be to draw the line at the limits of our individual 'self', which we might define as our body, mind, or ego. But on close examination this line appears to be subjectively fuzzy, given that it is entirely dependent on development. For, where would 'I' draw the line as a zygote? Would 'I' draw it at the boundary of the inner cell mass that will eventually become me (or me and my identical twin if that mass of cells happens to split in two), or at the expanding edge of the zygotic trophectoderm that interpenetrates with the lining of my mother's womb to form my/ her placenta? And even after I am born and the cord is cut, where would I draw the line as an infant? Clearly the ability, motivation, and choice of where to draw the line are developed, and this is undoubtedly dependent upon development of individual ego. But the latter is a psychological phenomenon, not a strictly material one: it is possible to have a fully developed body and an undeveloped ego (or even multiple egos at different stages of development, as in 'dissociative identity disorder'!). The perception of the line between self and non-self is thus subjective and entirely dependent on psychological development.

Of course, some continue to argue that objective individuality originates at conception with the unique combination of genes created by union of sperm and egg. But here we have to note that the genetic 'individual' does not arise de novo, but rather is assembled through the recombination of assorted bits of information, DNA sequences that have been passed to us, in many ways unchanged, from distant ancestors that were very different from you and me. Moreover, the individuality of an organism doesn't strictly correlate with genetic identity, as shown by the empirical facts of genetically identical twins on the one hand and genetic mosaics (single individuals developed from the fusion of two or more genetically distinct zygotes) on the other. So why choose to draw the line at conception? We are all related and part of a continuous living lineage; life on earth is in fact a single biological being, each creature a branch of the genetic tree (or more accurately, intertwining bush) whose roots extend into the primordial soup. Genomes are nothing more than records of biological information, and since information requires development of an interpretive frame of reference to convey meaning, I would argue that drawing the line at individual genetic identity is subjectively dependent on a psychological frame of reference, which continues developing throughout the course of one's lifetime.

But what about our experience of spatiotemporal separation? What is this space between you and me? The span of time between me and my ancestors? The gulf of light years between our world and the next galaxy? What do these empirical facts signify if not an external reality?

These questions are answered in part by Einstein's General Theory of Relativity, which shows that space and time, so clearly differentiated in subjective experience, are really just different manifestations of the same thing. Their differentiation depends on a subjective frame of reference and is scaled to the speed of light, upon which human perception largely depends.

Quantum entanglement provides additional evidence that 'objective Reality' cannot be dissociated from subjective experience. In this, Schroedinger's Cat recalls Berkeley's Tree. Even if we do not accept the Copenhagen Interpretation, Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle and Bell's theorem establish that Nature is quite unlike the objective Reality of classical science: either it is fundamentally non-local, or objective reality doesn't truly exist (or at least, is empirically inaccessible, which for intents and purposes, is the same thing).

Every empirical phenomenon that can be modeled manifests information, upon which construction of the model depends. The information used to construct the model is obtained by measurement, which involves choices that generally (and perhaps necessarily) disturb the phenomenon being measured. In science, measurement of some aspect of a phenomenon typically requires that it be isolated by artificially controlling other aspects (for example as is done in genetics by inbreeding), usually within the confines of a laboratory. The information manifested by the phenomenon itself is obtained by development. In light of this, the fact that quantum phenomena (at least appear to) obtain information through the act of measurement suggests that in quantum mechanics at least, measurement and development are not only formally the same, but are actually the same thing.

It appears to me that the connection exists within the vague universe of possibilities (potentiality) that gave/ gives rise to everything (note that modern cosmology holds that even the 'vacuum' is not truly empty). Spatiotemporal separation and differentiation manifest development, which occurs whenever formally possible via growth and evolution of thermodynamic (flow-driven) processes. Growth is engendered by circuitous mutuality (positive feedback) between processes, whereas evolution is entrained by {{intentional}} interference (negative feedback) between processes. The latter occurs as functional redundancy leads to competition for limited resources, a selective agency that increases determinacy. Development produces the empirical complexity of Nature, transforming generic potentiality into specific actualities (e.g. as in {organic chemistry{biology}}). For any given spatiotemporally differentiated (i.e. developed) frame of reference, a subset of Nature's possibilities is closed out, providing limitations, while another subset is made accessible, providing opportunities. For sentient frames of reference, the existence of such limitations and opportunities is implied by the specification hierarchy {Attention{Intention}}.

From this we can conclude that Nature creates a multitude of interdependent yet interfering Realities. Indeed, it doesn't even make sense to talk about a single human Reality, given the deep socio-economic, cultural, and psychological differences that divide the many factions and individuals of our species. Nevertheless, all of these variant human Realities are founded on a common set of well-developed empirical facts (e.g., the facts of death, gravity, combustion, electromagnetism, nuclear fission and fusion, and the Second Law of Thermodynamics), and development wrought by scientific elucidation and technological use of some of these facts has (for good or ill) negotiated an even broader consensus.

We can now extend the specification hierarchy with which we began, as follows: {Nature{Reality{Scientific Knowledge}}. Scientific knowledge (and its contemporary alter-ego, technology), being a specified sub-domain of Reality -- viz., that which can be modeled using empirical facts and formal systems of entailment -- is limited not only by the subjective nature of Reality, but also by the fact that it deals only with those aspects of Reality that are logically constructed. The only way around this is to assume that all of Nature is empirical, which is unlikely on the grounds given above, and that science is capable of modeling all empirical phenomena, which is even more unlikely given the probable ubiquity of singular irreproducible events in Nature. Unless we go out on a limb to make these additional assumptions we can only surmise that science constructs from Reality an explicit idealization of Nature that sacrifices both its implicit vagueness and many of its explicit particulars.

I conclude that any scientific model developed from the classical assumption of objective Reality is at best an oversimplified caricature of Nature, and that unregulated development of technological applications based on literal (externalist) interpretations of such a model will invariably have unintended consequences that are both ecologically deleterious and dehumanizing. The modern world provides abundant empirical evidence supporting the veracity of this conclusion. The internalist perspective advocated here offers a departure from further unrestrained development in that direction.

I thank Stan Salthe and Ron Coffman for providing helpful comments on early drafts of this manuscript.

Berry, W. Life is a Miracle: an Essay against Modern Superstition. 2000, Counterpoint.

Jaynes, J. The Origin of Consciousness in the Breakdown of the Bicameral Mind. 1976, Houghton-Mifflin.

Rosen, R. Life Itself: A Comprehensive Inquiry into the Nature, Origin, and Fabrication of Life. 1991, Columbia University Press.

Salthe, S.N. Development and Evolution: Complexity and Change in Biology. 1993, MIT Press.

Ulanowicz, R.E. A Third Window: Natural Life beyond Newton and Darwin. 2009, Templeton Foundation Press.

II. 'IN PRAISE OF OPEN-MINDEDNESS: A DEFENCE OF AGNOSTICISM AGAINST DAWKINS' CRITICISMS' BY TIM E. TAYLOR

In The God Delusion[1] Richard Dawkins sets out to refute arguments for the existence of God and to present a comprehensive case for atheism, rejecting not only theism but also agnosticism. This article seeks to defend agnosticism against Dawkins' arguments.

Dawkins begins by discussing the potential spectrum of belief between theism and atheism. He describes a seven point scale, reflecting the probability which subjects attribute to the existence of God[2]. Point 1 reflects strong theism: being 100% certain that there is a God; and 7 represents strong atheism: 100% confidence that there is no God. Point 4 is completely impartial agnosticism, 5 is 'technically agnostic but leaning towards atheism', and 6 is 'de facto atheism' -- attributing to the existence of God a very low probability, but short of zero (2 and 3 are mirror images of 5 and 6). Dawkins scores himself as a 6, but leaning towards 7: 'I am agnostic only to the extent that I am agnostic about fairies at the bottom of the garden.' Dawkins' scale is helpful in showing that belief in God, and thus agnosticism and atheism also, can be a matter of degree. It also supports his main argument against agnosticism.

Dawkins rejects the views of Steven Jay Gould[3] and others that science cannot comment on the existence of God. He argues that a universe with a creative superintendent would be very different from one without, and therefore sees no reason why the existence of God should not be treated as a scientific hypothesis. Dawkins' case for rejecting that hypothesis and embracing atheism breaks down into four main steps, which can be summarised as follows:

S1. The fact that we can neither prove nor disprove the existence of God does not imply that the existence and non-existence of God are equally probable: some non-disprovable things are sensibly judged far less probable than others. For example, Bertrand Russell[4] has pointed out that we could never disprove the proposition that there is a teapot in an elliptical orbit around the sun (too small to be seen by any telescope), but we would not be agnostic about such a proposition[5].

The remaining steps form part of a later chapter which argues against theism and creationism[6], but in combination with S1 comprise an argument against agnosticism also.

S2: 'The Argument from Improbability'. However improbable the entity one seeks to explain by invoking a designer, the designer himself has got to be at least as improbable. On the other hand, natural selection provides a model for how organised complexity can emerge from simple beginnings without any deliberate guidance.

S3: 'The Anthropic Principle: Planetary Version'. Since we exist on Earth, it must be the kind of planet capable of generating and supporting us, however unusual that might be. The combination of conditions which allow Earth to support life, and the chemical events which led to the origin of life, may collectively be very improbable. But there are estimated to be at least a billion billion planets in the universe. So even if the conditions and events which led to the origin of life on earth are so improbable as to occur on only one in a billion planets, life will still have arisen on a billion planets in the universe. Thus there is no need to postulate a God to explain how this highly improbable event might have occurred.

S4: 'The Anthropic Principle: Cosmological Version'. Several fundamental constants of physics, such as the magnitude of the strong nuclear force, appear to be finely-tuned, in that if they were slightly different the universe would be comprehensively different and presumably unfriendly to life[7]. A universe in which those constants are all favourable to the origin of life thus appears highly improbable. However, any God capable of fixing the constants to make them favourable for life would himself be highly improbable. A simpler, and thus less improbable, solution is the hypothesis that there are many universes, ('the multiverse'), in which the values of the fundamental constants are different. Just as we could only be discussing the problem on a planet capable of generating and supporting us, we could only do so in a universe where the constants were favourable to the emergence of life.

How far do these arguments go towards establishing Dawkins' position? Looking first at S1, in conjunction with Dawkins' seven point scale of belief in God, this makes the valid point that one does not have to be at the very end of the scale, to be absolutely certain that there is no God, to be an atheist. It is sufficient that one be satisfied that the existence of God is highly improbable. But how improbable? As a scientist, Dawkins would presumably agree that, in the pursuit of truth, it is important to maintain an open mind between competing hypotheses until one has good reason to commit oneself to one of them. There comes a point when one has to make that commitment, and Dawkins is right that this point comes some way before the achievement of certainty, which is rarely, if ever, possible. The commitment is something more than merely considering one hypothesis more likely than the other(s). It is a matter of regarding the question as settled, of no longer entertaining rival hypotheses at all. One might keep at the back of one's mind the thought that, short of achieving absolute certainty, no question is ever irrevocably settled. Nevertheless there is an important difference between recognising that a belief one has committed oneself to could conceivably be overturned, and not making that commitment at all. The key issue, then, is at what point it is reasonable to relinquish open mindedness between different possibilities and commit oneself to one particular view.

The answer may perhaps vary according to circumstances. But it seems to me that in any scenario the point should fall some way beyond that at which one merely favours one hypothesis over another. A good rule of thumb might be, borrowing a famous legal phrase, to make one's commitment when the matter is settled beyond reasonable doubt. Returning to Dawkins' preferred language of probability, this would imply that one should not reject alternative hypotheses until one regards them as having a very low probability. Not zero, and perhaps not quite as low as Russell's teapot. But very low, none the less. So the bar is set quite high for S2-S4. They must give us reason to believe that the existence of God is very improbable indeed, and this is what Dawkins aims to do.

S2 can be taken on more than one level. At the most basic level is the point that positing God as an explanation of some observed phenomenon immediately raises another question: how did God himself come to exist? Here I take Dawkins' side against the views of some theists that we can simply avoid the question by supposing that God has always existed: a God who has always existed calls for explanation no less than a God who has come into existence. Thus hypothesizing the intervention of God can never, on its own, be a complete explanation of observed phenomena. In considering divine intervention against other candidate explanations of observed reality, we need to consider not only how well the hypothesis of divine intervention fits the case, but also the plausibility of the hypothesised deity itself.

So far, so good. However, Dawkins claims, and his argument requires, rather more than this. He regards S2 as a trump card: however improbable the observed complex phenomenon, a being capable of having designed it must be even more complex and more improbable. This is a very strong and contentious claim. Dawkins himself points out that in nature complexity can be generated from simple beginnings. This supports his position insofar as it shows that we do not need to invoke divine intervention to explain the complexity we see in the world. But it seems to tell against S2's claim that a being capable of designing a complex system must be even more complex. If complexity can emerge from simpler origins in one context, what basis do we have to assume that it cannot do so in another?

Before looking at S3 and S4 individually, it may be helpful to consider the force of the anthropic principle invoked by both arguments. This principle deals with the apparent improbability that conditions favourable to life occurred in the particular circumstances in which we find ourselves. Any beings in a position to consider the problem, it says, must necessarily have emerged in circumstances conducive to that emergence. If it was not improbable that life should have emerged at all, the anthropic principle offers an explanation of why it occurred here. However, if it was improbable that life should have emerged at all, it is important to note that the anthropic principle does not deal with that improbability.

Seen against that background, S3 is a powerful application of the anthropic principle. Dawkins is conservative in his estimate of the number of planets in the universe and generous in his assessment of the improbability of life occurring on any particular planet. Nevertheless, the universe is so vast that the odds of life occurring somewhere seem very high. Since the emergence of life on at least some planets in the universe does not appear improbable, the anthropic principle kicks in to show why we should not be surprised that we live on one of them, and need not invoke divine intervention to explain why Earth is so well-suited to the emergence of life.

As Dawkins recognises, we live not only on a planet, but in a universe that seems tailor-made for the emergence of life, and he needs a further argument, S4, to deal with this. But where S3 is strong S4 is much weaker. There is ample evidence on which to base an estimate of the total number of planets in the universe, and we know enough about biochemistry to make informed judgements about how difficult it was for life to get started. So S3's claim that it was highly probable that life would emerge somewhere is based on firm foundations. There are no comparable foundations for the analogous claim in S4. It has been argued that there is evidence for the existence of other universes in, for example, work on quantum computing[8], but as yet there is nothing on a par with the uncontroversial evidence that supports S3. Moreover, if there are other universes, there is no evidence that any of these have different fundamental constants from our own, as S4 requires: indeed, it appears that the main reason for positing other universes with different fundamental constants is precisely the existence of the 'fine tuning' problem itself. Such reasoning can hardly carry much weight in a debate between competing solutions to that same problem!

So in considering the fine-tuning of our universe for the emergence of life, we cannot have the same level of confidence that we did regarding the fine-tuning of our planet that it was highly probable that somewhere or other conditions would turn out to be favourable, thus allowing the anthropic principle to come into play. The existence of other universes with different fundamental constants is conceivable, and in conjunction with the anthropic principle would solve the fine-tuning problem. But that is not, I submit, enough to settle the question.

Dawkins would reply: 'Yes, but compare it to the alternative. Whatever you say about the multiverse, it is less improbable than the God hypothesis as an answer to the fine tuning problem.' Which brings us back to S2. As was discussed above, S2 is reasonable up to a point: invoking divine intervention as a solution to a problem requires us to consider how the deity might have come to be there in the first place. However, I do not believe that Dawkins has a sound basis for his 'trump card' claim: that however improbable the phenomenon requiring explanation, divine intervention must be more improbable. Agnostics do not have to accept the baggage associated with any particular version of the God hypothesis. Perhaps an omniscient, omnipotent personal God who designs every detail of the observed world would indeed be more improbable than any phenomenon he might be invoked to explain, but we do not have to be agnostic about that, or about natural selection versus creationism (a question which I regard as settled beyond reasonable doubt in favour of the former).
An argument analogous to S2 applies to any hypothesis invoked in explanation, including the multiverse. If we wish to posit the multiverse as a solution to the fine tuning problem, then we are also obliged to consider the issues associated with the putative existence of the multiverse itself: not merely the idea of multiple universes simpliciter, but more specifically (for the purposes of S4), a multiplicity of universes in which:

-- there are a sufficient number of different universes, each with different fundamental constants, to make it probable that there is at least one in which the constants are favourable for the emergence of life.

This raises a number of questions. Where do the other universes exist[9]? By what mechanism are their fundamental constants set, and what is the reason why they differ from one universe to another?

So are these more or less difficult questions than those which face the God hypothesis? Which is more probable? Personally, I tend towards the view that the hypothesis of divine intervention as a solution to the fine tuning problem is more unlikely than the alternatives. On Dawkins' seven point scale, I place myself at 5: 'agnostic but leaning towards atheism.' I suspect that the apparent fine-tuning of our universe for the emergence of life has an explanation (whether the multiverse or something else) which does not involve divine intervention, and that if we ever arrive at a complete picture of the universe(s), it will turn out not to have God in it.

Why, then, do I 'sit on the fence', as critics of agnosticism like to sneer, rather than embracing atheism? The important point is that I do not regard the question as settled. I do not believe there is sufficient basis to turn my suspicion that there is no God into a firm conviction. Dawkins' argument rests upon probabilities. But since I reject his claim that a God must be more improbable than anything one might invoke it to explain, it is not clear to me that we have any basis on which to make firm attributions of probabilities to either the God hypothesis or its alternatives.

Just as one does not require absolute certainty to be an atheist, one need not be completely ambivalent to be an agnostic: one can favour theism or atheism without regarding the issue as settled. Important things flow from committing oneself to a particular hypothesis: one ceases to take the alternatives seriously; and, whether consciously or not, one ceases to be impartial in interpreting evidence. There is always a point at which one has to make such commitments, but it is important to remember that there is also a cost. Open-mindedness is a great virtue in pursuing truth, and is not to be abandoned lightly.

The debate about the existence or non-existence of God is fought out largely between protagonists in entrenched positions on both sides. Dawkins is right to criticise those agnostics who stand on the sidelines and say that the question can never be answered. It may be that it will never be settled, but it is not immune to evidence and logical argument. Perhaps as our understanding of the universe grows it will give us better reasons to embrace theism or atheism. In the meantime, this is a debate that desperately cries out for open-mindedness, for a willingness to suspend final judgement and assess the implications of each piece of emerging evidence in a neutral way. It is, in other words, a debate that needs agnosticism.

3. See for example Gould, S.J. (1999), Rocks of Ages: Science and Religion in the fullness of life, Ballantine.

4. Russell, B., (1997). "Is There a God?". in Slater, J. & Kollner, P., The collected papers of Bertrand Russell. Routledge. pp542-548.

8. See, for example, Deutsch, D (1997), The Fabric of Reality, Viking, Chapter 2.

9. There are various possibilities: for example that they exist contemporaneously in space, but each universe moving away from the others at more than the speed of light, so none is observable from any other (see Tegmark,
M, "Parallel Universes", in Barrow, J.D., Davies, P.C.W., and Harper, C.W. (eds) (2003) Science and Ultimate Reality: From Quantum to Cosmos, Cambridge University Press.

Dr. Anthony Walton (Tony) Harrison-Barbet M.A., D.Phil.; philosopher, writer, teacher, lecturer; died peacefully on Friday, 29th May 2009, in the Bon Secours Hospital, Cork, Republic of Ireland, aged 70, having lived with prostate cancer for eleven and a half years.

Tony was born on 12th March 1939 in the Royal Northern Hospital, Holloway, North London, elder son of Rupert Harrison and Doris (nee Barbet), and brother to Richard. His childhood was notable for the large number of schools he attended -- eight in all. The frequent house moves of his parents necessitated these changes, and he found this all to be disruptive and unsettling. Of all the schools he attended (including The Collegiate School; Keble House; Montpelier College; and Reigate Grammar School) it was at St Alban's School, Hertfordshire that he was most happy and successful, and this school remained important to him throughout his life.

After his A-levels in 1957, and a short time working for ICI paints division, Slough, in his own words 'by one of those life-changing moments of serendipity' he found himself applying to, and accepted at, Trinity College Dublin to study Natural Sciences. However, in 1959, in under a year of studying, he had come to a major decision -- he would become a philosopher instead, and it was a philosopher he remained thereafter.

He switched courses at TCD, and to raise funds to support himself he worked for five months in the packing department at Harrods, and then taught English at the Berlitz School, Krefeld, West Germany. During his vacations he also worked at the Berlitz School in Dublin, and at the Amusements on Brighton Pier as 'Dr Love'! It was while in Brighton that he met the writer and mystic E.H. Visiak, who proved to be hugely influential in the shaping of Tony's career.

During the summer holiday of 1964, just before his degree finals, he hitch-hiked to the West of Ireland and on Achill Island he met Maeve Duggan. They were engaged six weeks later, and married in Cork in August 1965.

He obtained his M.A. from TCD, gaining a 2:1, and now he needed to accrue some funds to allow him to become a research student, and ultimately, his lifetime aim, a university philosophy lecturer. Initially they moved to Essex, where Tony taught at a small private school in Woodham Mortimer. In 1966, on gaining a D.A.A.D. scholarship, they were able to move to Gottingen in West Germany, where Tony embarked upon studying the works and notebooks of Georg Christoph Lichtenberg (1742-99) a German scientist, satirist and aphorist, who in Tony's words 'linked the mystical Neo-Platonism of the Renaissance to emergent Romanticism' and who 'anticipated with striking originality ideas characteristic of much 20th century philosophy.'

In 1967, with more funding established, and sufficient notes made at Gottingen University, Tony continued his studies by moving to Magdalen College, Oxford, under the excellent supervision of Isaiah Berlin.

With two small children now (Cliona, born in Gottingen, and Morwenna, born in Headington) finances were tight, and Tony did a fair amount of private tuition to make ends meet. He also worked for Wolsey hall, Oxford, teaching A-level logic, and philosophy for external students studying the London University B.A.

By 1969, however, it was obvious that a full-time job was needed to support his family, and his Lichtenberg research had to be shelved for a few years. Tony accepted a post at Westbourne House School for boys, a preparatory school near Chichester, West Sussex, and remained here until 1988, teaching physics, chemistry and biology, as well as athletics, directing/ producing plays, being a house-master, and becoming Director of Studies. In 1970 his son, Tristan, was born.

In addition to his full-time teaching post, in 1970/ 1971 Tony set up three establishments: 'Verulam Tutorials', a board of tutors, including himself, providing private tuition for Common Entrance, O- and A-level students; 'The Verulam Institute', providing summer schools for Wolsey Hall philosophy students; 'The Verulam Society', an informal philosophy discussion group.

The name 'Verulam' came from the Latin name for St Alban's, 'Verulamium', and Tony chose for his establishments the motto 'Multi Pertransibunt et Augebiter Scientia' -- 'many will pass through and knowledge will be increased' -- from the title page of Novum Organum by Francis Bacon, Viscount of St Albans. And many did pass through, and knowledge was increased!

The first president of the Institute was Christopher Chataway, and over the years there were some very eminent visiting speakers:

1971 E.R. Emmet, author of 'Learning to Philosophise' 1972 Colin Wilson, who gave the 'E.H. Visiak Lecture' 1973 Michael Moran, Lecturer in Philosophy at Sussex University 1974 Dr Lubor Velecky, Senior Lecturer in Philosophy at Southampton University 1975 Alexander Thynne, Lord Weymouth of Longlete (later becoming the Marquess of Bath); he superseded C. Chataway as the president of the Institute.

Some of these acquaintances proved to be very useful. It was Michael Moran who encouraged Tony to return in 1974 to studying part-time for his D.Phil. at Sussex University. Dr. Lubor Valecky was also the Chief examiner in Philosophy for the International Baccalaureate. He invited Tony to become an examiner for the IB, and this he became, marking exams and extended essays for many years, and after a short while being promoted to Senior Examiner.

In 1972 an American liberal arts college, New England College, was set up, near Arundel, West Sussex, and Tony became a part-time Lecturer in Philosophy there until 1975, when philosophy was removed form the syllabus. In 1973 he became a Tutor in Humanities for the Open University, teaching for the 'Age of Revolutions' course, running regular seminars in Worthing. And in 1976 he was appointed a part-time Tutor in Philosophy at Sussex University. So while studying for his D.Phil. he was also at last realising his ambition of teaching at a university.

In 1981, with Ronald Taylor (Professor of German at Sussex University) having been his tutor, he was finally awarded his doctorate for his thesis Conflict and Integration: a Study in the Philosophy of GC Lichtenberg, 1742-1799. He proudly carried the title of Dr. for the rest of his life.

In the late seventies or early eighties Wolsey Hall B.A. programmes ceased, and all their philosophy course materials were handed gratis to Tony and he continued to provide distance learning tuition for London University B.A. through The Verulam Institute. He also took on work for the National Extension College, Cambridge. A further opportunity arose in 1985 when he noticed, probably in the Times Educational Supplement, that an A-level philosophy course was to be introduced. Following an enquiry by himself, he became an Assistant Examiner.

As well as aspiring to become a university lecturer, it had long been an ambition of Tony to become a writer. Having always held a strong interest in family history, his first book was based on his great, great, great uncle, a patent medicine manufacturer and founder of Royal Holloway College: Thomas Holloway Victorian Philanthropist was completed in 86/87, and printed in 1990.

While researching for this book in 1985, a letter of his in the TES was noticed by Macmillan Publishers, and they approached him regarding the possibility of his writing an Introduction to Philosophy for their 'Mastering' series. This Tony duly accepted, and it too was published in 1990.

In 1988 Tony terminated his employment at Westbourne House, and he and Maeve moved to Ireland, to allow Tony more time to do his own research and writing. He had for many years been making notes for his magnum opus Culture and the Human Condition, but unfortunately for financial reasons, he had to continue to take on further commitments.

He continued teaching for London external B.A., and working as an examiner for IB and A-level. He set up his own private tutorial business, and became a teacher at Bandon Grammar School, initially to set up their computer studies, and then in 1989 as a Transition Year Teacher, covering a wide range of subjects. Also in 1989 he was made Honorary Visiting Fellow in the Philosophy Department at University College Cork, and he regularly attended (and occasionally presented) graduate seminars.

In 1994 Tony left Bandon Grammar School for a new appointment at The National Distance Education Centre ('Oscail') of Dublin City University, which proved to be extremely rewarding, both intellectually and financially. He was based at UCC, and held seminars, tutorials and lectures on the history of philosophy, on Plato, Aquinas and Kant, on the philosophy of religion and also ran the 'Introduction to Humanities' program. He continued to work for DCU for ten years.

In 1998, Tony was diagnosed with prostate cancer, his son Tristan died in tragic circumstances, and then Tony had a radical prostatectomy. Thankfully he received some relief from these three horrors: he was contacted by Professor David Berman of TCD, and was offered, and accepted, a part-time lectureship in continental philosophy. This entailed, as always, a huge amount of work, but Tony thoroughly enjoyed the experience -- to be back at his alma mater Trinity again, and as a Philosophy Lecturer, was great.

Shortly after joining the 'Oscail' of DCU, he was approached by a Michael Mooney of TCD. Having read Mastering Philosophy, he thought Tony might be able to write a series of profiles of Western Philosophers, and trace connections between their ideas -- a kind of intellectual history, to be entitled Philosophical Connections. Michael Mooney and a group of TCD graduates had plans to market and publish the work. After some thought Tony agreed. As the work progressed, however, there were times when he wondered whether he had made the right decision. It took an enormous amount of work over about seven or eight years, compiling profiles of 126 philosophers, with colour coded connections. This colour-coding system was constructively criticised by Trinity Philosophy Department, and Tony came up with the idea of a CD format, with hyperlinks.

Unfortunately the marketing/ publishing plans came to nought, and in 2006 it was all handed over to Tony. After several unsuccessful attempts at marketing it himself, in 2008 Geoffrey Klempner took over the project. He was the Founder and Director of 'Pathways School of Philosophy' and not only would he provide all of his new students with a copy of the CD-ROM, but he also embarked on converting the entire text of 900 pages into HTML format, so as to put the entire work on the world wide web. For Tony this was fantastic -- at last all his hard work would be out in the world for all to see: to use, to learn from, and to appreciate.

Towards the end of compiling Philosophical Connections, Tony was also writing a full-length study of E.H. Visiak's work, something Tony had promised Visiak in the early 1970's a few years before he died. This was published in 2007.

But all of this work was at the expense of his own great masterpiece. Sadly Tony died in May 2009, with only the first chapter of Culture and the Human Condition completed.

Dr. Anthony Harrison-Barbet was a great and confident teacher and lecturer, clear and eloquent and hugely patient. He was a man of great wit and sense of humour, renowned by all for his daily use of puns and play on words. But on a personal level he was also a shy, reserved and private gentleman, honest and just and always respectful to anyone he met, and always grateful of any friendship and interest shown to him.

Anything one wanted to know one could ask of him: if he did not instantly know the answer he would drop whatever he was doing and look it up in a book. In fact the most common image one would have of Tony would be of him reading: The Times or Telegraph, poetry, periodicals, and a whole multitude of books to further his knowledge. He was an avid reader, and books, along with his computer and his beloved music (such a wide range of music) could keep him happy for days on end.

But he liked his breaks from intellectual stimulation. His pride and joy was his garden, which he tended to throughout the seasons for the 20 years that he lived in Bandon. Whilst gardening and growing his own produce, he would take great pleasure in observing and conversing with his feline and feathered visitors, whom he welcomed warm-heartedly.

He turned his hand to anything, DIY, mending, building and creating, and his holiday cottage at Ballinacarriga in the 1970's and 1980's was a much looked-forward-to project for him every year, occupying him for a full six weeks during the summer holidays. Tony was a very accomplished cook, in recent years taking over from Maeve all responsibilities for shopping and culinary duties (but not necessarily the washing up!). He produced with skill and pleasure great three-course feasts for all who came to stay. Stemming from his love for music he taught himself how to play the chromatic harmonica, treating his family to a fine rendition on New Year's Eve 2008. And he loved languages, learning through self instruction the rudiments of many. He took great enjoyment while abroad in being able to speak to people in their native tongue.

Tony felt very strongly the importance of families, and was always supportive and interested in everything and anything any of his children or grandchildren might be doing. He spent a whole lifetime researching family history -- not just his own lineages, but those of the Duggan branches too. He has left this beautifully and clearly presented, both in written and CD-ROM formats; a fantastic legacy for future generations.

At his 70th birthday party in March 2009, despite having been extremely unwell for weeks beforehand, he surprised his family with an unforgettable speech which he had prepared in his mind, unbeknownst to anyone, on the subject of families. He assembled together 11 of his 14 grandchildren. Using the words of Matthew Arnold's poem Dover Beach -- 'Ah my love, let us be true to one another' -- he told them that whatever different ways life takes them, they must always look out for each other. As always, he spoke so eloquently; his serious message, along with his good humour, holding his audience captive, listening to his every word.

Although Tony would describe himself as being of no particular religion (having partaken of the Church of England, Roman Catholicism, Agnosticism and Atheism during his lifetime), he was in fact a very spiritual man.

He loved nature and wild places, and enjoyed the feeling of being at one with and part of the 'great stupendous whole'. He was strongly influenced by the Church of England choral and organ music of his youth, a love for which remained with him throughout his life. In recent years Tony read widely on Tibetan Buddhism, which he found to be of great benefit to himself. And indeed, along with his positive and happy outlook, it may well have helped him cope through the last few years of his cancer.

Prostate cancer undoubtedly played a large part in his life, living with it for over 11 years. How he dealt with it was a complete inspiration to us all. As with everything, he read widely on the subject, and knew all there was to know about the disease. He would uncomplainingly suffer whatever it threw at him, and then pick himself up and get on with his life, even right up until his final weeks.

To all who ever knew Dr. Anthony Walton Harrison-Barbet, he was a very thorough man, who always gave of his absolute best. He will be sadly missed by his wife, his daughters, his sons-in-law, his brother, his grandchildren and great-granddaughter; his family, friends and colleagues. He has passed on the torch to the next generation, and moved on to a new journey, as yet unknown to the rest of us.

Tony once pondered that at the end of his life he would '...finally escape from Matthew Arnold's 'darkling plain' and follow Milton's 'uncouth swain' -- 'To morrow to fresh Woods and Pastures new'...'

Let us hope that he finds himself there, and that the legacies that he has left behind for us remain here for future generations.

www.geoffreyklempner.net

klempner@fastmail.net

International Society for Philosophers

Wisdom begins with wonder