This is a 6000-word essay that I submitted for a course in EFL University, Hyderabad. Read Part II here.
Is Skepticism Healthy in Religious Dialogue?
In a discussion amid two or more human beings—be they of the same faith, across faiths, atheists, agnostics; anyone for that matter—pertaining to the religious, let us assume that the objective of this dialogue is a search for truth. While this must mean there is tacit agreement that the conclusions drawn from this dialogue will either correspond to the belief of one, of all or of none of the parties, a deeper assumption is also present—that the conclusions themselves will be conclusive.
If, for instance, a religious dialogue on the existence or nature of God were to occur between a Christian and a Hindu, one would hear two hugely differing initial opinions. The Christian would speak of the Bible, of the tales of Moses and of Jesus Christ, the son of God. This initial opinion would, of course, be thoroughly incompatible with the Trimurti or the feats of the Dashavatara that the Hindu presumably believes. It is here that Skepticism emerges.
While there have been deliberations, over time, on the specifics of this ancient Hellenistic philosophy, it is generally understood that its core tenet lies in a refusal or reticence to commit to truths or lies. Therefore, even statements considered ‘factual’ today—such as, say, the Earth being spherical—would, by ancient Skeptics, not be definitively stated as fact or falsity.
(As Skepticism reemerged through epistemologists such as Descartes, Spinoza and Hume, the philosophy metamorphosized into different forms. However, for the sake of expediency, let us for now relegate later, finer modifications of this philosophy to the secondary, and consider instead the initial theories of Hellenistic Skepticism, thus letting us analyze its influence on religious discourse in greater detail.)
In the aforementioned example, let us further assume that the two parties are willing and able to converse without spite or slander. If, therefore, the Christian and the Hindu suspend personal affiliations in search for common truth, it logically follows that they will begin with questioning the verisimilitude of each other’s beliefs, for both beliefs must be looked at as objectively as possible to determine which one is conclusive—or if there is a third truth to be agreed upon.
The fault with such an approach, which has already been illustrated by the ancient Skeptics, is obvious. Ultimately, these individual opinions are on events occurring more than millions of years ago, since (and sometimes before) the supposed event of Creation. These truths were passed on by oral and written traditions in the form of stories, treatises, aphorisms, etc., all of which the Skeptic finds to be fallible. Indeed, for the Skeptic, who entirely subsumes himself to reason, there cannot even be any stamp, seal, attestation or validation from the material or transcendent world to conclusively prove or disprove any event. It was not for nothing that Carneades, the ancient Skeptic, was critical of the Stoic notion that cognitive perception had no impediments. Since sensory perceptions inform the human mind, it follows that all facts can be undermined.
Ultimately, once all the sources of knowledge of the Christian or Hindu party—from the words of the pastor to the sensory receptors informing the mind—that have subsequently informed their judgement are found as potentially imperfect, the dialogue will have no choice but to descend to faith i.e. a sentence along the lines of: “I believe that this is the case.”
However, in the dominion of reason, this is no valid course of argument. Rationality was the rock upon which Skepticism built its church. Arcesilaus, a preacher of Academic Skepticism, was of the opinion that, by following rational thought, one could successfully live a life without beliefs i.e. become a skeptic. He appears to contradict himself by later suspending judgement on knowledge and reason itself. However, that may be interpreted as a more noncommittal attitude to any person or institution claiming absolute truth, core to many Skeptic thinkers. It certainly seems that Arcesilaus preferred cognitive faculties, rather than affective ones, to be developed instead.
Even if one puts theories of Arcesilaus or any Skeptic aside, one can postulate by simply viewing the evolution of human beings from primates to sapiens, that the evolution of the human mind is from a domain of instinct and emotion to logic and reason—and then speculate that the goal may be to continue this pursuit.
If rationality and Skeptic philosophy is followed to its ultimate end, any religious dialogue premised on the intent to find the truth of Creation, God, the purpose of existence, etc. will end as soon as it begins, for Skepticism is anathema to truth. Carneades played truth for a fool when he praised Plato and derided Aristotle in a lecture in Rome, only to reverse his own praise in a later lecture.
Assuming these not unreasonable conditions are applied, it may be argued that what follows is a blessing in disguise. Religious dialogues are often cause for conflict on regional and global levels. If all parties, instead, debate rationally and infer—as Skepticism does—that there is indeed nothing one may infer, could the philosophy provide for homogeneity and unity of many minds?
Consider the implications of this insertion of Skepticism in each and every religious dialogue. It would mean that on a global level, no one would be able to satisfactorily and conclusively prove any religious dogma or theory. The existence and deeds of Brahma, Yahweh, Allah, etc. would not necessarily be disproven, but everyone would have to concede that there could be considerable room for doubt. The same would also apply to attempts to find God in the material world, such as Spinozist pantheism or Schelling’s linkage of creation with nature, for (as aforementioned) if Skepticism questions the validity of our own cognition, then even the senses informing these perceptions are unreliable.
One could assume that the result of such a hypothetical scenario would be, over time, a complete cessation of religious dialogue. The rational faculties of every human being would in time agree that there is nothing that can be agreed or disagreed upon, and once every mind has made its peace with this notion, any need to cling to personal or religious doctrines would seem senseless.
The benefits to a global Skepticism are unmissable. Cessation of religious dialogue would lead to a cessation in religious conflict, for once there are no strong sentiments of loyalty or love assigned to the religions followed by humans, wars in the names of gods or deities would come to an end. Religious sects and sects within them would lower their divisions and unite.
It may be argued that each religion requires an emotional investment from its followers for its survival. Therefore, in this scenario, one could also conclude that each and every religion would crumble. It may also happen that Skepticism would arise as a religion, even if it would have to be a religion governed by rationality (but this is a digression).
Despite its benefits, any religious dialogue dominated by Skepticism also has the potential to be destructive. It would, in its attempt to open minds by considering all possibilities, also narrow the minds of all. In the aforementioned example of the conversation between the Christian and the Hindu, what if God were to interrupt their dialogue at that minute and assert his existence? Would there not yet be scope to interpret this divine presence as delusional or hallucinatory? The skeptic, in his noncommittal attitude, would be forced to refuse to agree to the existence of anything true, even if God himself claims it so. The result would be that the truth-seeking objective of the religious dialogue would be defeated.
Let us not only remain constricted to religious dialogue and instead, briefly, consider the speculated effects of global Skepticism on all walks of life, for that may illustrate its drawbacks better. More specifically, Pyrrhonism—a form of ancient Skepticism that slightly differs from Academic Skepticism—could help further explain this criticism.
Pyrrhonism differs from Socrates or Xenophanes in the degree of its absoluteness. Socrates and Xenophanes were considered as precursors to Skeptics, but it is implied that they believed—despite Socrates’ dialectical experiments on the beliefs of Athenians, or Xenophanes’ assertion that no human being will know truth—that there yet existed an absolute truth. However, Pyrrho (via the writings of Timon of Philus) vehemently denies the existence of this absolute truth itself.
He [Timon] says that he [Pyrrho] reveals that things are equally indifferent and unstable and indeterminate; for this reason, neither our perceptions nor our beliefs tell the truth or lie.
Pyrrhonism aims at peace, but this is a peace achieved by understanding that it is in one’s nature to know nothing; therefore, any beliefs, perceptions and emotions mean nothing as well, and one would be better suited to renounce them. Pyrrho is perhaps the purest Skeptic in this regard, for even Arcesilaus believed that a human could guard themselves against falsehood (thus implying the existence of ‘falsehood’ itself) by personal perceptions and beliefs informed by experience. Upon such a suppression—even of the desire of knowledge—Pyrrhonism believes that a state of speechlessness would follow, and ultimately, peace.
The peace Pyrrhonism believes in is highly problematic. Its pitfalls may be seen in the life of Pyrrho himself. If we are to assume that the accounts of his life were the product of him being enabled to follow his own philosophies, then the result was that Pyrrho forsook all desires and motives. With the caveat that the details of a person who died in the 3rd century BC can be fallible, Pyrrho’s life was reported as unusual by several standards. There is a tale of Pyrrho’s friends pulling him off the street when a wagon approached, since Pyrrho himself was unable and/or unwilling to register the oncoming vehicle as a threat. There is another story of him disregarding the plight of a drowning man, a story that—while understandable given his noncommittal attitude to emotion—portrays him in an unsympathetic light.
Through the enigmatic figure of Pyrrho—assuming, again, the accounts of his life to be reliable—one can approximate the fate of every human being turning Skeptic to its bitter end. If this inertia takes hold even on basic, primal urges of hunger, sleep, sex or survival, a world full of Skeptics would not only cause the death of religious dialogue, it would also be the death of morality, of action, of all beings.
Many would, at this point, draw a line in the sand. What many consider to be the core of philosophy—that it ought to be the way of life—is here threatened by Skepticism. If the Skeptic is uncompromising in the application of its philosophy, Skepticism becomes a way of death, not a way of life.
If Skepticism is unhealthy in its application on all walks of life, then what of only religious dialogue? Skepticism, as previously concluded, fails its objective to sustain healthy religious dialogue by ending all forms of religious dialogue. The solution of the Skeptic to any religious topic is to reduce it to its constructs, which is synonymous to casting aside important questions on creation, God or existence.
However, any arguments may be easily dismissed by the Skeptic, counterargued by the simple assertion (as mentioned before) that such a sequence of events—be it the death of dialogue, morality, or even beings—should be allowed to pass. After all, it was a purely rational outlook on all things that led mankind to this point; it could well be possible that the death of dialogue or the death of all was the intended path for mankind.
The Skeptic could thus successfully ward off any and every one of its criticisms. To argue the finer points would be futile, for the philosophy is almost stuck in a closed loop of sorts. Therefore, it would be tempting for many to end their philosophical quests at Skepticism and claim that religious dialogue has its best chance of reaching peaceful consensus when a global Skeptic approach is adopted.
However, here there is an attempt to find the most realistic and viable model of healthy religious dialogue. If there is a stumbling block of the global Skeptic model, it is that the aforementioned scenario presupposes two assumptions too many for it to be considered a practical model in the world.
Both of these assumptions are closely interlinked. Let us consider the first; the necessity to suppress emotion in religious dialogue. The model assumes that those who, despite acknowledging the conclusions of Skepticism in religious dialogue, choose to ignore them and instead cling to their religious beliefs (out of pride, habit, or any purpose led by sentiment) cannot be included in this scenario. It is required that each human adheres to conclusions drawn by purely rational faculties.
This assumption is highly impractical. The Christian and the Hindu—in the early example—may engage in a cordial, courteous dialogue and conclude on Skeptic ideals, but is such a conclusion powerful enough to suppress the individual’s emotions? For the Christian and for the Hindu, the religious ceremonies, dogmas, thoughts, etc. they grew up with were inherent to their value systems until the dialogue. It does not matter if those thoughts were products of Marxist false consciousness, Gramscian Ideology or Althusserian Interpellation, for there is high emotional investment to these practices (and, crucially, to the religion) that cannot be understated. It is unrealistic to suggest that one, or even a series of Skeptic-oriented conversations will be enough to homogenize everyone’s way of being. At the very least, one must expect emotion to tussle with Skepticism, producing mixed results varying on the subject.
The second problematic assumption of the global Skeptic model is that of the Skeptic’s relation with truth. Despite identifying and acknowledging Skepticism’s undermining of truth, many of the brightest minds did not commit completely to the consequences of such a notion. Peter Abelard claimed that words were the only universals (implying they alone connote reality) a notion that Ferdinand de Saussure carried forth when he posited that language came prior to reality. The Cartesian model of rationalism involved deriving complex inferences from simple, reliable and minimal premises, but it could be argued that some of those premises were assumed. Existentialists like Søren Kierkegaard and Jean-Paul Sartre turned to faith in God and the self respectively, from which they derived meaning—and, therefore, a form of reality.
If one believes that the sun rises in the east, one may recognize the Skeptic’s counterargument of, say, cardinal directions being manmade constructs. However, despite such acknowledgments, one may yet choose to believe in the reality of cardinal directions (and, therefore, of the sun rising in the east), instead of the Skeptic—merely because it is an easier, more practical manner of thinking. Truths, regardless of their actual verisimilitude, are essential to everyone’s lives. Ultimately, the tendency of human beings to search for and assume meaning—even when there may be none—remains in perpetual conflict with the Skeptic ideal.
If truths are essential to religious discourse, it is necessary to agree upon them. However, before tackling religious truth (or, at least, any religious statement that people can agree upon), one must consider truth in general. The Skeptic model has its flaws, but it is nonetheless an important tool in this investigation. We can, with its assistance, at the very least, assert that objective truth in religion is not possible to find.
Is the next best alternative to objective truth an objective probability? The contributions of David Hume in the realm of probability and causation appear to be, in this regard, promising. He identified that if event ‘B’ followed event ‘A’ repetitively, the human mind assumed that event ‘A’ was the cause of the occurrence of event ‘B’. This would lead to theories and experimentations on the basis of causation. Hume criticizes this notion by using the example of day and night. In most places and at most times, day follows night and night follows day with approximate intervals of twelve hours; however, it has been proved (as much as any phenomenon may be proved) that day and night do not cause each other. When sugar is mixed in water it is assumed that the water will be sweet; but this is an assumption on the basis of experience, expectation and probability. Therefore, one cannot ever be certain that an event will definitively reoccur simply by controlling the event prior to it.
While Hume’s contributions on probability have been of great aid, the trouble occurs when one assumes this probability to be objective. Let us consider one of the most famous conflicts in religious dialogue—that of religion versus science—using the aid of Peter Bertocci.
Religion and science, in their broadest senses, attempt to explain events on the planet by two different paths. Most religions adhere to the idea of God. Therefore, for the religious, God assumes the position of the aforementioned event ‘A’. If rainfall wets barren lands when the farmer needs it the most, the religious will logically attribute this event ‘B’ as following from the hand of God. Therefore, for the religious, event ‘B’ follows event ‘A’, and the world remains a network of order and dependable sequences.
The scientist believes in order and causation as well; however, instead of asserting the existence of God as event ‘A’, he instead replaces it with the existence of a greater phenomenon, identified through logic and data. Therefore, rainfall may be explained within the greater order of the water cycle (this assuming event ‘A’), just as the fall of an apple may be explained by the greater order of gravitational forces.
We see here that two entities of knowledge have attempted to explain the same event with the same principles, yet end up explaining it in two completely different manners. If probability is objective, how and why were there such huge fissions? It was because, ultimately, the religious chose to have faith in the existence of God and a divine plan, just as the scientist chose to have faith in the verisimilitude of postulations and experimentations. Thus, probability, like truth, became subjective as well.
It was perhaps this realization that led Hume to develop the notion of Mitigated Skepticism; possibly an attempt to modify the perceived absoluteness of the Hellenistic philosophy. It was a conscious admittance that, despite the fact that conclusive proofs could not exist—and that one’s expectations of event ‘B’ following event ‘A’ did not necessarily equate to knowledge—one must continue to act instead of living in a state of perpetual abstinence. It was also a realization drawn from his assertion that, because of the malleability of rational statements, passions twist reason instead of it being the other way around.
While the notion of probability (and truth) being subjective to the individual has been well theorized throughout philosophy, Hume’s view of emotions guiding rational faculties is the critical inference to consider in the context of religious dialogue. Absolute reason will necessarily lead us to the Skeptic dystopia, but reason governed by emotion will lead to the heterogeneity of religious opinions present today. Therefore, it must conclusively be proven that in a realistic world, emotion ought to be considered in greater importance in relation to any religious dialogue.
Originally published: 17 October 2019 (apx.)
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