Transcendental argument

 The transcendental argument for God (TAG) holds that logical absolutes prove God’s existence.

What, you may ask, is a tran­scendental argument? And what is a logical absolute?

A transcendental argument is not a particular argument. It’s a kind of argument. It’s a class of arguments. A transcendental argu­ment asserts that the acceptance of some specific proposition entails the ac­ceptance of some other proposition, typically one that the per­son has not previously realized they’re committed to.

Here’s an example. Suppose your friend said, “I think I am un­conscious.” You might reply to your friend, “But your statement that you think you’re unconscious indicates that you are thinking. If you were un­conscious, you could not think. There­fore, your conclusion that you’re unconscious is refuted by your premise that you’re think­ing.” Your friend, by acknowledging that she is thinking, transcended her own premise that she is unconscious. In this example, you pre­sented a transcen­dental argument to defeat your friend’s conclusion.

Transcendental arguments fall within the broader category of self-refuting arguments. When, for example, someone says, “Truths are not absolute,” a chorus of critics inevitably responds, “Is that state­ment expressing an absolute truth?” Most putatively self-refuting ar­guments are not really self-refuting. Critics fancy that they have caught their prey in a tight net, but the net is rarely as tight as presumed.[1]⁺ None­theless, an internal critique in which an inconsistency is identi­fied in someone’s worldview can be useful to both parties. It can pro­mote humility and inspire deeper investigation.

The term logical absolute, as used by apologists, denotes what aca­demic philosophers commonly call an axiom of classical log­ic. For the rest of this chapter, I will abbreviate logical absolute as LA.

One example of an LA is the law of identity, which says that some­thing is what it is and isn’t what it isn’t. For in­stance, an apple is an apple, not a banana. A cactus is a cactus, not a suppository. A puppy is a puppy, not an hors d’oeuvre.[2]⁺ As you can see, the law of iden­tity isn’t compli­cated. It’s common sense.

Another example of an LA is the law of noncontradiction, which says that a proposition can’t be both true and false. Consider the statement “I have a pickle.” That statement can’t be simultaneously true and false, since that would be a contradiction.

Our third and final LA is the law of the excluded mid­dle, which asserts that either a proposition is true or its negation is true.[3]⁺ The statement “I have a pickle” is either true or it is not.

These last two LAs sound similar, but they are not identical.

As mentioned, an LA is an axiom of classical log­ic. An axi­om is a proposition, typically one deemed self-evidently true or so well-estab­lished as to be beyond reasonable doubt. Whatever our level of con­fi­dence in an axiom, calling it an axiom means that we embrace it as a starting point or initial pre­suppo­sition upon which our reasoning is founded. LAs are therefore often regarded as founda­tional presup­positions.

A proposition can be expressed in written or verbal form as a statement. For example, I made a statement above that the law of identity dictates that “something is what it is and isn’t what it isn’t.” I could have stated that the law of identity holds that “whatever exists has a specific identity.” These two statements are alternative ways of express­ing the same proposition.

Suppose acorns, leaves, twigs, and other debris were to fall onto the ground, coincidentally forming the statement “It’s Fall.” The debris would not truly be express­ing a prop­o­si­tion. It would merely be forming an accidental pattern on the ground. An intelligent be­ing who happened upon that debris might, however, interpret the pattern as ex­pressing a proposi­tion. Mindless debris obviously can’t express a proposition. After all, mindless debris lacks the intellectual capacity to conceptualize prop­osi­tions. A proposition, including an axiom of logic or an LA, is a con­cept in the mind of an intelligent being.

A proposition is always about something. We designate what a proposition is about as the proposition’s referent. Consider, for in­stance, an axiom from geometry. The referent of the geomet­ry axiom might be, let us say, an el­lipse. Here’s an example axiom: “The sum of the distances to the two focal points is constant for every point on the curve.” Note that the referent of the proposition is an ellipse, but the axiom is not an ellipse; it’s just a proposition—a concept. That may strike you as a trite observation, too obvious to even state, but my reason for stressing this distinction will become clear in a moment.

The properties of an axiom are not those of the referent. A geo­metry axiom about ellipses, like every other proposition, is concep­tual in nature. But what is the nature or essence of the referent, the referent in this case being an ellipse? It sounds like a simple question, but the essence of geometrical entities, numbers, and other abstract stuff has been debated by philosophers dating back to Plato. It is known as the problem of universals.

Consider an ellipse. An ellipse is mani­fest in Earth’s orbit around the sun.[4]⁺ While the move­ment of Earth through its ellipti­cal orbit is a physical occurrence, an ellipse is not itself a physi­cal or tangible thing.

We can entertain the idea of an ellipse. You and I could each be thinking of an ellipse right now, but the ellipses we are contemplat­ing could be of quite different dimensions. When we speak generally of an el­lipse in the broadest possible terms, we are not speaking about one person’s particular con­ception of an ellipse, or even a col­lection of everyone’s various conceptions of an ellipse. We are speak­ing of an ellipse in the most general sense we can. It is this maximal­ly general and ab­stract no­tion of an ellipse that is the referent.

An LA is likewise an abstrac­tion. We must not confuse this abstrac­tion with its manifestations discoverable in particu­lars throughout the physical realm. Incidentally, the per­spec­tive I am elucidating here is one known in philosophy circles as con­ceptualism.

The point I wish to emphasize is that an LA, as a proposition, resides within the mind, though it describes features manifest within na­ture. Indeed, our exposure to those manifesta­tions doubtless caused our conceptualization of the LA.

Understand­ing the distinction be­tween LAs and their physical manifestations is essential to our analy­sis of TAG. Matt Slick’s version of TAG is reproduced below with minor editing for formatting and concision.

Logical absolutes are not dependent on people. That is, they are not the product of human thinking. People’s minds are different. What one person considers absolute may not be what another considers ab­solute. People often contradict each other. There­fore, logical abso­lutes cannot be the product of human, contra­dictory minds. . . .

Logical absolutes are not the product of the physical universe since that would mean they were contingent on atoms, motion, heat, etc. . . . If their nature were dependent upon physical existence, they would cease to exist when the physical universe ceases to exist. But, if the universe did not exist, logical absolutes [would still hold] true. For example, if the universe did not exist, it would still be true that something cannot bring itself into existence and that if A = B and B = C, then A = C. The condition of the universe does not affect these truths. For example, if the universe did not exist, it would still be true that something cannot be itself and not itself at the same time. Therefore, logical absolutes are not dependent on the material world. . . .

Logic is a process of the mind. Logical absolutes provide the framework for logical thought processes. Therefore . . . logical abso­lutes are conceptual by nature . . . If they are conceptual by nature, then they are not dependent upon the physical universe for their ex­istence. . . .

Thoughts reflect the mind. A person’s thoughts are the product of that person’s mind . . . It seems fair to say that an absolutely perfect mind would produce perfect thoughts. Since the logical absolutes are transcendent, absolute, are perfectly consistent, and are independent of the universe, then it seems proper to say that they reflect a transcendent, absolute, perfect, and independent mind. We call this transcendent, absolute, perfect, and independent mind God.[5]

In his first paragraph, Slick asserts that LAs are “not the product of human minds.” This is incorrect. LAs are propositions established in hu­man minds (through some combination of innate brain wiring, un­con­­scious exposure, and conscious deliberation).

Slick goes on to say, “What one person considers absolute may not be what another considers absolute.” Perhaps, but I have never known of anyone who didn’t embrace all three LAs dis­cussed above. Granted, a philosopher might specu­late that the law of non­contradiction isn’t universally binding, a position called dialethe­ism. But even the phi­losopher, while operating in ordinary life, im­plicitly endorses LAs.

According to Slick, “if the universe did not exist, logical absolutes [would still hold] true.” We can’t test that assertion. We can’t make the uni­verse blink momen­tarily out of existence to see if the law of iden­tity continues to hold true. In fact, Slick’s hypothetical scenario in which the uni­verse ceas­es to exist is unintelligible without ap­pealing to the law of identity and to the other LAs. Our embrace of LAs is a pre­requi­site to any thought experiment concerning the existence or non­existence of the uni­verse. Thus, his argu­ment begs the ques­tion.

Theoretical physicists can construct models in which spacetime is absent, but when we think about the absence of the cosmos, we find that Im­man­uel Kant was right: “We can never imagine or make a rep­resen­ta­tion to our­selves of the non-existence of space.”[6] This ap­pears to be an epis­temic limita­tion imposed on us by the fact that our an­cestors always occupied space. Physicists studying virtual parti­cles tell us that, in the words of Stephen Hawk­ing, “there is no such thing as empty space.”[7] Slick’s thought exper­i­ment was meant to prove that LAs would persist if the physical realm ceased to exist, but it re­vealed only that our imagina­tions are tight­ly con­strained by our mental pro­gramming. Slick took an aspect of human brain func­tion­ing, our ineluc­table belief in LAs, and pro­jected it onto the cos­mos. That’s a very human thing to do.

Slick says, “Since the logical absolutes are transcendent, ab­solute, are perfectly consistent, and are inde­pendent of the universe, then it seems proper to say that they reflect a trans­cendent, absolute, per­fect, and independent mind . . .” By trans­cendent, Slick presumably means that LA referents are mani­fest in the physical realm with­out (he sup­poses) being de­pendent on the physical realm. He has given us no sound reason to believe this is so.

He says LAs are “ab­solute” and “perfectly con­sistent,” though he previously said (1) LAs vary from person to person and (2) LAs are not necessarily true in the physical realm. He conflates LAs with LA referents. Slick views our imperfect conception of LAs as a mere shad­ow of God’s conception of LAs. He further believes that God’s con­ception of LAs has causal influ­ence on the physical realm.

LAs referents being mani­fested by nature does not mean they reg­ulate nature, any more than the fact that natu­ral laws being manifested by nature means they reg­ulate nature. We don’t know if the laws or phys­ical constants of nature are absolute or perfectly consistent. Nor do we know whether our human conceptions of the LAs correspond to any nonhuman con­cep­tions of LAs.

Additionally, if the divine mind can change, we cannot know from one instant to the next whether we are thinking logically—that is, in syn­chrony with God’s current thinking. Even if we had access to God’s mind, we cannot compare our ideas to God’s to deter­mine whether we agree unless we have logical stand­ards to test for agree­ment. So, Slick’s idea that our conception of LAs is a shadow of God’s con­ception of LAs is pure speculation (even if we knew God existed).

If LAs are contingent on God’s mind, perhaps we should call them logical contingencies. Slick has argued elsewhere that God cannot change his mind be­cause he is all-perfect and unchanging.[8] I suppose this means that Slick, unlike physicists, knows that the phys­ical man­i­fes­ta­tions of the LAs (or rather LA referents) cannot ever change.

Slick’s statement that God can’t change his mind raises the ques­tion as to how Slick deciphered this biograph­ical in­formation about God. To insist that God’s mind doesn’t change is to say that God never learns or makes decisions. Nor can God alter his divine plan. Slick needs to explain Exodus 32:14: “So the LORD changed his mind about the terrible disas­ter he had threatened to bring on his people” (NLT).[9]⁺ (Incidentally, prede­termina­tion is not theologically ob­jec­tion­able to Calvin­ists like Slick, who agree that an all-perfect and changeless god won’t change his mind in response to prayer.)

There is yet another problem in Slick’s argument. Either God can or can­not revoke the law of identity. If he can, then the law of identity is not an absolute. If God cannot revoke the law of identity, then the law of ident­ity is sover­eign and God is one of its subjects. In that case, LAs lack a divine im­primatur and hence aren’t evi­dence of God.

Slick might say that the law of identity emerges from God’s na­ture. But God cannot have a nature without there being a law of identity. An entity cannot express its properties before the entity ex­ists. Slick’s failure to establish God’s priority or suprem­acy over the law of identity invalidates his claim that God is neces­sary to account for the law of identity.

Slick eventually terminates his mental meanderings with his con­clusion that the rule-like part of reality is generated by a divine mind, a perspec­tive reminiscent of that ad­vo­cated by Bishop George Berkeley in A Treatise Concerning the Principles of Human Knowledge (1710). Unlike Berkeley, who proposed that the entire universe was an idea in God’s mind, Slick allows the universe to exist out­side the mind of God. Only the LAs, the rules by which the universe (through some unspecified mechanism) allegedly operates, reside within the mind of God. Slick, after traversing a tortuous route of illogical hopscotch, eventually manu­factures a cold, imper­sonal, and thoroughly inflexible rule book that he can arbitrarily label as God.

Given that LAs are axioms of classical logic, and given that there are non-classical logics, LAs may not be universal. Would Slick there­fore concede that his god may not be universal? If the law of identity resides as an idea within the mind of God and if it emanates from God, rather than God himself being subject to it, then by what rule of log­ic can we say God either exists or doesn’t?

In chapter 14, we will discuss presuppositional apologetics, which con­tend that we must presuppose the existence of God if we are to account for logic. TAG is sometimes lumped in with presupposi­tional apologetics because both (1) cite God as the foundation for logic, (2) argue that logic presupposes the existence of God, and (3) accuse atheists of blindness to the fact that logic emanates from God. Stylistically as well, Slick resembles the presuppo­sitionalists in his brash, haughty presentation.

But there are crucial differences. Presuppositionalists insist that eve­ryone already be­lieves in God and that atheists merely sup­press their knowledge of God. Presuppo­sitionalists therefore offer no rational argument for God’s existence. They simply presup­pose the existence of God. That’s why they are called presuppo­sition­alists.

Slick, in contrast, takes a traditional evidentialist approach. Even if Slick elsewhere embraces presuppo­sitionalism, in the case of TAG he holds that we need not pre­suppose God’s ex­istence. Slick says that we can argue from the existence of logic to the existence of God. TAG is thus an example not of presuppositional apologetics, but of a contin­gency argument. TAG argues that logic is con­tingent on God.

Given that atheists and believers alike accept that logic exists, Slick begins his argument on common ground. Unlike presup­positionalists, who demand a theistic starting point, Slick assumes a neu­tral starting point. Unfor­tunately, his argu­ment is muddled and confused. His argument there­fore runs off the rails the moment he tries to ad­vance beyond this neutral starting point.

[1] For example, a YouTube atheist averred that a religious claim is merely a claim, not evidence. An apologist then responded that “saying ‘claims are not evidence’ is also a claim.” The apologist was correct, of course, but his observation was not the “gotcha” he believed it was. The atheist conceded that his claim required evidence and that his mere issuance of the claim was not itself evidence.

[2] In self-reporting polls, as many as 30 percent of South Koreans say they have eaten dog meat, though the younger generation eats less. The eating of dog meat is believed to remain popular in North Korea.

[3] The law of the excluded middle applies if you’re making non-self-referential statements that conform to the other two logical absolutes. Intuitionist philosophers say some statements may be indeterminate, as in the liar paradox: “This sentence is false.” L. E. J. Brouwer, founder of mathematical intuitionism, argued that the law of the excluded middle can’t be assumed to apply to infinities.

[4] Earth’s orbit is not perfectly elliptical because the sun is moving through space and because the sun effectually pulls at the center of mass of the Earth–moon system. But an ellipse is a good approximation.

[5] Matt Slick, “The Transcendental Argument for the Existence of God,” Christian Apologetics and Research Ministry, December 9, 2008, https://carm.org/defending-the-faith/the-transcendental-argument-for-the-existence-of-god/.

[6] Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason (1781), 23.

[7] Hawking and Mlodinow, The Grand Design, 113.

[8] Matt Slick, “Answering the Transcendental Argument for the Nonexistence of God,” Christian Apologetics and Research Ministry, December 9, 2008, https://carm.org/atheism/answering-the-transcendental-argument-for-the-nonexistence-of-god/.

[9] Some translations say that God “relented” or “repented,” but these verbs still convey the notion that God changed his mind.

Speaking of word choices, you may have noticed throughout the Bible (as in the quoted passage) various capitalizations of the word lord. Three variations are common: lord, Lord, and LORD. The word lord refers to an honored man. The word Lord is a placeholder for God‘s proper name. The word LORD transliterates into English as YHWH, the sacred name of the god of the Jewish nation, which Jews could not utter. These capitalization rules are violated by some biblical translations.