Consensus & Source

I see both atheists and theists finding a scientific study or paper from somewhere on the internet and posting it as a central support to their argument or claim. This study or paper might even be written by someone with a degree in a relevant field. That's great, but the internet is a big place and there are all kinds of people who use it. The interpretations of data and the conclusions to be drawn from them can vary as much as the agendas and biases of the article writers. The best thing to do is to only look at the data and apply your own encyclopedic knowledge gained from being an expert in the field to draw your own conclusions.

Oh, that’s right, I’m not. I only know the broad strokes of evolution, TV cosmology and pop-quantum physics. In other words, I don’t know shit. I know a lot more than the average guy walking down the street, but it’s relative. If I know anything, it's my limitations.

Which brings me to the conundrum. In order to talk about issues beyond my pay grade, I need to trust some of those papers and studies by the professionals. The best way I see to go about this is by focusing on consensus and source. Papers from respected journals with no clear agenda are more valuable than those from publishers with a vested interest in certain kinds of conclusions. The assessments supported by the majority of the community should be taken more seriously than fringe assessments by outliers.

I know this is the road to the fallacious arguments from authority and popularity, that’s why it’s important to consider source and consensus not as markers of truth, but as markers for a better likelihood of truth. It’s not perfect, but I can think of no better way. Can you?

Why History isn't Scientific (And Why It Can Still Tell Us About the Past)

The following is a post from Tim O'Neill who is much more knowledgeable than I on matters of history, but I'm still pretty sure I have him beat in James Bond trivia.

"History sucks."

In April last year Grundy, the usual writer of this blog, posted History Isn't My Area, commenting on the release of Bart Ehrman's critique of the Jesus Myth hypothesis, Did Jesus Exist?: A Historical Argument for Jesus of Nazareth. Unlike the majority of actual historians, many prominent atheists find Jesus Mythicism convincing and many of them are unhappy with the generally sceptical and highly renowned Ehrman for criticizing this idea. Grundy, for his part, stated frankly "I honestly have little knowledge as to whether or not Jesus existed", though added "I tend to think he did". That said, he made it clear why the overwhelming consensus of historians and other relevant scholars that the Jesus Myth idea is junk was underwhelming for him:

"History sucks. Okay, that’s unfair, but it was never my subject. My confidence of the accuracy of historical events goes down exponentially with the paper trail. The idea that history is written by the victors highlights the biases of the past. Books are burned. Records fade. Who should I trust for an accurate portrayal of events two thousand years ago?"

Since history actually is my area, I responded by making some critical comments on this attitude and some points about how history , as an academic discipline, is studied. Grundy, unlike many so-called "rationalists" I've encountered over the years, was happy to listen, and he invited me to expand on my points in this guest post.

Atheists and Historical Illiteracy

I should begin, however, by pointing out that I am an atheist. I have been an atheist for my entire adult life, am a paid up member of several atheist and sceptical organizations and have a 21 year online record of posting to discussions as an unbeliever. I note this because I've found that when I begin to criticise my fellow atheists and their grasp of history or historiography, people tend to assume I must be some kind of theist apologist (which doesn't follow at all, but this happens all the time anyway).

After 30+ years of observing and taking part in debates about history with many of my fellow atheists I can safely claim that most atheists are historically illiterate. This is not particular to atheists: they tend to be about as historically illiterate as most people, since historical illiteracy is pretty much the norm. But it does mean that when most (not all) atheists comment about history or, worse, try to use history in debates about religion, they are usually doing so with a grasp of the subject that is stunted at about high school level.

This is hardly surprising, given that most people don't study history past high school. But it means their understanding of any given historical person, subject or event is (like that of most people), based on half-remembered school lessons, perhaps a TV documentary or two and popular culture: mainly novels and movies. Which is why most atheists (like most people) have a grasp of history which is, to be brutally frank, largely crap.

Worse, this also means that most atheists (again, like most people) have a grasp of how history is studied and the techniques of historical analysis and synthesis which is also stunted at high school level - i.e. virtually non-existent. With a few laudable exceptions, high school history teachers still tend to reduce history to facts and dates organized into themes or broad topics. How we can know what happened in the past, with what degree of certitude we can know it and the techniques used to arrive at these conclusions are rarely more than touched on at this level. This means that when the average atheist (yet again, like the average person generally) grasps that our knowledge of the past is not as cut and dried and clear as Mr Wilkins the history teacher gave us to understand, they tend to reject the whole thing as highly uncertain at best or subjective waffle at worst. Or, as Grundy put it, as "crap".

This rejection can be more pronounced in atheists, because many (not all) come to their atheism via a study of science. Science seems very certain compared to history. You can make hypotheses and test them in science. You can actually prove things. Scientific propositions are, by definition, falsifiable. Compared to science, history can seem like so much hand-waving, where anyone can pretty much argue anything they like.

History and Science

In fact, history is very much a rigorous academic discipline, with its own rules and methodology much like the hard sciences. This does not mean it is a science. It is sometimes referred to as one, especially in Europe, but this is only in the broader sense of the word; as in "a systematic way of ordering and analysing knowledge". But before looking at how the historical method works, it might be useful to look at how sciences differ from it.

The hard sciences are founded on the principle of probabilistic induction. A scientist uses an inductive or "bottom up" approach to work from observing specific particulars ("mice injected with this drug put on less fat") to general propositions ("the drug is reducing their appetite"). These propositions are falsifiable via empirical testing to rule out other explanations of the particulars ("the drug is increasing their metabolism" or "those mice are more stressed by being stuck with syringes") and so can be tested.

This is all possible in the hard sciences because of some well-established laws of cause and effect that form a basis for this kind of induction. If something is affecting the mice in my examples above today, it will affect them in the same way tomorrow, all things being equal. This allows a scientist to work from induction to make an assessment of probable causation via empirical assessment and do so with a high degree of confidence. And their assessment can be confirmed by others because the empirical measures are controlled and repeatable.

Unfortunately, none of this works for the study of the past. Events, large and small, occur and then are gone. A historian can only assess information about them from traces they may, if we are lucky, leave behind. But unlike a researcher from the hard sciences, a historian can't run the fall of the Western Roman Empire through a series of controlled lab experiments. He can't even observe the events, as a zoologist might observe the behaviour of a gorilla band, and draw conclusions. And there aren't well-defined laws and principles at work (apart from in a very broad and subjective sense) that allow him to, say, simulate the effects of the rise of the printing press or decide on the exact course of the downfall of Napoleon the way a theoretical physicist can with the composition of a distant galaxy or the formation of a long dead star.

All this leads some atheists, who have fallen in to the fallacy of scientism and reject anything that can't be definitively "proven", to reject the idea of any degree of certainty about the past. This is an extreme position and it's rarely a consistent one. As I've noted to some who have claimed this level of historical scepticism, I find it hard to believe they maintain this position when they read the newspaper, even though they should be just as sceptical about being able to know about a car accident yesterday as they are about knowing about a revolution 400 years ago.

The Historical Method

Just because history is not a hard science does not mean it can't tell us about the past or can't do so with a degree of certainty. Early historians like Herodotus established the beginnings of the methods used by modern historical researchers, though historians only began to develop a systematic methodology based on agreed principles from the later eighteenth century onwards, using the techniques of Barthold Niebuhr (1776-1831) and Leopold van Ranke (1795-1886).

The Historical Method is based on three fundamental steps, each of which has its own techniques:

1. Heuristic - This is the identification of relevant material to use as sources of information. These can range from the obvious, such as a historian of the time's account of events he witnessed personally, to the much less obvious, like a medieval manor's account book detailing purchases for the estate. Everything from archaeological finds to coins to heraldry can be relevant here. The key word here is "relevant", and there is a high degree of skill in working out which sources of information are pertinent to the subject in question.
2. Criticism - This is the process of appraisal of the source material in the light of the question being answered or subject being examined. It involves such things as determining the level of "authenticity" of a source (Is it what is seems to be?), its "integrity" (Can its account be trusted? What are its biases?), its context (What genre is it? Is it responding or reacting to another source? Is it using literary tropes that need to be treated with scepticism?) Material evidence, such are archaeology, architecture, art , coins etc needs to be firmly put into context to be understood. Documentary sources also need careful contextualisation - the social conditions of their production, their polemical intent (if any), their reason for production (more important for a political speech than a birth certificate, for example) , their intended audience and the background and biases of their writer (if known) all have to be taken into account.
3. Synthesis and Exposition - This is the formal statement of the findings from steps 1 and 2, which each finding supported by reference to the relevant evidence.

The key difference between this method and those used in the hard sciences is that the researcher lays all this material, its analysis and his conclusions out systematically, but the conclusions are a subjective assessment of likelihood rather than an objective statement of probabilistic induction. This subjectivity is what many trained in the sciences find alien about history and lead them to reject history as insubstantial.

But the key thing to understand here is that the historian is not working toward an absolute statement about what definitely happened in the past, since that is generally impossible except on trivial points (eg there is no doubt that Adolf Hitler was born on April 20 1889). A historian instead works to present what is called "the argument to the best explanation". In other words, the argument that best accounts for the largest amount of relevant evidence with the least number of suppositions. This means that the Principle of Parsimony, also known as Occam's Razor, is a key tool in historical analysis; historians always favour the most parsimonious interpretation that takes account of the most available evidence.

For example, regarding the existence of Jesus, it is far more parsimonious to conclude that Christianity's figure of "Jesus Christ" evolved out of the ideas of the followers of a historical Jewish preacher, since all of our earliest information tells us that this "Jesus Christ" was a historical Jewish preacher who had been executed circa 30 CE. People have tried to propose alternative origins for the figure of "Jesus Christ", positing an earlier Jewish sect that believed in a purely celestial figure who became "historicised" into an earthly, historical Jesus later. But there is no evidence of any such proto-Christian sect and no reason such a sect would exist and then vanish without leaving any trace in the historical record. This is why historians find these "Jesus Myth" hypotheses uncompelling - they are not the most parsimonious way of looking at the evidence and require us to imagine ad hoc, "what if" style suppositions to keep them from collapsing.

Ways Atheists (Sometimes) Get History Wrong

Managing this process of systematic historical analysis requires training, practice and a degree of skill. Without these, it's very easy to do something that looks a bit like historical analysis and arrive at flawed conclusions.

Take the initial heuristic process, for example. I've come across many atheists who don't accept that a historical Jesus existed on the grounds that "there are no contemporary references to him and all references to him are later hearsay" or even that "there are no eyewitness accounts of his career". So they rule out any evidence we do have referring to him on the basis that it is not contemporary and/or from eyewitnesses. But if we ruled out any reference to an ancient, medieval or pre-modern person or event on these grounds, we'd effectively have to abandon the study of early history: we don't have contemporary evidence for most people and events in the ancient world, so this would make almost all of our sources invalid, which is clearly absurd. Given that we have no eyewitness or contemporary sources for far more prominent figures, such as Hannibal, expecting them for a peasant preacher like Jesus is clearly ridiculous. No historian of the ancient world would regard this as a valid historical heuristic.

Atheists can often make similar elementary errors in the criticism of sources as well. There is no shortage of lurid material on the horrors of the Inquisition, with whole books detailing vile tortures and giving accounts of hundreds of thousands of wretched victims being consigned to the flames by the Catholic Church. In the past, nineteenth century writers took these sources at face value and until the early twentieth century this was essentially the story of the Inquisition to be found in textbooks, especially in the English-speaking (i.e. substantially Protestant) sphere.

But much of this was based on sources that had severe biases - mainly sixteenth and seventeenth century Protestant polemical material, usually produced in England which, as a political, religious and economic enemy of Spain, was hardly going to produce unbiased accounts of the Spanish church and crown's use of the Inquisition. Uncritical use of this material gives a warped, enemy's-eye-view of the Inquisition that has been substantially overturned by more careful analysis of the source material and the Inquisition's own records. The result is that it is now known that in the 160 years of its operation in Spain, the Inquisition resulted in 3,000-5,000 executions, not the hundreds of thousands alleged by uncritical nineteenth century writers like Henry Charles Lea. Basing an argument on the earlier, uncritical accounts of the Inquisition might suit many atheists' agendas, but it would be bad history nonetheless.

Finally, historical synthesis and exposition requires at least an attempt at a high degree of objectivity. An analyst of the past may have personal beliefs with the potential to bias their analysis and incline them towards certain conclusions. Worse, these beliefs could make them begin with assumptions about the past and so make them select only the evidence that supports this a priori idea. Historians strive to avoid both and examine the evidence on its merits, though polemicists often don't bother with this objective approach. All too often many atheists can be polemicists when dealing with the past, only crediting information or analysis that fits an argument against religion they are trying to make while downplaying, dismissing or ignoring evidence or analysis that does not fit their agenda. Again, this is bad history and rarely serves any function other than preaching to the converted.

So, for example, until the early twentieth century the history of science was popularly seen as a centuries-long conflict between forward thinking scientific minds trying to advance knowledge and human progress but constantly being persecuted and suppressed by retrograde religious forces determined to retard scientific progress. Again, in the mid-twentieth century historians of science reassessed this general idea and rejected what is now referred to as the "Conflict Thesis", presenting a far more complex, nuanced and well-founded analysis of the development of science that shows that while there were occasional conflicts, which were rarely as simple as "science versus religion", religion was usually neutral on the rational analysis of the physical world and often actively supportive of it. Overt conflicts, such as the Galileo Affair, were exceptions rather than the rule and, in that case as in many others, more complicated than simply “religion” repressing “science”.

Objectivity, Bias and Historical Fables

We atheists and freethinkers regularly deride believers for their irrational thinking, lack of critical analysis and tendency to cling to ideas out of faith even when confronted by contrary evidence. Unfortunately, it’s a lot easier to talk about being rational, and criticise others for not being so, than it is to practice what we preach. Everyone has their biases and “confirmation bias” - the tendency to favour information that confirms our prior beliefs - is an innate psychological propensity that is hard to counter even when we are aware of it. This means that atheists can, in many cases, be as bad as believers in accepting appealing ideas without checking their facts, holding to common misconceptions in the face of contrary evidence and liking neat, simple stories over messy, complex and more detailed alternatives that happen to be more solidly supported by the evidence.

The idea that the medieval Church taught the earth was flat, that Columbus bravely defied their primitive Biblical superstition and proved they were wrong by sailing to America is a great story. Unfortunately, it’s historical nonsense – a fable with zero basis in reality. It’s bad enough that I have had the experience of intelligent and educated atheists repeating this story as an example of the Church holding back progress without bothering to check if it’s true. What’s worse is that I have also experienced atheists who have been shown extensive, clear evidence that the medieval Church taught the earth was round and that the myth of medieval Flat Earth belief was invented by the novelist Washington Irving in 1828, and they have simply refused to believe that the myth could be wrong.

Neat historical fables such as the ones about Christians burning down the Great Library of Alexandria (they didn’t) or murdering Hypatia because of their hatred of her learning and science (ditto) are appealing parables. Which means some atheists fight tooth and nail to preserve them even when confronted with clear evidence that they are pseudo historical fairy tales. Fundamentalists aren’t the only ones who can be dogmatic about their myths.

One of the main reasons for studying history is to get a better understanding of why things today are as they are by grasping what has gone before. But it only works with a good grasp of how we can know about the past, the methods of analysis used and the relevant material our understanding should be based on. It also only works if we strive to put aside what we may like to be true along with any preconceptions (since they are often wrong) and look at the material objectively. Atheists who attempt to use history in their arguments who don’t do these things can not only end up getting things badly wrong, but can also wind up looking as stupid or even as dogmatic as fundamentalists. And that’s not a good look.

Tim O’Neill writes historical book reviews on the Armarium Magnum blog and is a regular contributor to online fora on ancient and medieval history, atheism and the history of religion. He is a subscribing member of the Atheist Foundation of Australia and a former state president of the Australian Skeptics.

Lingering Questions

“God of the gaps” is a type of theological perspective in which gaps in scientific knowledge are taken to be evidence or proof of God's existence. (from Wikipedia) History has shown us that many gaps can and have been filled as scientific knowledge grows. So much so, in fact, that it is perfectly reasonable to assume that there is a natural explanation for our remaining gaps. Theists tend not to come to this conclusion, for obvious reasons, but I wonder how long this conclusion may be avoided. I wonder how much longer this theological perspective will have any semblance of relevancy.

The best example of a closed gap is Darwin’s shutdown of the argument from design. Of course, I realize there are still fringe individuals and backward denominations that dismiss evolution as a valid explainer of the world’s biological complexity, but if the slow-to-come-around Catholic Church is on board, it’s safe to say that the others are simply in denial. From most of my interactions with honest theists, their main beef with “evolution” is that it is incomplete--meaning that it doesn’t take into account life’s ultimate origin. We should recognize this for what it is: a misunderstanding of the Theory of Evolution’s scope, a moving of the goal post from the argument of design to entirely different argument, and a detour from a closed gap to another open gap.

via the great Jesus and Mo

Darwin closing one of the biggest gaps unintentionally converted many theists across the world. Atheist favorite, Richard Dawkins, wrote that he would still be swayed by life’s apparent design if not for the Theory of Evolution. However, explaining the complexity of life doesn’t explain the existence of life. Our biological origin is still an open gap. Science calls it abiogenesis. We have some ideas how it could have happened, but no reproducible experiments to prove which hypothesis is correct. Like the other gap of note, the ultimate origin of the universe, we are unsure. Whether you’re in the quantum foam, the violation of causality camp, or any of the other camps that could all be possible from what we see at the quantum level, there’s no smoking gun...yet.

My question to theists is this: would settling your lingering questions finally allow you to let go of God? Humanity is crazy smart. I used to think some answers would be forever beyond our grasp, but now that I have a clearer sense of where science is going, I wouldn’t take anything off the table. My advice? Don’t take atheism off the table. It’s already the most reasonable worldview, and it’s getting more reasonable everyday.

The Truth Is Out There, We Just Can't Reach It

I used to debate theists on the merits of evolution, the origins of the universe, and the foundations of morality. I never thought I’d say it, but those were the good ol’ days. I’ve had seven of my last ten apologetic opponents throw literally everything into question as soon as they realized they weren’t debating a newb. It's finally happened. They've come to the conclusion that there’s only one defensive strategy when the entirety of human knowledge is mounting against their belief: to throw human knowledge under the bus.

Epistemology (\i-ˌpis-tə-ˈmä-lə-jē\) is the study of the nature and grounds of knowledge especially with reference to its limits and validity. Apologists have their own theory on the validity of knowledge--that is, knowledge is only valid when grounded in the divine. There is no truth, only Truth. The capital “T” relates the word to the imaginary and changes the definition to the less accepted yet, in their minds, more accurate attribute and/or synonym of God.

The apologist is applying the philosophical argument that objective truth is impossible to determine to the naturalistic worldview. This speaks to my aversion to pointless philosophy, and yet, I must admit, I can’t refute their claim. When I take into account thought experiments in which our reality could be an elaborate holographic simulation or our brains could be drugged and electrically stimulated to perceive things that are false, I intellectually have no choice but to accept that any objective truth is out of my jurisdiction. Where the apologist goes wrong is their claim of exception.

Any philosophical argument for why I can’t know what I believe can also be applied to Catholics, Fundamentalists, Mormons, Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Taoists, Scientologists, Buddhists, Pagans, Occultists, Rastafarians, whatever. In a naturalistic framework, we are all in the same uncertain boat. Claiming divine revelation of capital “T” Truth isn’t an argument based on reason or logic, it’s a claim of exception based on probable myth--which tends to be unconvincing to those who actually value reason and logic. Moreover, believers face further uncertainty simply by subscribing to a supernatural worldview. Sure, their brains could be in something as pedestrian as vats, but also could their brains be telepathically manipulated by any number of magical entities (gods included,) forever beyond our ability to quantify. For the supernaturalist, all bets are off, giving any epistemological high ground to the naturalist.

While I can’t deny philosophical uncertainty, I see no reason to apply it. Absolute truth is beyond our grasp, fine. Then there’s no point in trying to grasp it. I’m pragmatic. If something looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck--that’s good enough for me. It’s a duck--especially if others agree. There is something to be said for consensus reality. Essential truth is what we can ascertain about our consensus reality, and science is the most objective method to ascertaining this truth. When I say something is true, I mean it is the best, most objective data available. It’s not capital “T” Truth, but then nothing is.

An Open Letter to Theists

Theists, we need to talk. I know your kneejerk reaction toward this blog and myself is dismissal. I do, after all, regularly attempt to disprove your one true God, but the fact that I just used the phrasing “attempt to” should be seen as an olive branch. I know I’m not always right, but I’m pretty damn sure the following is in all of our best interest. Please, humor me.

I’m prepared to let you keep on believing what you believe without constant badgering...as long as you try to understand. I don’t mean understand me, or understand atheists, I mean understand in general. You believe God created life, the universe and everything--fine, just don’t stop there. Try to understand how God did it. Supernatural explanations are dead ends in knowledge and poison to curiosity  As a member of humanity, you belong to an enormous team who has never given up searching for answers even when a wall is hit. Walls are temporary. We learned how cells work, but, wanting to learn more, we looked deeper. We found atoms and still strive to understand further. The discovery of protons, neutrons and electrons allowed for us to make our life and the life of others easier through invention and innovation, so it stood to reason that more could be gained by looking deeper. We did and continue to do so. Saying that Thor or Zeus brings the lightning is an explanation of sorts, but it wasn’t until we attempted to know how Thor brought it did we understand that lightning had a completely natural explanation. Consider that abiogenesis, the ultimate origin of the universe, and other gaps in the knowledge that divides us might have a natural explanation as well.

Einstein said “I want to know God's thoughts; the rest are details.” Do that! Seek to learn the mind of God by accepting science, learning it, and doing some of your own. It’s not playing God to be master of the reality He made us to have dominion over, if in fact He did. Maybe what you learn will shake the foundations of your prior beliefs or maybe it will reinforce them. Either way, you’ll be closer to the truth you claim to seek. The secular don't tend to believe that claim, let's say you prove it.

I Don't Know

“I don’t know.” I grew up thinking this statement was a sign of weakness. My father set the early goal of making me a leader--with middling results--by establishing tenets drawn from self-help books and cliches such as “never let them see you sweat” and “shoot first, ask questions later.” His uncharacteristically geeky role-model, Captain Kirk, always had the answers even when the situation was completely unknown. While this worked out for the main character of a successful television show, but in the real world the “no-win-scenario” actually isn’t winable and some questions just don’t have accessible answers.

I eventually dropped Kirk as my inherited role-model for the more analytical Batman. This was partly because Bats was way cooler and partly because I didn’t want to end up as an away team red shirt. Bruce Wayne’s alter ego is considered “the world’s greatest detective” and is an accomplished scientist in many fields. (For the purposes of this argument, please familiarize yourself with the Batman of the comic books. I recommend Grant Morrison’s JLA or Batman: Hush. Christian Bale’s depiction was great and all, but he wasn’t the hero we deserved.) Among nerd conficts of superheroics, it is accepted that, given enough intel and perparation time, Batman could beat anyone. Seriously, Superman, Thor, Yahweh, anyone! I consider him a posterchild for the importance of knowledge.

via AmazingSuperpowers.com

Religion has proven itself a source for answers throughout history--and history has proven religion’s answers false at nearly every turn. Yet people still hang on to the few answers that religion holds over the growing wealth of verified human knowledge. Abiogenesis, pre-Big Bang and post-death happenings, and existential meaning are all supposedly answered by invoking a single word, “God.”  That kind of baseless research tells us nothing. We should instead sit at our Bat-computers, gather information, study, learn, and contribute to knowledge. If that all fails, we need to accept what theists and Kirk don’t understand--that “I don’t know” has value. The value is honesty.

What The Hell Am I?

Do you believe in God? It should be a binary, yes or no answer. It is a very simple, yet very big question and the answer defines you in an important way. How you view the world and live your life is likely contingent on your answer.

But there’s a problem. I don’t know if it’s the shifting political correctness of our culture, or just opposing viewpoints projecting their beliefs onto others, but the question has become muddled. Let me help you answer once and for all, are you an atheist, theist, agnostic...what?

This handy question tree should allow even the most inept call centers to ascertain your position. It’s important to note that “Do you believe in God?” is an opinion question. Whether your answer is yes or no, you need not worry about showing your work. You are essentially guessing. Evidence and arguments built on sound reasoning could provide for an educated guess, but a guess none-the-less. People who have dwelled on the topic of theology all their life and those who have just been introduced to the concept of God have equal rights to their opinion. However, if you have no opinion at all, you are an apatheist. This means you don’t care about one of the biggest questions humanity has ever posed and likely live your life as an atheist by default.

From your yes or no response, we come to a question of knowledge. Are you sure that God does or does not exist? Are you 100% positive? This is a hard position to defend no matter which side of the issue you’re on. Generally, theists claim gnostism because their belief system requires absolute faith for the eventual reward. It is my opinion that if you claim certain knowledge, you are mistaken. We are all agnostic, even if we are right, because the question of God as he is typically defined, is unknowable.

Famous agnostic atheist, Richard Dawkins, has his own scale of belief. 1 is a gnostic theist. 2 and 3 are different levels of agnostic theism. 5 and 6 are both agnostic atheists. 7 is the gnostic atheist. The new bit is number 4, the pure agnostic. This is someone who thinks it is just as likely that a higher power exists as not. I’m not sure how you come to such an exact conclusion, but I accept that some might be able to nail down their own belief better than I.

The final way to look at belief is a sliding scale of probability. There are few black and whites in the universe, so the possibility of a creator should allow for shades of grey as well. If you think that it is more than 50% likely that God is up there, you are a theist. Less? You’re an atheist. Exactly halfsies on the issue? That makes you the elusive pure agnostic. Measuring your belief isn’t an exact science, so we are guesstimating here.

Note: Each of these questions and scales may be applied to a vague concept of god or specific definitions of the deity such as Yahweh, Vishnu, Zeus...whoever. For instance, I’m 85% sure that there is no intelligent creator of the universe, but 99.9% sure that Zeus is imaginary. (I just can’t commit to that last 0.1%) While I don’t think one can be gnostic of the concept of god, you can be gnostic of specific Gods if you can prove or disprove their existence.

Some choose to not answer the question of belief for the vague concept of god. If this choice isn’t made out of apathy, they are likely ignostic--thinking a clearer definition is necessary to confess belief.