Please use this thread to discuss Massimo Pigliucci's July, 2005 Rationally Speaking article entitled, "OK! I changed my mind (three times!)"As regular readers of this column know, I occasionally try to debunk the myth that skeptics are just a bunch of curmudgeons and naysayers, people who have a strong psychological need to feel superior and always right. As a small contribution to this demystification, let me tell you about not one, not two, but three (!!) instances in which I changed my mind about issues of concern to freethinkers and skeptics, and in the process try to learn when it is in fact reasonable to change opinion.The first example is the most important from the point of view of my personal philosophy, and in fact it does concern an apparently subtle -- yet crucial -- philosophical point. A few years ago, the National Association of Biology Teachers changed their definition of "evolution" in a way that avoided any reference to the absence of undirected causes guiding natural selection. The change was prompted by complaints by prominent theologians, such as Alvin Plantinga, but was also endorsed by secular scientists such as National Center for Science Education's Eugenie Scott. I was outraged, and wrote a scathing letter to the NABT (and to Scott, I didn't bother writing to Plantinga), to the effect that this was setting a worrisome precedent of an educational organization caving in to religious pressure. My friend Genie Scott tried to explain to me that the change in wording was based on the distinction between philosophical and methodological naturalism. Naturalism is the position that the world can be understood in natural (as opposed to supernatural) terms, and has become a focus for the wrath of creationists, which accuse scientists of attempting to sneak atheism into public education. But this accusation confuses the two forms of naturalism: a philosophical naturalist is, indeed, an atheist (or other non-religious individual), because that person has concluded (often based on reasoning informed by science) that there is, in fact, no such thing as the supernatural. Science does not need to make that bold philosophical claim, because it has the option of adopting methodological naturalism, i.e. a provisional and pragmatic position that all we need in order to understand reality is natural laws and phenomena. The supernatural may exist, but it does not necessary for explanatory purposes. The beauty of this distinction is that it shields science from the creationist accusation of being just another religion. Ironically, one can easily show that most human beings, most of the times, behave as methodological naturalists, including creationists! Say, for example, that your car doesn't want to start this morning. What do you do? You will likely not pray or ask your preacher, you will go to a mechanic. That is, you are assuming that there must be a natural explanation for the break down. Moreover, even if the mechanic will not be able to identify the problem and solve it, you will go and buy a new car with the conviction that there must have been a logical explanation for the break down, but that insufficient data were available to both you and your mechanic to pinpoint the problem. That is exactly the way science works, and it's a beauty.At the time of the NABT controversy I thought that invoking the distinction between philosophical and methodological naturalism was a cop out, and I rebelled against it. Some of my colleagues, most notably Richard Dawkins, still think that way (he often refers to situations like these as instances of "intellectual bankruptcy"), but I have changed my mind. While I still think the NABT should have considered the matter independently of the interference of theologians (at least part of the motivation for the change was pragmatic, not philosophical), I owe an apology to my friend Genie: she was right, I was wrong. Of course, I am both a methodological and a philosophical naturalist, and I do see a logical connection between the two. But such connection is neither necessary nor a result of scientific evidence (pace Dawkins).The second instance I wish to discuss also relates to the never-ending battle against creationism. When I first got involved in it, soon after having moved to the University of Tennessee (near the site of the infamous Scopes trial) in 1996, I began debating creationists in public. I have since done several debates against most of the major figures of that bizarre cultural movement (including Duane Gish, Ken Hovind, Jonathan Wells, and William Dembski, to name a few). But the number of debates I have engaged in has diminished to a trickle over the years, reflecting a change of heart I have had about the whole approach. Once again, Genie Scott was right (and, this time, on the same side of Dawkins!): debating head-to-head against creationists is a bad idea because most debate formats favor sound bites, and sound bites are easier and more effective for people who wish to attack science than for those who want to defend it. It is relatively easy to throw hundreds of apparently damning questions to a scientist in the span of a few minutes; it is very difficult for a scientist to seriously address even a few of those or, more importantly, to explain to the public how science really works (as opposed to the caricature presented by creationists). This is not to say that scientists shouldn't be engaged in the public arena to counter creationist claims; indeed, even Scott agrees that some public forums are acceptable for two-way encounters (usually media appearances with a truly neutral host and a conversational, rather than confrontational style). But the best strategy we have is to talk to the public directly, on our terms, and using the arsenal of tools available to science educators. So, please, don't call me again for future debates, OK?Lastly, let's talk about this "Brights" thing. As some readers may know, the Brights are a recently emerged movement within the general area of freethought. Brights decided to call themselves that way because they (rightly) realized that most other terms (e.g., atheist, skeptic, etc.) tend to carry negative connotations that contribute to stigmatize non religious people and justify discrimination against them. So, the proponents of the Brights movement said, why not emulate the success of the Gay community and use a positive word to describe who we are? The initial response from many authors (including myself, in an earlier Rationally Speaking column) was very positive, even enthusiastic in the case of Dan Dennett and Richard Dawkins. The problem, of course, was pointed out immediately, and even the brave proponents of the Brights movement themselves acknowledged it and wrestled with it: going around affirming one's "Brightness" (even capitalized, as a noun, rather than in small letters, as an adjective) isn't exactly the best way to diffuse the image of intellectual snobbery that afflicts skeptics and freethinkers (the latter being another word of questionable usefulness in this context). Indeed, I have never actually introduced myself as a Bright to anybody. Therefore, while I wish the Brights the best future I can imagine, I'm no longer sure it was such a bright idea.These three instances show not just that skeptics can and in fact do change their mind about issues. More importantly, it shows that such changes occur after careful consideration of arguments (and, where appropriate, empirical evidence). Changing one's mind is not a virtue in and of itself, because it can happen for very bad, or at least superficial, reasons. As Carl Sagan once put it, be careful not to be so open minded that your brain falls off! On the other hand, maintaining a position for the sake of consistency, or out of sheer stubbornness, negates the very essence of what David Hume called "positive skepticism." One last warning: I am open to change my mind again on any of the three issues discussed above, should new good arguments or evidence come my way...

Changing one's mind is not just a woman's prerogative. We're happy to share. The only difference is that men change their minds from what they think is a rational, thought-out carefully considered stance. Women change their minds because of a gut feeling. Or just because they want to.Marti in Mexico

Chris makes a good point about the difference between methodological and philisophical naturalism.A philosophical naturalist seems to me to be someone who says this is all we know about the world so this is all there is to know about the world. Which to me sounds like a deaf person denying the existence of music.A deaf methodological naturalist would simply say the existence of music is something that I am not equipped to comment on.Given that the sum of human knowledge is as but a grain of sand compared to a beach in comparison to human ignorance, I think at least that religious people tend to have the advantage of having the right attitude to life, wonder, humility and gratitude.

Quote:Chris makes a good point about the difference between methodological and philisophical naturalism.Although I'd love to take credit for that point, it is actually Massimo Pigliucci that wrote that article.Chris

ChrisThe difference between aetheism and Christianity seems to me to be that one system insists that everything humans can possibly know about the universe is already known, whilst the other insists that everything that is known about the world at this point in time is all that there is to know.I saw something on cable once in which a Taoist master was asked, "what happens when you die?" The master replied, after a long pause, "I don't know" The flummoxed interviewer responded, "But you are a great Taoist Master". The Taoist paused once again before explaining, "Yes, but not a dead one".I now list my religion on offical forms as, Idon'tknowism.

I've read that methodological naturalism was promoted in the late 1500s in England, promoted by Queen Elizabeth I, and that it was the means intended to allow scientists more open space for their work amid a culture of sensitive heresy laws. Sorry I don't remember the source so my details may be sketchy. Funny that it is still needed as a distinction for the same purpose today. (although I agree with the distinction and it should be kept in mind--it's just funny to think of it as "needed" today)On philosphical naturalism -- while it is true that a philosophical naturalist is atheist/nonreligious, it should be noted that a non-philosophical-naturalist may also be atheist/nonreligious. My example is the excellent case of Robert Stalnaker (philosophy of language) and his argument for possible-worlds semantics entailing the acknowledgment of a "true reality" that does "not actually exist" in the natural world. The true reality he talks about is the abstract object(s) entailed in every "possible world" -- and by extension certainly any "abstract object" would obtain of that status of "real" though not "actual." Note: "real" vs. "actual" is epistemological distinction -- so an abstract object is *epistemologically* just as "real" as a natural object; but is not "actual" the way a natural object is actual. (I think you have to read Stalnaker for this to really make sense) This is not a metaphysical distinction -- i.e., Stalnaker was not saying abstract objects are *metaphysically* just as real as natural objects. [REFERENCES: Stalnaker, Robert C. "Possible Worlds". Philosophy As It Is. Eds. Ted Honderich and Myles Burnyeat. London: Penguin, 1979: 447