Anthony Flood
August 31, 2009
Firing an Unloaded
Gun: Bertrand Russell on Christianity
Greg L. Bahnsen
An excellent opportunity to practice
our defense of the Christian faith is provided by one of the most
noteworthy British philosophers of the twentieth century: Bertrand
Russell. Russell has offered us a clear and pointed example of an
intellectual challenge to the truthfulness of the Christian faith by
writing an article which specifically aimed to show that Christianity
should not be believed. The title of his famous essay was “Why I Am Not
a Christian.”1 Bertrand Russell (1872-1970) studied
mathematics and philosophy at Cambridge University and began his
teaching career there. He wrote respected works as a philosopher (about
Leibniz, about the philosophy of mathematics and set theory, about the
metaphysics of mind and matter, about epistemological problems) and was
influential on twentieth-century developments in the philosophy of
language. He also wrote extensively in a more popular vein on
literature, education and politics. Controversy surrounded him. He was
dismissed by Trinity College for pacifist activities in 1916; he was
jailed in 1961 in connection with a campaign for nuclear disarmament.
His views on sexual morality contributed to the annulment of his
appointment to teach at the City University of New York in 1940. Yet
Russell was highly regarded as a scholar. In 1944 he returned to teach
at Cambridge, and in 1950 he became a recipient of the Nobel Prize for
Literature.
For all his stature as a
philosopher, Russell cannot be said to have been sure of himself and
consistent in his views regarding reality or knowledge. In his early
years he adopted the Hegelian idealism taught by F. H. Bradley.
Influenced by G. E. Moore, he changed to a Platonic theory of ideas.
Challenged by Ludwig Wittgenstein that mathematics consists merely of
tautologies, he turned to metaphysical and linguistic atomism. He
adopted the extreme realism of Alexius Meinong, only later to turn
toward logical constructionism instead. Then following the lead of
William James, Russell abandoned mind-matter dualism for the theory of
neutral monism. Eventually Russell propounded materialism with fervor,
even though his dissatisfaction with his earlier logical atomism left
him without an alternative metaphysical account of the object of our
empirical experiences. Struggling with philosophical problems not unlike
those which stymied David Hume, Russell conceded in his later years that
the quest for certainty is a failure.
This brief history of Russell’s
philosophical evolution is rehearsed so that the reader may correctly
appraise the strength and authority of the intellectual platform from
which Russell would presume to criticize the Christian faith. Russell’s
brilliance is not in doubt; he was a talented and intelligent man. But
to what avail? In criticizing Christians for their views of ultimate
reality, of how we know what we know, and of how we should live our
lives, did Bertrand Russell have a defensible alternative from which to
launch his attacks? Not at all. He could not give an account of reality
and knowing which—on the grounds of, and according to the criteria of,
his own autonomous reasoning—was cogent, reasonable and sure. He could
not say with certainty what was true about reality and knowledge, but
nevertheless he was firmly convinced that Christianity was false!
Russell was firing an unloaded gun.
Bertrand Russell made no secret of
the fact that he intellectually and personally disdained religion in
general, and Christianity in particular. In the preface to the book of
his critical essays on the subject of religion he wrote: “I am as firmly
convinced that religions do harm as I am that they are untrue.”3
He repeatedly charges in one way or another that a free man who
exercises his reasoning ability cannot submit to religious dogma. He
argued that religion was a hindrance to the advance of civilization,
that it cannot cure our troubles, and that we do not survive death.
We are treated to a defiant
expression of metaphysical materialism—perhaps Russell’s most notorious
essay for a popular reading audience—in the article (first published in
1903) entitled “A Free Man’s Worship.” He there concluded: “Brief and
powerless is man’s life; on him and all his race the slow, sure doom
falls pitiless and dark. Blind to good and evil, reckless of
destruction, omnipotent matter rolls on its relentless way.” In the face
of this nihilism and ethical subjectivism, Russell nevertheless called
men to the invigoration of the free man’s worship: “to worship at the
shrine that his own hands have built; undismayed by the empire of chance
. . . .”3
Hopefully the brazen contradiction
in Russell’s philosophy of life is already apparent to the reader. He
asserts that our ideals and values are not objective and supported by
the nature of reality, indeed that they are fleeting and doomed to
destruction. On the other hand, quite contrary to this, Russell
encourages us to assert our autonomous values in the face of a valueless
universe—to act as though they really amounted to something worthwhile,
were rational, and not merely the result of chance. But after all, what
sense could Russell hope to make of an
immaterial value (an ideal) in the face of an “omnipotent
matter” which is blind to values? Russell only succeeded in shooting
himself in the foot.
The essay “Why I Am Not a Christian”
is the text of a lecture which Russell delivered to the National Secular
Society in London on March 6, 1927. It is only fair to recognize, as
Russell commented, that constraints of time prevented him from going
into great detail or saying as much as he might like about the matters
which he raises in the lecture. Nevertheless, he says quite enough with
which to find fault.
In broad terms, Russell argued that
he could not be a Christian because:
(1) the Roman Catholic church is mistaken to say that the existence of
God can be proved by unaided reason;
(2) serious defects in the character and teaching of Jesus show that he
was not the best and wisest of men, but actually morally inferior to
Buddha and Socrates;
(3) people accept religion on emotional grounds, particularly on the
foundation of fear, which is “not worthy of self-respecting human
beings”; and
(4) the Christian religion “has been and still is the principal enemy of
moral progress in the world.”
What is outstanding about this
litany of complaints against Christianity is Russell’s arbitrariness and
inconsistency. The second reason offered above presupposes some absolute
standard of moral wisdom by which somebody could grade Jesus as either
inferior or superior to others. Likewise, the third reason presupposes a
fixed criterion for what is, and what is not, “worthy” of
self-respecting human beings. Then again, the complaint expressed in the
fourth reason would not make any sense unless it is objectively wrong to
be an enemy of “moral progress”; indeed, the very notion of moral
“progress” itself assumes an established benchmark for morality by which
to assess progress.
Now, if Russell had been reasoning
and speaking in terms of the Christian worldview, his attempt to assess
moral wisdom, human worthiness, and moral progress—as well as to
adversely judge shortcomings in these matters—would be understandable
and expected. Christians have a universal, objective and absolute
standard of morality in the revealed word of God. But obviously Russell
did not mean to be speaking as though he adopted Christian premises and
perspectives! On what basis, then, could Russell issue his moral
evaluations and judgments? In terms of what view of reality and
knowledge did he assume that there was anything like an objective
criterion of morality by which to find Christ, Christians, and the
church lacking?
Russell was embarrassingly arbitrary
in this regard. He just took it for granted, as an unargued
philosophical bias, that there was a moral standard to apply, and that
he could presume to be the spokesman and judge who applies it. One could
easily counter Russell by simply saying that he had arbitrarily chosen
the wrong standard of morality. To be fair, Russell’s opponents must be
granted just as much arbitrariness in choosing a moral standard, and
they may then select one different from his own. And there goes his
argument down in defeat.
By assuming the prerogative to pass
moral judgment, Russell evidenced that his own presuppositions fail to
comport with each other. In offering a condemning value-judgment against
Christianity, Russell engaged in behavior which betrayed his professed
beliefs elsewhere. In his lecture Russell professed that this was a
chance world which shows no evidence of design, and where “laws” are
nothing more than statistical averages describing what has happened. He
professed that the physical world may have always existed, and that
human life and intelligence came about in the way explained by Darwin
(evolutionary natural selection). Our values and hopes are what “our
intelligence can create.” The fact remains that, according to “the
ordinary laws of science, you have to suppose that human life . . . on
this planet will die out in due course.”
This is simply to say that human
values are subjective, fleeting, and self-created. In short, they are
relative. Holding to this kind of view of moral values, Russell was
utterly inconsistent in acting as though he could assume an altogether
different kind of view of values, declaring an absolute moral evaluation
of Christ or Christians. One aspect of Russell’s network of beliefs
rendered another aspect of his set of beliefs unintelligible.
The same kind of inner tension
within Russell’s beliefs is evident above in what he had to say about
the “laws” of science. On the one hand such laws are merely descriptions
of what has happened in the past, says Russell. On the other hand,
Russell spoke of the laws of science as providing a basis for projecting
what will happen in the future, namely the decay of the solar system.
This kind of dialectical dance between conflicting views of scientific
law (to speak epistemologically) or between conflicting views of the
nature of the physical cosmos (to speak metaphysically) is
characteristic of unbelieving thought. Such thinking is not in harmony
with itself and is thus irrational.
In the first reason given by Russell
for why he was not a Christian, he alluded to the dogma of the Roman
Catholic church that “the existence of God can be proved by the unaided
reason.”4 He then turns to some of the more popular arguments
advanced for the existence of God which are (supposedly) based upon this
“unaided reason” and easily finds them wanting. It goes without saying,
of course, that Russell thought that he was defeating these arguments of
unaided reason by means of his own (superior) unaided reason. Russell
did not disagree with Rome that man can prove things with his “natural
reason” (apart from the supernatural work of grace). Indeed, at the end
of his lecture he called his hearers to “a fearless outlook and a free
intelligence.” Russell simply disagreed that unaided reason takes one to
God. In different ways, and with different final conclusions, both the
Roman church and Russell encouraged men to exercise their reasoning
ability autonomously—apart from the foundation and restraints of divine
revelation.
The Christian apologist should not
fail to expose this commitment to “unaided reason” for the
unargued philosophical bias that it
is. Throughout his lecture Russell simply takes it for granted that
autonomous reason enables man to know things. He speaks freely of his
“knowledge of what atoms actually do,” of what “science can teach us,”
and of “certain quite definite fallacies” committed in Christian
arguments, etc. But this simply will not do. As the philosopher, Russell
here gave himself a free ride; he hypocritically failed to be as
self-critical in his reasoning as he beseeched others to be with
themselves.
The nagging problem which Russell
simply did not face is that, on the basis of autonomous reasoning, man
cannot give an adequate and rational account of the knowledge we gain
through science and logic. Scientific procedure assumes that the natural
world operates in a uniform fashion, in which case our observational
knowledge of past cases provides a basis for predicting what will happen
in future cases. However, autonomous reason has no basis whatsoever for
believing that the natural world will operate in a uniform fashion.
Russell himself (at times) asserted that this is a chance universe. He
could never reconcile this view of nature being random with his view
that nature is uniform (so that “science” can teach us).
So it is with a knowledge and use of
the laws of logic (in terms of which Russell definitely insisted that
fallacies be avoided). The laws of logic are not physical objects in the
natural world; they are not observed by man’s senses. Moreover, the laws
of logic are universal and unchanging—or else they reduce to
relativistic preferences for thinking, rather than prescriptive
requirements. However, Russell’s autonomous reasoning could not explain
or justify these characteristics of logical laws. An individual’s
unaided reason is limited in the scope of its use and experiences, in
which case it cannot pronounce on what is universally true
(descriptively). On the other hand, an individual’s unaided reason is in
no position to dictate (prescriptively) universal laws of thought or to
assure us that these stipulations for the mind will somehow prove
applicable to the world of thought or matter outside the individual’s
mind.5
Russell’s worldview, even apart from
its internal tensions, could not provide a foundation for the
intelligibility of science or logic. His “unaided” reason could not
account for the knowledge which men readily gain in God’s universe, a
universe sovereignly controlled (so that it is uniform) and interpreted
in light of the Creator’s revealed mind (so that there are immaterial
laws of thought which are universal).
We must note, finally, that
Russell’s case against being a Christian is subject to criticism for its
reliance upon prejudicial conjecture and logical fallacies. That being
the case, he cannot be thought to have established his conclusions or
given good reason for his rejection of Christianity.
One stands in amazement, for
instance, that the same Russell who could lavish ridicule upon past
Christians for their ignorance and lack of scholarship, could come out
and say something as uneducated and inaccurate as this: “Historically it
is quite doubtful whether Christ ever existed at all, and if He did we
do not know anything about Him.” Even forgetting secular references to
Christ in the ancient world, Russell’s remark simply ignores the
documents of the New Testament as early and authentic witnesses to the
historical person of Jesus. Given the relatively early dates of these
documents and the relatively large number of them, if Russell “doubted”
the existence of Jesus Christ, he must have either applied a conspicuous
double standard in his historical reasoning, or been an agnostic about
virtually the whole of ancient history. Either way, we are given an
insight into the prejudicial nature of Russell’s thinking when it came
to consideration of the Christian religion.
Perhaps the most obvious logical
fallacy evident in Russell’s lecture comes out in the way he readily
shifts from an evaluation of Christian beliefs to a criticism of
Christian believers. And he should have known better. At the very
beginning of his lecture, Russell said, “I do not mean by a Christian
any person who tries to live decently and according to his lights. I
think that you must have a certain amount of definite belief before you
have a right to call yourself a Christian.” That is, the object of
Russell’s criticism should be, by his own testimony, not the lifestyle
of individuals but the doctrinal claims which are essential to
Christianity as a system of thought. The opening of his lecture focuses
upon his dissatisfaction with those beliefs (God’s existence,
immortality, Christ as the best of men).
Nevertheless, toward the end of his
lecture, Russell’s discussion turns in the direction of fallaciously
arguing against the personal defects of Christians (enforcing narrow
rules contrary to human happiness) and the supposed psychological
genesis of their beliefs (in emotion and fear). That is, he indulges in
the fallacy of arguing
ad hominem.
Even if what Russell had to say in these matters was fair-minded and
accurate (it is not), the fact would remain that Russell has descended
to the level of arguing against a truth-claim on the basis of his
personal dislike and psychologizing of those who personally profess that
claim. In other settings, Russell the philosopher would have been the
first to criticize a student for pulling such a thing. It is nothing
less than a shameful logical fallacy.
Notice briefly other defects in
Russell’s line of thinking here. He presumed to know the motivation of a
person in becoming a Christian—even though Russell’s epistemology gave
him no warrant for thinking he could discern such things (especially
easily and at a distance). Moreover, he presumed to know the motivation
of a whole class of people (including those who lived long ago), based
on a very, very small sampling from his own present experience. These
are little more than hasty and unfounded generalizations, telling us (if
anything) only about the state of Russell’s mind and feelings in his
obvious, emotional antipathy to Christians.
But then this leaves us face to face
with a final, devastating fallacy in Russell’s case against
Christianity—the use of double standards (and implicit special pleading)
in his reasoning. Russell wished to fault Christians for the emotional
factor in their faith-commitment, and yet Russell himself evidenced a
similarly emotional factor in his own personal anti-Christian
commitment. Indeed, Russell openly appealed to emotional feelings of
courage, pride, freedom and self-worth as a basis for his audience to
refrain from being Christians!
Similarly, Russell tried to take
Christians to task for their “wickedness” (as though there could be any
such thing within Russell’s worldview)—for their cruelty, wars,
inquisitions, etc. Russell did not pause for even a moment, however, to
reflect on the far-surpassing cruelty and violence of non-Christians
throughout history. Genghis Khan, Vlad the Impaler, Marquis de Sade and
a whole cast of other butchers were not known in history for their
Christian professions, after all! This is all conveniently swept under
the carpet in Russell’s hypocritical disdain for the moral errors of the
Christian church.
Russell’s essay “Why I Am Not a
Christian” reveals to us that even the intellectually elite of this
world are refuted by their own errors in opposing the truth of the
Christian faith. There is no credibility to a challenge to Christianity
which evidences prejudicial conjecture, logical fallacies, unargued
philosophical bias, behavior which betrays professed beliefs, and
presuppositions which do not comport with each other. Why wasn’t Russell
a Christian? Given his weak effort at criticism, one would have to
conclude that it was not for intellectual reasons.
Notes
1
The article is found in Bertrand Russell,
Why I Am Not a
Christian, And Other Essays on Religion and Related Subjects,
ed. Paul Edwards (New York: Simon and Schuster, Clarion, 1957), pp.
3-23.
2
Ibid.,
p. vi.
3
Ibid.,
pp. 115-16.
4
In his lecture Russell displays a curious and capricious shifting around
for the standard which defines the content of “Christian” beliefs. Here
he arbitrarily assumes that what the Roman magisterium says is the
standard of Christian faith. Yet in the paragraph immediately preceding,
Russell claimed that the doctrine of hell was not essential to Christian
belief because the Privy Council of the English Parliament had so
decreed (over the dissent of the Archbishops of Canterbury and York).
Elsewhere Russell departs from this criterion of Christianity and
excoriates the teaching of Jesus, based upon the Bible, that the
unrepentant face everlasting damnation. Russell had no interest in being
consistent or fair in dealing with Christianity as his opponent. When
convenient he defined the faith according to the Bible, but when it was
more convenient for his polemical purposes he shifted to defining the
faith according to the English Parliament or the Roman Catholic church.
5
Those familiar with Russell’s detailed (and noteworthy, seminal) work in
philosophy would point out that, despite his brilliance, Russell’s
“unaided reason” could never resolve certain semantic and logical
paradoxes which arise in his account of logic, mathematics and language.
His most reverent followers concede that Russell’s theories are subject
to criticism.
Greg L. Bahnsen Page