A Manual for Creating Atheists (15 page)

Stage 4: Accept or Revise Hypothesis

In stage 4, the hypothesis is either accepted as provisionally true, or it’s rejected. If it’s accepted as true then this ends the elenchus and immediately begins stage 5. If it’s rejected then another hypothesis is given and the elenchus begins again.

If the interlocutor cannot overcome the argument made in the elenchus, then she is forced to revise her hypothesis. In our present example, if she cannot rebut the claim that we could be the first intelligent life to have arisen, then she needs to revise the original hypothesis, which was, “Yes, there must be.” She could, for example, offer a new hypothesis, “Almost definitely,” or she could offer no new hypothesis and state that she no longer knows with certainty.

If the arguments that emerge from the elenchus cannot refute the hypothesis, then the hypothesis stands. It’s vital to reiterate that if the hypothesis stands this does
not
mean one has found eternal truth. This simply means the hypothesis is accepted as provisionally true.

Stage 5: Act Accordingly

As a consequence of the Socratic method, one would ideally act upon the results of one’s inquiry. Acting could be anything from changing one’s belief to taking a specific action. Stage 5 has less to do with the implementation of the method, and more to do with the consequences of one’s examination.

ACTUAL SOCRATIC INTERVENTIONS

I’ll now show how the stages of the Socratic method can come into play when administering Socratic treatments. I’ll examine actual conversations I’ve had with a broad spectrum of people in a wide variety of contexts and explain, statement by statement, techniques referenced in chapter 4. I’ve included a range of treatment outcomes, from immediately successful to completely unsuccessful.

I note the failures here because most interventions aimed at removing faith are not an initial success. Sometimes, even after years of treatment, the faith virus is not separated from its host. Initial, comprehensive success is rare. I conduct multiple Socratic interventions
daily
, and as much as I try to help people shed faith, very rarely has someone abandoned their faith on the spot. What is common—and promising—is that people experience glimpses of doxastic openness as a direct consequence of Socratic discourse. Some of these moments are captured in the conversations below. (Remember that the goal of each intervention is to move the subject one step along the transtheoretical model, for example, from precontemplative to contemplative, or from action to preparation.)

Finally, experiencing failures are important in your practice as a Street Epistemologist. There is perhaps more to learn from unsuccessful interventions than from successful ones—we learn from our failures, not from our successes. Some of the conversations detailed below may help to shed light on specific instances of doxastic closure, some may give readers insight into how they could improve upon and tailor the intervention given their particular skill set, and others still can be seen as a snippet in the context of long-term treatment.

Intervention 1: Doxastic Openness

I had the following late-night discussion with a young man (YM) at a local gym. I was on a treadmill when he began walking on the treadmill next to me. A few minutes later he asked me about my MMA (mixed martial arts) T-shirt. From there the conversation turned to superstition in the martial arts, to many popular but false beliefs, and ultimately to religion. About ten minutes into our discussion he told me Jesus Christ came into his life.

YM
: He [Jesus Christ] touched me. At that moment my life was forever changed.

This statement, “He touched me,” is the hypothesis. It is the statement I targeted for refutation. Note that at no point in this intervention do I deny the feelings he experienced. To do so would be counterproductive because we’re all infallible in terms of our tastes and feelings. What I target for refutation is the source or cause of these feelings and the resultant faith it engendered.

PB
: That’s really interesting. Can you tell me about that?

I asked this question for two reasons. Primarily, I needed to make sure I understood the
exact
nature of the claim. I was virtually certain I did understand, but needed to be positive. It’s a good idea to ask someone to repeat or restate their claim. In Covey’s
7 Habits of Highly Effective People
, this is habit 5, “Seek First to Understand Then to Be Understood” (Covey, 2004). Secondarily, I framed this in terms of a question because I wanted to make him more receptive to answering. I admitted my ignorance and asked him to help me understand. That is, I did not say, “Please tell me about that,” as this phrasing can be interpreted as a command with the word “please” stuck in front of it.

Framing questions this way makes people feel like they have the option to not answer. I’ve found subjects are usually more receptive to continuing treatment when questions are framed as just that—questions—and when you show your interest in a conversation by asking follow-up questions.

YM told me of his experiences, what he’d gone through in his life, and what he felt.

PB
: That’s really interesting. But I have a question. How do you know the thing you felt was caused by Jesus?

Four points to note: (1) Use of the passive voice doesn’t make Jesus the actor in the sentence as it would with the active voice, “How do you know Jesus caused the thing you felt?” If you construct your statement with the passive voice, the subject may be more likely to be open to alternative causes. (Active voice: Mary tuned a violin. Passive voice: A violin was tuned by Mary.) (2) Because this is a question, YM can give individual responses that can then be broken down and targeted for refutation. This is important because there may be specific moments in the intervention when the subject is too doxastically entrenched in a particular hypothesis. When this occurs, an alternative line of questioning may help advance the conversation. In other words, one may also find additional fertile ground for creating doxastic openness when the list of conversational topics expands. (3) I’ve found that questions, as opposed to statements, tend to be less threatening as people feel they have the freedom to answer as they like. For example, the declarative statement, “That wasn’t Jesus. That feeling was produced by the complex interplay of your own neurobiology and culture. Experiencing Jesus never happens to indigenous peoples who are cut off from the world. That alone should tell you you’re delusional,” does not act to increase the subject’s doxastic openness (Kim, 1979, p. 203), but rather furthers doxastic entrenchment by creating threatening or adversarial relationships. (4) This question resets the Socratic conversation, beginning again in wonder. YM would then offer a hypothesis that could be targeted.

YM basically went on to say he “just knew” it was Jesus and he felt it was true in his heart.

PB
: That’s interesting. But a lot of people feel some religious belief in their hearts, Buddhists, Muslims, Mormons, people who think the Emperor of Japan is divine. But they can’t all be correct. Right?

I specifically avoided the word “you.” For example, I did not say, “So how do you know your belief is true?” This can be threatening, as it may be perceived as creating an uncomfortable environment by placing the focus on the subject personally as opposed to the hypothesis. In discussions of faith in particular, it’s crucial the Socratic clinician differentiate between people and propositions (Boghossian, 2002a). Faith is a deeply personal experience for people, and the more faith as an epistemology can be separated from faith as an identity, the easier the transition from stage 3 (elenchus) to stage 5 (action). Cultivating togetherness and not stressing differences continues to move the conversation forward.

I was attempting to open YM up to alternative ways of conceptualizing his experience—providing a more objective way for him to view the cause of his feelings.

The conversation went back and forth a few times, with YM reiterating that he just felt it to be true.

PB
: So what do you think accounts for the fact that different people have religious experiences that they’re convinced are true?

Again, this is posed in terms of a question, resetting the Socratic method back to stage 1 (wonder). At this point rapport has been established and YM does not feel threatened (Clark, 1992; Horvath & Luborsky, 1993; Szimhart, 2009, p. 260). The use of the word “you” is again avoided, so as to allow the subject the possibility of escaping from his own situated experience. To create a framework where the faith being discussed is essentially treated as someone else’s faith benefits the discourse, because getting too personal about something so intimate can be very threatening.

YM
: I don’t know.

Bingo! A glimmer of doxastic openness. YM partially removes himself from the equation. The faith virus has received its first vaccination.

PB
: Yeah, I don’t know either.

I immediately modeled the behavior of openness and uncertainty that I’m attempting to engender in the subject. “I don’t know” is a deceptively powerful statement. It also leads the subject to think, correctly, that you don’t have all of the answers and that not having all the answers is okay. And it is okay, not just for me to not have all the answers, but for anyone and everyone including the subject.

(Long pause)

A pregnant pause is a very useful, nonthreatening technique, typically used in sales, to get the result you want. Often the uncomfortable silence will be filled by an answer; regardless, it allows the discourse to move forward, but if the dialectical space isn’t filled you can continue at your leisure.

PB
: So people who deeply and genuinely feel these experiences—these religious experiences—do you think they understand that they might not be caused by what they think they’re caused by?

I had this conversation years ago. Today, I would no longer ask such a leading question. Instead, I’d more carefully construct a framework and ask other questions about which he’d form additional hypotheses that I’d then continue to target for refutation. One effect of this constant targeting and undermining is to create a chowder of epistemic uncertainty—with individual propositions floating untethered from their cognitive foundation. By targeting virtually every proposition that populates his worldview, I’d be able to undermine his confidence in what he holds as true. Once this is accomplished, the specific belief caused by the faith virus—in this case Jesus Christ revealing himself—can then be dialectically isolated, made hollow, and extirpated.

I jumped ahead because of his age, but also because I saw an opportunity to drive a wedge into his belief system—separating the faith virus from his other cognitions—and frankly because I was less experienced.

YM
: Some probably do. Some don’t.

This statement is a hypothesis. It seems rather obvious and there was no point in targeting it for refutation. Also, by not targeting reasonable hypotheses at this juncture, the subject may feel he has just enough to grasp onto so he’s not drowning in uncertainty.

PB
: Yeah, that’s probably right. But you’ve thought about the feelings you had not being caused by Jesus. Right?

(Long pause)

Again, note the passive voice.

YM
: No.

I was somewhat surprised by this answer. I thought ego alone might have led him to answer in the affirmative.

PB
: So is it possible that the feelings you had were not experienced by Jesus?

(Long pause)

I repeated the question.

YM
: I don’t know.

Jackpot! He went from certainty to uncertainty—from absolute confidence to doubt; from precontemplation to contemplation; from thinking he experienced Jesus to being unsure. This particular intervention had ended. However, I was acutely aware of the danger he would face when he returned to his faith community. I was concerned he’d be pulled back into his faith delusions by loved ones or by clergy. For the next few weeks I made late night visits to the gym to look for him. I wanted to administer a follow-up treatment and see how he was doing. Unfortunately, I never saw him again. I’ve always regretted not giving him my phone number.

Intervention 2: Unsuccessful

The following is a conversation I had the morning of July 16, 2012, with a friend of the family. I’ve been engaging her on the topic of faith for more than five years, but to no avail.

PB
: So tell me, in one sentence, why, after all of our conversations, do you still retain your faith?

(Long pause)

PB
: You don’t have to answer now, you can tell me later.

HD
: Okay. Let me think about it.

(Very short pause)

PB
: Okay, what’s your answer?

(Laughter)

HD
: Because it gives me comfort. It’s ingrained in me.

This is the hypothesis: “It gives me comfort. It’s ingrained in me.” It’s what’s targeted for refutation in the elenchus.

A little humor, if it’s sincere and well met, goes a long way to cementing the therapeutic alliance. Humor is an incredibly effective and underused dialectical technique, probably underused because there are so many ways it can backfire. But when successful almost nothing is more effective in advancing rapport.

PB
: Do you think slave owners were granted comfort knowing that they’d have others to till fields for them?