People Who Would Be Right—If Only They Weren't Wrong
I submit the following is a list of people who would be right—if only they weren’t wrong. That is, their conclusions are quite legitimate, even unavoidable, but they are drawn from a faulty starting point. They should be commended for their ability to think in clear, consistent channels. It just so happens that the conclusions they draw are—if I may say so—fundamentally absurd, and they should, therefore, revise their starting points. It's a classic case of Aristotle’s saying: a small error in the beginning can multiply a thousand times by the end.
Alex Rosenberg (in The Atheist’s Guide to Reality) would be right—if only he weren’t wrong.1 Right about eliminativism and nihilism, that is. Rosenberg famously (or notoriously) denies the existence of conscious decision-making entities—in other words, the existence of YOU—moral facts, intentionality (or the "about-ness" of thoughts), and purpose or meaning in general. He does this on the basis—highly dubious, of course—that physical facts fix all facts; in other words, Rosenberg holds that everything there is to know about reality comes solely from the hardest of hard sciences, with no remainder.2 But of course, these positions are not only implausible, they are—frankly—insane (or, in more polite but less effective academic terms, “untenable”). The real problem is his atheistic scientistic materialism. That’s what should be rejected, not consciousness, meaning, morality, or truth.
Steven Nemes (in Theological Authority in the Church) would be right—if only he weren’t wrong. He’s right to reject inerrancy and inspiration, or at least our ability to know it, since he maintains there are no infallible theological authorities apart from God, including the apostles.3 According to Nemes, at best, these authorities can only be fallible and derivative.4 However, this approach ultimately undermines Christianity and leads to the implausible conclusion that public revelation is impossible, since no one could speak for God that isn’t God.
Yet, God could certainly enable someone to speak on His behalf: surely in God’s omnipotence He could protect a prophet from error if He wanted to.5 Whether He does so is another question, of course, but if one is Christian (my target audience—for this point, anyway), they must allow for both the possibility and actuality of this. Moreover, accepting the possibility of infallible theological authority at some point opens the door to its continuation over time—something worth considering.
Michael Huemer (in The Problem of Political Authority) would be right—if only he weren’t wrong. He’s correct in claiming there’s no legitimate moral basis for the state—at least from the perspective of liberal philosophy, particularly social contract theory and consequentialism.6 If you endorse these frameworks, Huemer argues, you should embrace anarchism, since, for one thing, political authority doesn’t meet the conditions for valid agreements (such as the availability of a reasonable way to opt out, or the idea that explicit dissent outweighs implicit consent).7
But this is absurd. We recognize the legitimacy of political authority in many cases and often view state coercion as morally justified—whether to uphold justice, protect individual rights, or fund conservation efforts or ballets. Huemer’s objections only hold if one adopts liberal premises. Instead, from an Aristotelian perspective, the state is a natural entity essential for human flourishing, not a contract-based construct. Aristotle—rightly, in my view—argued that humans are "political animals" and that the state is an extension of the family, tasked with promoting the common good. Just as parents have authority and obligations toward their children, the state has the right to make legitimate demands on its citizens for the well-being of the community.
This is just a sketch, of course, and each of these thinkers deserves more substantial engagement, which other philosophers and theologians have provided elsewhere. Still, the point of this post isn’t to disparage them—on the contrary, I find each of them impressive in various respects (I’m actually a fan of Huemer, often recommend his work, and am eager to pick up his latest on progressive myths)—but rather to highlight the role they play. You might call them “unintentional allies,” and for the positions I hold, that’s exactly what they are.8
His book is as pretentious as it is ignorant, which only makes it all the more delectable: “Knowing the truth makes it hard not to sound patronizing to the benighted souls still under religion’s spell,” Rosenberg declares. Poor guy—what a burden it must be, having to deal with all us small-minded plebs!
In a passing autobiographical note, Rosenberg remarks, “It took a few years, but by reading David Hume, I was able to figure out the mistake preventing science from satisfying me. The mistake, as Hume showed so powerfully, was thinking there is more to reality than the laws of nature that science discovers.” Quite a remarkable conclusion! Though, ironically, it’s certainly not a scientific one—nor could it ever be.
Nemes’s central thesis, as stated on page 13, is: “God and Jesus alone exercise theological authority in an original, infallible, and, in principle, irreversible manner. All other persons exercise theological authority in a derivative manner—fallibly and, in principle, reversibly—by relating to and bearing witness to the teachings of Jesus and the works of God in him.” Then, on page 100, he reiterates: "Only God and Jesus exercise theological authority in an original, infallible, and irreversible way. All other persons—even the apostles themselves—exercise theological authority only in a derivative, fallible, and, in principle, reversible way."
Fr. James Dominic Rooney points out that Nemes position is self-defeating. From Facebook: "Indeed, the view is self-defeating. The view proposes, in short, that nobody can speak for God except God. But then anything like public revelation is impossible. And if public revelation is impossible, nobody can have God's authority derivatively.”
Notice this protected prophet would still have their authority and infallibility derivatively, since only God is naturally infallible; derivativeness, as such, isn’t the issue.
Tyler McNabb contends the problem is secular political philosophy and instead proposes a theistic basis for political authority here. I disagree insofar as Aristotelian could be viewed as secular and yet seems to sufficiently avert anarchism. Of course, I am an Aristotelian and a theist, but that doesn’t mean much for our purposes here.
Qualification: While traditional contract theory may not provide a sound basis for political authority, consequentialism could potentially justify something akin to a night-watchman state. However, this outcome is still undesirable, as most people seem to believe that political authority extends well beyond a state limited to only the most rudimentary functions, such as protecting innocent lives.
For instance, theists often reference Rosenberg precisely because his conclusions are so repugnant to the average person that anyone seeing atheistic materialism stuck with those conclusions will likely reconsider their worldview options, since Rosenberg effectively shows that reductive atheists are likely stuck with those outcomes. The same applies to the others. Their reasoning, in many ways, is difficult to disagree with, but they each serve as a living refutation of the paradigms they promote. Put simply, the conclusions they reach within their frameworks are, to my mind, decisive reasons to reject those very frameworks. It’s about correcting that small error at the start that leads to catastrophic results in the end.