Friday, February 18, 2022

The Problem of the Criterion

In the process of reviewing Shawn Lazar's book, Scripturalism and the Senses, I came across the following statement:

Reformed Epistemology provides Neo-Scripturalism with a better definition of knowledge. As you may remember, Nash criticized Clark for having an idiosyncratic definition of knowledge, that it was too narrow, reducing most of what we know (or claim to know) to skepticism, such as beliefs that we are married we children. With the help of Reformed Epistemology, Neo-Scripturalism can better account for what is popularly taken as knowledge.

Whether a definition of "knowledge" Plantinga et al. have provided actually is "better" than what Clark proposed is something I will address elsewhere. My primary interest is Mr. Lazar's justification for his conclusion. He thinks the definition he outlines in his book "can better account for what is popularly taken as knowledge."

Why this interests me is that it reminds me of the "Problem of the Criterion." I first remember reading about the Problem of the Criterion in a paper by Richard Fumerton (link), my introduction to present day epistemological discussions. So this was one of the first issues that caught my attention and led to me considering Scripturalism in contemporary contexts. It has been a long time, but if I recall correctly, it was also from this paper that I was inspired to think about necessary and sufficient conditions for knowledge (link, link).

At any rate, there seems to be a hidden assumption implicit in the above quote. After all, why should one care "what is popularly taken as knowledge"? Are Mr. Lazar and Nash prepared to dismiss any views that are generally unpopular... like Reformed theology itself? I doubt it. It seems to me (and I think Mr. Lazar and Nash would agree) that the important questions in the field of epistemology have little to do with adjusting a definition of "knowledge" to fit what the majority think is true.

So what did Mr. Lazar really mean? If I have misunderstood Mr. Lazar, Nash, and others, they are free to correct me on what criticism of Clark's definition is really intended. But even if that is the case, the following considerations are worthy in their own right. Assuming I am correct, I believe that what may drive Mr. Lazar, Nash, and others away from Clark on this point is the hidden assumption of epistemic particularism. Epistemic particularism is one answer to the Problem of the Criterion:
...perhaps the best way to formulate the Problem of the Criterion in its most general form is with the following pair of questions (Cling (1994) and McCain and Rowley (2014)):

(1) Which propositions are true?

(2) How can we tell which propositions are true?
 
...These are not questions about the nature of truth itself. Rather, these are epistemological questions concerning which propositions we should think are true and what the correct criteria are for determining whether a proposition should be accepted as true or false. It is possible that one could have answers to these questions without possessing any particular theory of truth, or even taking a stand at all as to the correct theory of truth. Additionally, it is possible to have a well-developed theory of the nature of truth without having an answer to either (1) or (2). So, the issue at the heart of the Problem of the Criterion is how to start our epistemological theorizing in the correct way, not how to discover a theory of the nature of truth.
...The problem yielded by the Problem of the Criterion arises because one might plausibly think that we cannot answer (1) until we have an answer to (2), but we cannot answer (2) until we have an answer to (1). So, at least initially, consideration of the Problem of the Criterion makes it seem that we cannot get our theorizing started at all. This seems to land us in a pretty extreme form of skepticism—we cannot even begin the project of trying to determine which propositions to accept as true... 
According to Chisholm, there are only three responses to the Problem of the Criterion: particularism, methodism, and skepticism. The particularist assumes an answer to (1) and then uses that to answer (2), whereas the methodist assumes an answer to (2) and then uses that to answer (1). The skeptic claims that you cannot answer (1) without first having an answer to (2) and you cannot answer (2) without first having an answer to (1), and so you cannot answer either. Chisholm claims that, unfortunately, regardless of which of these responses to the Problem of the Criterion we adopt we are forced to beg the question... (link)

I will deal with Chisholm's claim that all responses are question-begging a little later. For now, the point is that Mr. Lazar's, Nash's, and others' aversion to (or, in some cases, derision of) Clark's definition of "knowledge" seems to stem, at least in part, from Clark being unable to say that he "knew" his wife. The various arguments seems to run as follows: people intuitively find [and should very much like to think] that they "know" their wives, and so any definition of knowledge which rules such out is "too narrow" (i.e. worse than one which does not rule such out). Others likewise have such intuitions, which is why such knowledge-claims about the subject are popular. All of this sounds like epistemic particularism:

Particularism: Assume an answer to (1) (accept some set of propositions as true) that does not depend on an answer to (2) and use the answer to (1) to answer (2).

That is, one begins with what counts as "knowledge" (1) and then attempts to formulate an understanding of how he "knows" such (2). That is, since we "know" our wives (1), let's talk about how we can tell that we "know" them (2). Here is the main problem epistemic particularists must face:

...The problem with particularism is that the particularist’s starting point is an unfounded assumption. Particularism starts with a set of particular propositions and works from there. If the particularist goes beyond that set of particular propositions to provide reasons for accepting them, she abandons that particularist response and either picks a new set of particular propositions to assume (a new particularist response) or picks something other than simply a new set of only particular propositions to assume and ceases to be a particularist.
In other words, if one begins his theorizing by saying "I know my wife," one can't very well provide reasons to justify the claim. For any such attempt to justify this claim would be theory-laden, grounded in the very particularist claim about being able to know his wife in the first place. 

Thus, I could say "I know you don't have a wife" and construct a theory of "knowledge" on the basis of that [and perhaps other] particularist claim[s]. I would then be a particularist whose propositional content is in direct conflict particularists like Mr. Lazar and Nash. Since neither claim would seem to be in a better position than the other - precisely because both conflicting claims were themselves the starting points for any further theorizing about how one can tell what "knowledge" even is - it doesn't appear possible for a third party adjudicate between the conflicting claims without first appealing to a methodology.

Before deciding whether or not this argument against particularism is a strong one, let us turn to methodism, for Chisholm also describes the methodist answer to the Problem of the Criterion as question-begging:
Methodism: Assume an answer to (2) (accept some criterion to be a correct criterion of truth – one that successfully discriminates true propositions from false ones) that does not depend on an answer to (1) and use the answer to (2) to answer (1).

Since methodism begins by assuming that some criterion is a correct criterion of truth without providing any epistemic reason to prefer this response to the alternatives, it begs the question against particularism and skepticism.
The methodist would propose a criterion by which one could determine whether or not one is married. This avoids the above dilemma that conflicting particularists may face. However, does it not run into an analogous problem? What if one proposes a different criterion for knowing truth than another? How can such a conflict be any more resolvable than epistemic particularism? 

Again, before attempting to answer any of these questions, I think it is worth noting that Clark affirmed methodism:
Physicists used to say that light consisted of ether waves. Today it is generally agreed that the methods used were defective, and that light is something else (they don’t quite know what). Hence even if botany or theology is written first, it cannot be accepted by a scholar until the crucial question is answered: How do you know? In a systematic treatment, the methodology ought to come first. Instead of asking, What is a cactus? or What is light? someone asks, What is God? How can one go about answering that question? Do we consult the Koran or the Vedas? Do we study the stars? Do we send a questionnaire to a thousand college professors? A method must be chosen (or used unwittingly) before any answer is forthcoming. Henry’s method is to consult the Bible and from it deduce that God is a spirit, infinite, eternal, unchangeable. We cannot start with God; we must start with the Bible. Why not say so first and then proceed to the theology the Bible teaches. (God’s Hammer, 1995, pg. 178)

But to return to the main subject: What one learns first from the Bible and what he learns second and third varies from man to man. One person begins with Genesis; another begins with Matthew. Similarly, a man may learn several propositions about God without reflecting on the method by which he learned them. Musicians and painters usually produce good works of art before they understand the theory. Hence in temporal psychology a knowledge of God precedes a knowledge of method. But to explain this process an apologist ought to start with the methodology. For while the unreflective reader may be unaware of the methodology – he may not realize how he does what he does – he nonetheless uses the method. And for Clark and Henry the method is Scriptural. (God’s Hammer, 1995, pg. 179, 184-186)
[As an aside, Clark's statement that "a knowledge of God precedes a knowledge of method" is interesting. It seems that in this context, Clark is affirming doxastic justification as parasitic on propositional justification (link). As will be seen in a below quote, Clark is concerned 1) that a learner is made aware, by the apologist, that he has a method as well as 2) that the learner is using the "right method." 

I am tempted to relate this to my recent reflections on Clark's view of "natural knowledge" (link) in that while Clark argued that heathens could possess such - at least, on a definition of "knowledge" as "true belief" - the apologist's job is to ensure that one begins to reflect on what "knowledge of God" they have (a la Acts 17). When this is accomplished and the learner is brought to acceptance of the right method of Scripture as his rule of faith and known, by grace through the work of the Holy Spirit, one's "knowledge" can be elevated to an epistemic status that allows for full assurance. Perhaps that oversteps a historical characterization of Clark's own thought, but if so, it would be how I personally would develop Clark's epistemology.]

I imagine Clark would identify "intuition" as the implicit method of epistemic particularists. Regardless, this would also help to account for why some's concerns for being able to know their wives were of no concern to Clark:
Granted, it is unlikely that anyone should go to such extremes to substitute another woman for the wife of an unimportant theologian or philosopher. But how do you know? So long as substitution is possible, certainty is impossible. (Clark and His Critics, 2009, pg. 75)

What, then, can we say to all the worries of question-begging? My own view of the entire situation is best answered after mentioning the "last" option to the Problem of the Criterion:

Skepticism: Assume that (i) there is no independent answer to (1) or (2), and (ii) if (1) and (2) cannot be answered independently, they cannot be answered at all.
Now, recall earlier Chisholm's claim that "unfortunately, regardless of which of these responses to the Problem of the Criterion we adopt we are forced to beg the question." The careful reader will notice that out of the three options stated thus far - particularism, methodism, and skepticism - one more option has been left out. Reread the above skeptical response without (ii). 

Perhaps there is no independent answer to (1) or (2). Even so, such does not need to be viewed as problematic, because to answer (1) and (2) simultaneously is indeed, contra skepticism (which, I think, is itself a self-referentially incoherent position to take on the question), an answer.

Thus, do we construct a definition of knowledge to capture experiences that intuitively seem to belong together (particularism)? Or do we begin with a definition by which we categorize particular experiences (methodism)? This is a false dilemma. Why? Because a methodological criterion for knowledge can itself be [particularly] known. Is it not question-begging to assume otherwise?

I can imagine a few objections to this, most of which spiral out of discussing the Problem of the Criterion itself. The most relevant criticism might be if one argued that what I am proposing is little different than those who identify solely as epistemic particularists or methodists. 

In response, obvious differences between must be highlighted. Stating that "I am married" is an instance of "knowledge," not a method for arriving at other other knowledge-claims. Thus, there is no counter-apologetic available to solely epistemic particularists who encounter other solely epistemic particularists who conflictingly claim "you are not married" as an instance of "knowledge." In contrast, Scripturalists who synthesize particularism and methodism do have counter-apologetics available against copy-cat opponents, as will be demonstrated below. Similarly, starting with a method for knowing things is not to say that one knows the method itself is true. Thus, there is as big a difference between solely epistemic methodists and those who synthesize particularism and methodism as there is between epistemic positism and foundationalism. These are important distinctions that should not be overlooked.

Another, more tangential criticism might be that even with the above distinctions in mind, someone else might attempt to likewise synthesize particularism and methodism by providing a different "methodological criterion for knowledge they claim that can itself be [particularly] known by the method itself." Does affirmation of one not beg the question against the other?

A few things ought to be stated in response. Firstly, the idea of question-begging is itself a concept that depends on a particular theory of knowledge. Solomon wrote, "of many books there is no end, and much study is a weariness of the flesh." (Ecc. 12:12). He might as well have written, "of many questions there is no end, and much answering is a weariness of the flesh." A fool can ask more questions than a wise man can answer. But can the fool himself answer what right he has to ask questions? Let any skeptics who ask questions designed to undermine the possibility of knowledge practice their inconsistency in silence.

To add to this point, if one interprets the Problem of the Criterion as an attack on foundationalism, he must be prepared to offer a non-skeptical alternative. By definition, infinitists would never be able to offer a complete answer to the Problem of the Criterion. And traditional, circular coherentists (for other versions of coherentism are foundationalism in disguise) no less beg the question than foundationalists and also have the problem of explaining how, if a belief cannot be self-justifying (as foundationalists can hold), reasoning in a circle "back" to a belief with which one "started" in a given conversation or thought-process adds or contributes to the justification of that belief.

Aside from these rebuttals, though, a more direct response to the question of how to adjudicate between two people who take particular, contradictory methods of knowledge as foundational for knowledge turns on the difference between epistemology and apologetics (and causation, for one cannot be argued into knowing truth by brute logic).

Let's say I claim that the criterion for knowledge is divine revelation - the extant extent of which is codified in or deducible from the Bible - a criterion itself knowable as such. I do, and Clark likewise made these claims:

But if there is a revelation, there can be no criterion for it. God cannot swear by a greater; therefore he has sworn by himself. One cannot ask one’s own experience to judge God and determine whether God tells the truth or not. Consider Abraham. How could Abraham be sure that God commanded him to sacrifice Isaac? Maybe this suggestion was of the devil; maybe it was a queer auto-suggestion. There is no higher answer to this question than God himself. The final criterion is merely God’s statement. It cannot be tested by any superior truth. (Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine, 1990, pg. 113)

How then may we know that the Bible is true? The Confession answers, “Our full persuasion and assurance of the infallible truth and divine authority [of the Scripture] is from the inward work of the Holy Spirit.”

Faith is a gift or work of God. It is God who causes us to believe: “Blessed is the man whom thou choosest and causest to approach unto thee” (Psa. 65:4).

Logically the infallibility of the Bible is not a theorem to be deduced from some prior axiom. The infallibility of the Bible is the axiom from which several doctrines are themselves deduced as theorems. Every religion and every philosophy must be based on some first principle. And since a first principle is first, it cannot be “proved” or “demonstrated” on the basis of anything prior. As the catechism question, quoted above, says, “The Word of God is the only rule to direct us how we may glorify Him.” (What Do Presbyterians Believe? 1985, pg. 18)

Suppose another claims the same thing about the Quran. What to do? Well, one difference between this scenario - in which particularism and methodism have been synthesized - and the others mentioned above is that my foundation may also prescribe apologetic methods for refuting others, including showing that their own foundation is internally inconsistent. Indeed, this is again what Clark himself suggests: 

...if apologetics has the task of discussing secular systems, is not the apagogic method the best – the method of reductio ad absurdum? 
...apologetics must be derived from revelation. At the same time what seemed to be a lack of consistency or resoluteness led to certain proposals for improving and extending his apologetic method. The proposals submitted stressed apagogic apologetics, the unity of truth and axiomatization as the most consistent denial of a common platform with unbelief. 
...the Gospel has a point of contact, and apagogic argumentation can be extended. Not only may the apologete show the self-contradiction inherent in secular axioms, as we said above; he may now stress the inconsistency of accepting both a secular axiom and a divine truth; and he may draw out the inferences of the divine truth and show its consistency with the additional truths of revelation. (Karl Barth's Theological Method, 1997, pgs. 96, 113, 118)

In fact, Clark does an excellent job of extending meta-epistemic considerations along these lines to a defense of a unified, methodological foundationalism: 

This is one reason why methodology must be carefully considered. Is it the right method to begin with sensory experience, or with a mystic trance, and conclude with the type of God that later appears? In particular, will anything at all appear later concerning sin, atonement, resurrection, and so on? The Christian needs a method that arrives at all this. He needs a single method. Two methods produce a bifurcation that cannot be unified. Theology then would be schizophrenic. A theory of knowledge must cover all knowledge. If it does not, and if a person uses two methods he cannot answer the question, Where should the one be used, and where the other? He cannot use theory number one to define the place of theory number two, nor conversely, and hence he has no ground for choosing one rather than the other at any point. This means that he really has no theory of knowledge at all...

The method used in this book and the theology that necessarily results are Biblical. The principle is to take the Bible as a revelation from God. (link)

That being said, apologetics does have limitations. As Clark notes, "One who believes in the unity of truth may still believe that the false system entails contradictions; but to prove this is the work of omniscience" (Historiography: Secular and Religious, 1971, pg. 370). We are not omniscient. Has the Problem of the Criterion, then, remained a problem after all?

No, for fortunately, God is omniscient, God has revealed Himself to us, and His revelation is self-authenticating. While we cannot necessarily show contradictions that stem from others' foundations, then, that apologetic limitation does not prevent us from knowing they exist. Additionally, even in such situations, we can, nevertheless argue against other foundations. As Ron DiGiacomo notes:

The transcendental argument for the existence of God is an argument that has as its conclusion God exists.

Prove A: The Christian God exists.
Step 1 ~A: (Assume the opposite of what we are trying to prove): The Christian God does not exist.
Step 2 (~A--> B): If God does not exist, then there is no intelligible experience since God is the precondition of intelligibility
Step 3 (~B): There is intelligible experience (Contradiction)
Step 4 (~ ~A): It is not the case that God does not exist (Modus Tollens on 2 and 3)
Step 5 (A): --> God does exist (Law of negation.)
Q.E.D.

...So what about step 2 of the argument? We can defend the premise of step 2 deductively by appealing to the absolute authority of Scripture. Of course the unbeliever rejects that authority; nonetheless that the unbeliever is dysfunctional does not mean that an appeal to Scripture is fallacious! After all, if a skeptic rejects logic should we then argue apart from logic? Since when does the dullness of an opponent dictate which tools of argumentation may be used? Of course, given the unbeliever’s suppression of the truth the Christian does well to defend step 2 inductively by performing internal critiques of opposing worldviews, which of course can only corroborate the veracity of step 2. It would be fallacious, however, to conclude because of such condescension toward the unbeliever that the conclusion of TAG (God exists) and the justification for its step 2 (God is the precondition of intelligibility) rest upon inductive inference. By the use of induction the Christian is merely acknowledging that the unbeliever refuses to bend the knee to the self-attesting Word from which step 2 can be deduced by sound argumentation. Since unbelievers will not accept the truth claims of the Bible and, therefore, a deductive defense of step 2 the only thing the Christian can do is refute the hypothetical competitors, but that hardly implies that step 2 cannot be proved by deduction. (link)

Yes, a Muslim or others might try to copy this transcendental line of reasoning - and that is why reductio ad absurdem argumentation Clark recommends is an excellent apologetic tool that can, in certain contexts, be more persuasive than transcendental reasoning - but one who is worried about what hypothetical scenarios in which we can't perform a certain apologetic says about our ability to know the Bible is God's word rather than the Quran (or whatnot) ought to keep in mind that apologetics is subordinate to epistemology in the first place (link). What we know dictates how we argue and defend what we know, not vice versa. Those who find these apologetic defenses to be "question-begging" ought to re-examine whether they have rightly understood and distinguished the structure of epistemic justification from apologetic methods of defending of one's position (as well as the relationship between the two).

Sunday, January 30, 2022

Gordon Clark Research Project (UPDATED)

A long time ago, I posted what I called, at the time, a "compilation of what I consider[ed] to be a near comprehensive transcription of Gordon Clark’s positive epistemological views, covering all of his books and, to my knowledge, most of his shorter articles." Since then, many relatively unknown publications by Clark became widely available. Thus, as I recently mentioned, I have spent the last several years updating my research project to account for the new information - letters, articles, notes, etc. - that has been made public.

After adding to my original research, the result is almost 800 searchable pages of quotes that I have found helpful in being able to distill Clark's thought. I was much less discriminate in what I included in the update to my original research project. My original intention was to only include what I considered to be epistemologically relevant statements. I was a bit more flexible this time around, as I anticipated it being much easier to flip through the indices of physical copies of Clark's books (if, for example, I forget the location of a "Clark quote" of which I vague recollection) than it would be to try sifting through hundreds of his individual publications (even if they are online). 

With all that being said, I have not gone back through those physical books that were used in my original research. I plan to do that before, God willing, some day setting down to write a book. If that doesn't happen, hopefully someone else will be able to make use of this. Enjoy!

Link to Gordon Clark Research Poject (UPDATED)

Tuesday, January 25, 2022

Book Review: Scripturalism and the Senses (Part 10)

Links to all parts may be found here. This part will contain a review and evaluation of Mr. Lazar's ninth chapter in his book, Scripturalism and the Senses.

The Bible and Other Sources of Knowledge

To briefly reiterate a point made in my last review, "sense knowledge" - by which I gather Mr. Lazar means a propositional belief that is epistemically justified, in accordance with externalism, in virtue of the manner in which the belief was caused (e.g. a divinely ordained and "reliable" process of which we are not consciously aware) - is not "a Biblical axiom." It would a biblical inference: from certain passages of Scripture, one infers that people can or have acquired some "knowledge" due, in part, to their senses or sense organs instead of special, divine revelation; therefore, "sense knowledge" is possible. No proposition of Scripture overtly references "sense knowledge" or the like - at least that I am aware of - so "sense knowledge" must be an inference or deduction one makes from Scripture.

Further, Scripture is not used to infer or deduce particular instances of sense knowledge that we have. From all appearances, Mr. Lazar would not argue that we can know when we have sense knowledge, only that it is hypothetically possible that we have such knowledge given that there are biblical examples of persons who have had it whether they themselves were aware such beliefs counted as knowledge (in some sense) or not. Because it is only possible that we have such knowledge, one might alternatively hypothesize that whatever external justificatory factor that must be present for sense knowledge has never been present in any of our sensory experiences. Perhaps we don't have sense knowledge after all, even if others, like those in the Bible, do.

To argue we indeed can be aware that we have sense knowledge seems to assume we can be aware of when we have had sense knowledge. But for us to be aware of when we have sense knowledge would be to suggest that the are no external justificatory factors on which us having sense knowledge would depend. In turn, that would be to affirm an internalist understanding of sense knowledge, a proposal of a sort of empirical epistemology that Mr. Lazar has assured us is not on offer and would invite all the objections to empiricism that Clark wrote in his numerous publications (objections with which Mr. Lazar says he accepts). Thus, I have argued that when it comes to a basic epistemology, sense knowledge (or other kinds of "knowledge" that are justified in an externalist sense) may be important - and it may be that we have it without being aware of the fact - but ought to be regarded as subordinate in fundamentality to knowledge that is justified in an internalist and infallibilist sense, knowledge of which we can be aware.

To also reiterate points I've made in other reviews (link), Scripture is not the only source of truth, nor do many Scripturalists claim that it is - including Clark. Rather, it "is in the Scripture alone we find truth" (link). Scripture is one's epistemic source of "knowledge" in a certain sense (cf. link). We may talk of other "sources" of "knowledge," and this is indeed the focus of Mr. Lazar's ninth [and tenth] chapter[s], but it must not be forgotten throughout this discussion that divine revelation - the extant extent of which is codified in Scripture - is the foundation, first principle, axiom, or presupposition of our basic epistemology, from which all other propositional "knowledge" of the fundamental kind mentioned above is deduced.

Memory

The first "extra-biblical" source of knowledge Mr. Lazar mentions is memory. Mr. Lazar begins this section by stating, "the Bible assumes people have memories." This is true, and Clark would have agreed: 

These objects of knowledge are not trivialities such as blues and sweets. They are truths or propositions. An example, one of these realities, a constituent of the noumenal world, is the proposition that God justified sinners on the basis of Christ’s imputed righteousness. This is not only a thought to which I may return time and time again. It is also a thought you and I can have simultaneously. Thus communication as well as memory is possible. (Christian Philosophy, 2004, pg. 91)

Clark no more denied that people have memories than he denied that people experienced sensation. One's "ability to remember," then, is not at issue. Instead, the question, as outlined by Mr. Lazar himself, ought to be whether the "Biblical evidence" indicates that memories are sources of "extra-Biblical knowledge" [of a certain kind]. 

None of the verses Mr. Lazar mentions or evidences a scenario in which the people who experienced memories knew them to be true. A problem that runs throughout this chapter is that Mr. Lazar's examples of allegedly extra-biblical knowledge in this chapter assume the point in question, conflate "knowledge" with useful opinions (link) or do not specify, let alone defend, what sort of "knowledge" Mr. Lazar has in mind. 

Moreover, even if persons could know things they remember, that doesn't mean that memory itself is the source of knowledge. Let's say that I both remember and know that "Jesus is the Son of God." Does that make my memory qua memory the source of knowledge? Could it not be that I remember something that I had already come to know, and that I know my memory on the same basis by which I originally came to know? I may both remember and know that "Jesus is the Son of God," but my knowledge could - or perhaps even must be, if it is "knowledge" of the sort in which Clark was interested - be due to Scriptural inference, not the mere fact that it is a memory of a proposition I had previously known, believed, or thought.

My own thinking is that we can know some memories. I have argued elsewhere:

...how is it that our reasoning and memory could be, in every case, fallible? I can see how we could have two different sense experiences, or how we could have a different sense experience from someone else, which yield contradictory beliefs and therefore leave us unable to ascertain which of the two beliefs is true.

But I don’t see how this could apply to reason or memory across the board. If any beliefs we have are in some sense memorial insofar as our thoughts either reference memories or themselves occur over a span of time rather than an instant, and if our thoughts in every case depend on our implicitly, if not explicitly, following certain logical structures, then I think there is a path to internally and infallibly justified beliefs which isn’t logically founded on sense knowledge. (link)

The above was an argument intended to parallel Clark's reference to an Augustinian critique of empiricism. Compare the bold in the quote to the line of reasoning that follows:

… one should note that no one can ever hear a piece of music or a line of poetry. Our opponents, who insist on sensation as the origin of knowledge, cannot well object to an instance taken from experience. Augustine pointed out that to “hear” music or poetry, one must at least “perceive” the rhythm. But there is no rhythm in a single sensation. Even beyond perception it is necessary to have memory before a line of poetry can be recognized as poetry. A single sound has no rhythm or meter. The first sounds of a line must be remembered until the last sound occurs; note also that the first sound longer exists when the last sound sounds. Therefore no one ever senses music or poetry. This Augustinian remark should satisfy any empiricist; but it is not exegesis. (Modern Philosophy, 2008, Pg. 270)

If music and poetry presuppose memory, so too - it seems to me - does [propositional] thought, for there is no meaning in a single concept... it is necessary to have memory before a proposition can be recognized as subject-verb-object. A single concept has no meaning. The first concept in a proposition must be remembered until the last concept is thought. This would appeal to Augustine's and Clark's theory of time as to why memory is critical to the possibility of knowledge. 

Perhaps one might counterargue that a proposition can be thought of in an instant or without temporal duration - in other words, in the causal chain of events which establish temporal sequence, perhaps I am able to think about the whole of propositional content without an intervening event. Now, this hypothesis would be difficult for me to accept - even regarding a short proposition such as "Jesus wept," it seems the thought occurs over a span of time, with intervening events in the objective causal chain of events (e.g. a movement my body makes) occurring as I begin the consideration of the proposition with the concept of "Jesus" and end it with the concept of "wept." If a known thought like that must occur over time, memory must be presupposed.

However, even if it were possible for men to think propositions instantaneously, I would further argue memorial knowledge seems implicitly presupposed insofar as when I think "Jesus wept" or "Jesus is the Son of God," I am thinking about a specific Jesus of whom I must have memory. In other words, concepts appear to tag propositions similar to the manner in which words do (link). As Clark says:

One must understand what the term Lord means. Further, as has already been pointed out, the name Jesus must be correctly apprehended. Confess that the Jesus of Strauss, Renan, or Schweitzer is Lord, and you will go to hell. (Today's Evangelism: Counterfeit or Genuine? 1990, pg. 66)

So, regarding memorial "knowledge," apologists could certainly refine defense of its reality, constraints (i.e. what is the scope of our memorial "knowledge," what is axiomatically deducible), and necessity (i.e. man is a temporal and limited creature, cf. mode of knowledge or background or tacit knowledge). But I do think the above establishes a beginning for that within a Scripturalist framework. I think certain instances of memorial knowledge can be argued to be preconditions for the sort of "knowledge" in which Clark was interested and, thus, would, like the laws of logic, not be "extra-biblical" but rather subsidiary to our sufficient condition for knowledge (link). More could, should, and hopefully will be said on this point another time.

Dreams

Another extra-biblical source of knowledge Mr. Lazar mentions is dreams. But the examples he mentions are dreams that function as mediums through which divine revelation is communicated. The "Lord said" or "an angel of the Lord... said" or God "warned" or God "revealed to Pharaoh" all refer to times during which the canon of special divine revelation was open. The question of the mode of communication (dreams, visions, etc.) is actually just a subset of whether there are any new sources of special divine revelation. Clark doesn't deny that God spoke to individuals in history apart from what was revealed in Scripture. Adam was not given a Bible in the garden. The real question is whether Mr. Lazar believes it is possible that God still speaks to us [in dreams] today. 

That itself would suffice as a reply, but another worthy point is that it appears some, if not all, of these and other biblical dreams did not ipso facto communicate knowledge. In the examples of Pharaoh and Nebuchadnezzar, for example, both required their dreams to be interpreted by prophets of the Lord, Joseph and Daniel to even understand what they meant. Other magicians or wise men around these kings admitted they could not interpret the dreams even after being told about it. Take the first example Mr. Lazar mentions: Pharaoh's dream. Joseph himself corrects Pharaoh that “It is not in me; God will give Pharaoh a favorable answer” (Genesis 41:16). That is, the epistemic as well as metaphysical source of [the interpretation of] the dream is God, not Joseph. 

Any dreams that involved symbolism in need of interpretation were dreams whose interpretations themselves relied on further divine revelation (cf. Daniel 2:18ff.). This follows along the lines of my argument that "Scripturalists ought to regard our epistemic foundation, not as a physical and non-propositional texts, but rather as the [propositional] contents which the texts codify." (link). Knowledge of that to which images or symbols refer presupposes propositional communication, for literal knowledge is propositional. 

Now, God uses the physical writ of Scripture, dreams, etc. as causal means by which He communicates propositional content. In one sense, then, we can regard these as "sources" of knowledge, and Mr. Lazar's next chapter does seem to intend to address the "epistemic status" of beliefs derived from such sources. He might have been better doing so in this chapter, in my opinion, but I gather that he intends here to demonstrate that there is "knowledge" from other sources than the Bible and later elaborate on what kind of "knowledge" this is. If that is the case, then as already mentioned, neither Clark nor subsequent Scripturalists would have an issue with a distinction between contexts in which "knowledge" means something other than that in which he was interested, so perhaps Mr. Lazar's "Neo"-Scripturalism largely resolves - allowing certain (maybe even useful) emphases - into ordinary Scripturalism. 

Regardless, I will note that causation is fundamentally a metaphysical category. It is an epistemic category only insofar as one might argue certain kinds of knowledge (e.g. of the externalist variety) depend on whether causation has metaphysically taken place in a particular way. As has already been argued in the introductory remarks, this is not the kind of knowledge which is epistemically fundamental. So as I see it, in what sense dreams et al. are regarded as "sources" of extra-biblical knowledge stands in need of some clarification.

Self-Knowledge

Mr. Lazar argues that self-knowledge is biblically affirmed. While I agree, I think the references to the gospel of John were ill-chosen. Those passages he cites speak of belief, not knowledge. 1 Corinthians 2:11 makes for a much better argument, as I too have argued elsewhere on this blog (link). In a previous review, I also alluded to why I believe a denial of self-knowledge to be inconsistent with [Clark's] revelational epistemology, and I have pointed out that Clark accepted self-knowledge at certain points in his life while rejecting it at others (link; follow the links in that review for more thorough analysis). 

In short, I think Mr. Lazar needed to say much more to establish that self-knowledge qualifies as "extra-biblical" knowledge. As with memorial knowledge, is self-knowledge really "extra-biblical" if understood as a precondition for knowledge? This is a line of argument Mr. Lazar does not attempt or dispute, so it is hard to tell how he would respond, but so long as it is kept in mind that divine revelation is the necessary and sufficient precondition for knowledge which accounts for these and other necessary, subsidiary conditions, I think not. I would at least need to see an argument to the contrary before feeling the need to say much more. 

Natural Theology and Moral Law

Two final and interrelated sources of extra-biblical knowledge Mr. Lazar believes the Bible itself mentions are knowledge due to natural theology and the moral law. I'll treat these together, as Mr. Lazar only quotes a few verses from Romans 1-2 as the basis for his arguments. That being the case, I wish Mr. Lazar had interacted with Clark's exegesis or thoughts on those passages (and on any of the other subjects in this chapter). Because he did not, I will. While this will make my response to this section of Mr. Lazar's chapter disproportionately long, I think it is will be helpful to readers who may be confused how Scripturalists can affirm "natural knowledge." Clark's answer is one possibility, and it does not depend on an externalist theory of epistemic justification (which is another possibility worthy of consideration in its own right).

Romans 1-2 is an oft-cited passage in Clark's publications, so much so that I had trouble deciding what to include and what not to include in this review. This article is Clark's longest exegetical reflection on Romans 1 of which I am aware. In it, he provides at least two possible arguments against natural theology, one of which will also apply to Romans 2 and moral knowledge, as we shall see below. The following highlights the first argument against the idea that Romans 1 teaches natural theology:

That which is known of God, later referred to as his eternal power and deity, includes his wrath, for verse 18 says so; and Nygren is correct, I believe, in making the last clause in verse 20 a purpose clause. God revealed himself for the purpose of making men inexcusable. Power and deity therefore include wrath. This wrath is revealed from heaven, but we must ask, what form of wrath and what form of revelation? 
...Now, if the wrath of God is revealed because it is known – its being known is the proof of its having been revealed – what is known is evident because God made it evident to them. And how do we know that God made it evident? The reason is that God’s invisible attributes, eternal power and deity, are clearly seen and understood by man’s observation [?] of created objects, in order that men may be held inexcusable.

The text does not explicitly attribute this knowledge to all mankind. At the minimum infants are excluded. What would be the maximum permitted by the text? Could it be that all who have not heard the gospel are excluded? Do Paul’s words apply only to those who have heard the proclamation? In verse 17 the righteousness of God is said to be revealed in the gospel. Of course it does not follow by the strict laws of validity that God’s righteousness is not revealed elsewhere also. The reign of Pericles is revealed in Grote’s History of Greece but this does not prevent Bury from mentioning it also. Cannot righteousness be revealed both in the gospel and in nature? Nevertheless the Bible as a whole teaches that the righteousness here envisaged is revealed only in the gospel. Hence no one ignorant of the gospel – and the “gospel” includes the book of Habakkuk – can have learned about this righteousness. If now this is true of righteousness, it may also be true of wrath. That is to say, Paul is addressing the Roman Christians, who had already heard the gospel. Other Romans had heard the gospel, had received the revelation, from the mouth of Peter or other disciples, and had clearly understood the preaching, for God made it clear to them; but they refused to believe and so continued in the sins described in the remainder of the chapter. This would successfully exclude all notions of natural theology from this passage, for on this view Paul has in mind only people who have heard the gospel. Let it be clearly admitted that this interpretation is not a necessary conclusion from the text. But is its falsity a necessary conclusion? Is it not a possibility to be considered? 

Note that Clark only mentions this as an exegetical possibility. A few paragraphs later, he refers back to this interpretation as "possible though suspicious." In 1963, Clark summarized and criticized Barth's position on Romans 1, which was substantially the same as the above:

…[the heathen's] refusal to accept this knowledge, their suppression of it in unrighteousness, must therefore have occurred after and not before the ministry of the Apostle. The idolatry and immorality described in the chapter can therefore be only that of the first century of our era, and only that of the people to whom Paul himself preached. No doubt the heathen had always so lived, but Barth implies that the sin intended in the chapter is only sin A.D., and no reference to sin B.C. is intended. This is an unusual exegesis…

The main thought is prima facie improbable. Paul’s words rather clearly suggest a statement about the heathen as such and a revelation which they possess. (Karl Barth’s Theological Method, 1997, pg. 118)

He outright rejected Barth's exegesis in 1969, but notice that he also, in the same breath, affirms "natural knowledge": 

Though dim and restricted, this natural knowledge of God is not to be denied. Romans 1:20 may not guarantee the validity of the theistic proofs, but it plainly asserts some knowledge of God derived from “the things that are made.” Romans 2:15 shows a minimal a priori knowledge of moral principles. On such natural knowledge human responsibility depends. When Karl Barth argues that the heathen which Paul has in view are not the heathen generally but only those to whom he had preached the Gospel, so that all the others have no knowledge of God at all, we regret that his exegetical powers failed him (compare Church Dogmatics, II:1:119ff ). Yet this natural knowledge is minimal in extent and practically useless in communicating the way of salvation. Who can deny that the savage tribes of the jungles know very little about God? (God's Hammer, 1995, pgs. 92-93)

There is a refreshing honesty in reading a theologian who can see the attractiveness of an interpretation of Scripture - in that it would fit well with his other beliefs - yet reject it if he does not find it to do justice to the real meaning of God's word. But such honesty does beg certain questions for those who hold to a Scripturalist theory of knowledge. 

As mentioned in a previous review and in my foregoing remarks on this chapter by Mr. Lazar, what counts as "knowledge" is a question determined by the context in which the concept is found. While Clark does indeed affirm "natural knowledge," he qualifies his affirmation in the long article (referenced above) on Romans 1:

“whether or not [Paul] speaks of such a natural knowledge of God” is a question that ought to be answered, yes or no. There need be no “misunderstanding of Paul, whether the answer be yes or no.” What is needed are clear cut definitions. If Thomas’ definition of natural theology is used, the present writer would answer, No. But if a vague religious sense be meant, if natural religion were conceived as a set of rites and beliefs impressed by the customs of the tribe, or something else still more vague, the answer would be a vague yes. (link)

"Clear cut definitions" are needed. This quote is also a rare instance in Clark's thought in which he entertains the possibility of a sort of natural theology that can be affirmed: one which, as Clark does, affirms "natural knowledge" while also distancing itself from wrong methods of accounting for that "knowledge" (wrong methods I think he usually has in mind when referring to "natural theology"). For there is no question that Clark is consistent in his rejection of empirical knowledge even when he affirms natural knowledge:

Again, the Hebrew-Christian view that “the heavens declare the glory of God” does not, in my opinion, mean that the existence of God can be formally deduced from an empirical examination of the universe. If on some other grounds we believe in the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, we can see that the heavens declare his glory; but this is not to say that a person who did not believe in God could demonstrate his existence from nature. (God’s Hammer, 1995, pg. 66)

In what sense, then, is "natural knowledge" possible on a Scripturalist epistemology? As already mentioned, there is a second argument against natural theology in the long discussion of Romans 1-2 in "Nooumena Kathoratai." In this argument, Clark pivots from a dismissal of Barth's position and critique of an empirical understanding of Romans 1 to an alternative idea of how the "knowledge" of heathens in Romans 1 coincides with or is similar to the "knowledge" of Gentiles without the law in Romans 2:

One must compare interpretation with interpretation. There are numerous verses and passages whose exact meaning is difficult to determine. Before rejecting, the above out of hand, let us examine a more widely held view. It is that all men – we shall not press the case of infants – by observing stars and stones have a clear understanding of God’s wrath, omnipotence, and deity. There is a modification of this view that better survives analysis, but one may take this form first. This first form means that an observation of stones gives us knowledge of divine omnipotence, and an observation of the lamentable results of drug addiction gives us a knowledge of God’s wrath. But no one has ever shown how this could be possible. ‘Stones are heavy, therefore God will punish sin’ is already an invalid inference.

The second form of appeal to the ‘things that are made’ makes a normative conclusion more plausible. The expressions mostly used up to this point have designated visible objects, stones, and stars, as examples of the things that are made. Many commentaries take this for granted. But Godet, and with greater clarity Shedd, mention an internal as well as an external revelation. That is to say, the human mind is one of the things that God made; and while Godet and Shedd do not quite say so, this mind may turn out to be of such greater importance that stars and stones can be disregarded. Godet mentions man’s “conscience and understanding,” even though he puts the emphasis on physical nature; and Shedd speaks of “conscience … consciousness … rational not sensuous perception, intuitive and not deductive.” Perhaps if we submerge the empirical elements these commentators retain, their more or less defective apriorism may lead to a better understanding of Paul’s meaning...

In other words, we discover the divine attributes by introspection of the constitution of the mind. The a priori forms of logic presuppose the power, wrath, and deity of their maker...

In conformity with this, one may note that nobody can recognize a flower as God’s handiwork, unless he has a prior knowledge of God. As Calvin said, the knowledge of God is the first knowledge a person has. It is innate; not derived from experience.

Hence the passage in Romans should be taken as similar to those phrases in the Psalms, such as, the heavens declare the glory of God. There is no valid argument. Only his works are visible. (link) 

The third paragraph is key, and we will return to it momentarily. As already pointed out, Clark rejects: 1) the "Barthian" restriction of "natural knowledge" only to heathens who have heard the gospel as well as 2) an empirical interpretation of heathen "knowledge." The heavens may declare and function as a witness to God's handiwork, but one who has not been converted by the gospel will not "recognize" such as God's handiwork. Unregenerate men suppress the truth rather than confess it. On the other hand, any attempt to suppress truth cannot "altogether succeed" in its desired effect:

Wrath, guilt, and liability to punishment are appropriate because men know the truth and yet suppress it. What is known of God has been made clear to them (Acts 14:17). The eternal attributes of omnipotence and deity, though invisible, are clearly seen in the created universe, rendering it inexcusable for a man not to worship God. The race, refusing to glorify and thank God, became stupid, so stupid as to fall to the level of idolatry. They worshipped birds, beasts, and even reptiles.

...All sorts of evils followed: maliciousness, murder, deceit, backbiting, cruelty, and so forth. Yet, though they wish to exclude all knowledge of God from their minds, they could not altogether succeed. They still knew that just judgment of God, namely, that people who practice such things are worthy of death; nonetheless they continued in their wicked way and entirely approved of those who did such things. (link) 

How can unregenerate men who suppress truth nevertheless know the "just judgment of God"? Their own conscience will accuse them, for the [Mosaic] law is written in their hearts. Romans 1 and Romans 2 dovetail:

In addition to particular cases, general statements occur in Luke 12:45-48 and John 15:22; but particularly in Romans 1:32, “Knowing the ordinance of God, that they who do such things are worthy of death, not only do the same, but approve of those that do them.”

This last reference meets the objection that the heathen are not responsible because they have never heard the gospel. They are responsible because they know the law. “When the Gentiles, who do not have the [Mosaic] law, act lawfully by nature, they are, without the [Mosaic] law, a law to [or for] themselves: They show the work of the law written in their hearts” (Romans 2:14-15). Thus responsibility is both established and limited by knowledge. (Essays on Ethics and Politics, 1992, pg. 181)

[Parenthetical: as a self-professing traducian and realist, I think Clark would have done well, in such contexts as these, to mention our real unity with and participation in Adam's sin as the basis for our responsibility to God's law (particularly, our culpability in having broken God's law). This is a subject which merits a separate post, although I will briefly return to it below.]

That is, I believe the crux of Clark's argument is that anthropology matters. Man is the image of God, so God's law is written is written in his heart (i.e. mind). Man's mind itself is a reflection of his Creator's mind. Instead of rejecting "natural knowledge" altogether, then, for those whose minds are developed to the extent that "introspection" is possible, Clark references "a priori forms" as a means by which we can understand how the conscience or mind that God created enables man to "discover the divine attributes." Clark similarly argues elsewhere:

Various Christian philosophers believe that one can see philosophical principles presupposed by the text. The Thomists, for example, think that Romans 1:20 requires empiricism and justifies the cosmological argument. Calvinists have historically made the knowledge of God—not the knowledge of sensory objects—basic, and hold that Genesis 1:26 and Romans 2:15 presuppose innate ideas, or a priori forms. (link)

When Clark says there are philosophical principles presupposed by the text, he is not arguing that Scripture ought not to be considered one's first principle. Rather, it seems that he is getting at an argument I made in an earlier review regarding ontological preconditions for knowledge and their relationship to sufficient condition epistemic while Scripture:

I want to reflect more upon the idea the the necessary preconditions for knowledge I describe above and the various tests that Mr. Lazar, Clark, and I have mention are perhaps better labelled ontological preconditions for knowledge.

This seems right and, with further elaboration, would communicate what I am trying to get at more clearly: they characterize what the knower, knowledge, known, etc. must ontologically be or [possibly] possess in order for knowledge to occur. This is how the knower can know his first principle or sufficient condition for knowledge without necessarily knowing necessary, subsidiary preconditions that his worldview must have, in principle, the power to explain.

Scripture is the sufficient and foundational epistemic justification for what ontologically must be the case to even know Scripture. Ontologically, man must be like God to possess knowledge, and this Scripture affirms. Nevertheless, knowledge of God through the revelation of Himself is epistemologically "basic":

In spite of the RC claim that Paul the apostle put his stamp of approval on Aristotle and Aquinas in Romans 1:19-20, it is clear that the Bible offers no argument to prove God’s existence. The heavens indeed display the glory of God; but a modern scientist who had no prior conviction of God could see there only a display of nuclear energy.

It is noteworthy that Luther (an Occamist) and Calvin, who seems to have held both Plato and Aristotle in low esteem, had no natural theology. Calvin at the beginning of his Institutes denied that we first know ourselves and secondly infer God’s existence. God for Calvin is the first object of knowledge, and this knowledge comes, not from nature, but by revelation. When the zeal of Protestantism began to cool in the seventeenth to nineteenth centuries, natural theology revived. This was particularly true with the Lutherans, but it is also true of the Reformed Church. Is there ground for hope that the late twentieth century will see a renaissance of Calvinism, a rejection of natural theology, and an adherence to Scriptural revelation? (link)

Thus, the "discovery" of the divine attributes by introspection, reflection on ontological presuppositions of the text, etc. do not imply Clark subscribed to a rationalist epistemology. But then how, for example, can heathen who reject divine revelation nevertheless be said to "know" the law? Yes, their being images of God means that they are ontologically capable of "knowledge." It also explains why their consciences might be pricked to consider divine truths such as are mentioned in Romans 1 and 2. But in particular, what is the "epistemic status" (as Mr. Lazar might put it) of heathen "knowledge," since they suppress divine revelation? In a return to Barth, I think Clark addresses both ontology and natural knowledge in what follows before segueing into an answer:

In Reformed theology the defaced but not annihilated image of God is sinful man was never conceived as being an axiom common to two systems of thought. The image is a psychological, mental, ontological reality. It is an existing part of human nature. Let us assure Barth that from this element an unregenerate man cannot somehow manufacture faith. The present criticism proceeds always along the line that Barth’s most cherished theses can be maintained, and maintained more thoroughly than he himself maintains them. Here he is worried by a non-existent danger. Without falling into modernism or into Romanism one may hold that there is a sense in which man has a capacity for faith not shared by a tree or stone. When God gives the gift of faith, he is not miraculously raising up sons to Abraham out of the stones on the roadway. Faith is a mental activity and by definition presupposes a rational subject. Reason therefore can be considered to be an element common to believer and unbeliever; and if “apprehension” of the Word of God is the understanding of a divine message, then the image of God preserved from creation and the fall is a prerequisite thereto.

Note that, to this point, that Clark has emphasized the ontological prerequisite or presupposition: man is God's image, someone with whom one can reason. Clark immediately continues to address the epistemic status of the "knowledge" of heathens with whom a believer might reason:

Man’s logical capacity is not the only constituent of God’s image. In addition there are a few simple theological and moral beliefs. In the section last quoted (I, 1, 272) Barth wishes to do justice to these facts; “peccator non capax” must bow to actual faith. But there are other facts also. Unless everybody is to be included as a believer in the church, we must admit the existence of unbelievers who actually even if inconsistently believe a few divine truths. Two systems of thought as such cannot contain common knowledge. Based as they are on separate sets of axioms, they can have no proposition in common; and if one system is truth, the other must be false. However, living people are not so thoroughly consistent as ideal systems. People are inconsistent; they believe contradictories without noticing the fact. Hence it is psychologically possible for an unbeliever and a believer to agree on a given proposition. And this point of agreement may be used as a point of contact for the Gospel. What is thus theoretically possible, the majority of exegetes have supposed to be declared actual in the first chapter of Romans. Does not Paul assert that the heathen have a knowledge of God? This knowledge may not be extensive, but its importance depends on its being the basis of heathen responsibility.

Now, because such beliefs held inconsistently, the Gospel has a point of contact, and apagogic argumentation can be extended. Not only may the apologete show the self-contradiction inherent in secular axioms, as we said above; he may now stress the inconsistency of accepting both a secular axiom and a divine truth; and he may draw out the inferences of the divine truth and show its consistency with the additional truths of revelation. (Karl Barth’s Theological Method, 1997, pgs. 117-118)

That Christianity and heathenism have no epistemic overlap as contradictory worldviews does not thereby entail that a Christian and a heathen have no epistemic overlap, for persons can be inconsistent. The epistemic overlap here is not one in which two people in God's image begin with the same epistemic foundation and [reason to] possess[ion of] the same "knowledge." That kind of "knowledge" would be the ideal, the sort in which Clark is interested in apologetically defending (notice too the connection and distinction between apologetics and epistemology that I have emphasized as fundamental to understanding Scripturalism, link).

Rather, heathen "knowledge" is their "accepting... a divine truth." They can "actually even if inconsistently believe a few divine truths." They "agree on a given proposition" with a believer. But this belief, acceptance, or agreement is not systematically derived. If it were, it would have to derive from divine revelation, the only epistemic source which allows for consistency. No, the epistemic status of "knowledge" in view here is not so rigid as it is in other works by Clark, as can be seen in how Clark defined knowledge in the same book:

"How can knowledge, i.e., belief in or acceptance of a true proposition, depend on giving thanks or feeling awe? This is not true in mathematics. Nor can it be true in theology." (Karl Barth’s Theological Method, 1997, pg. 169)

Now, no Scripturalist would deny that unbelievers can believe or accept a true proposition. Typically, they will just apologetically argue that the unbeliever is inconsistent in doing so. Likewise, a Scripturalist might reason with a believer who endorses a Thomistic or empirical epistemology that they are using a wrong method for accounting for a right, divine truth they both believe. If that is the sense of "natural knowledge" Clark is promoting, there is no issue, and one can agree with Clark when he concludes: 

Now Paul indeed bases responsibility on knowledge, but he asserts that the heathen had knowledge, some knowledge at any rate; they tried to suppress it, but could not quite succeed. And even if it were Paul who “awakened” this knowledge in them, the implication would be that some remnant or potential knowledge had been lying dormant in their minds to be awakened. And, finally, to repeat, it is indubitable that the heathen and the unbeliever have this knowledge in common. (Karl Barth’s Theological Method, 1997, pg. 120)

[Parenthetical: while the reference to "remnant or potential knowledge" "lying dormant in their minds" is probably a reference to Barth's thought that only heathen to whom the gospel was preached had "knowledge," Clark's a fortiori response can be applied to infants who, Clark elsewhere argues, have the "innate idea of God" due to possessing the same "a priori equipment" as adults:

The Logos is the rational light that lights every man. Since man was created in the image of God, he has an innate idea of God. It is not necessary, indeed it is not possible, for a blank mind to abstract a concept of God from sensory experience or to lift sensory language by its bootstraps to a spiritual level. The theories of Empiricism, of Aristotle, of Aquinas, of Locke, are to be rejected. 

The positing of innate ideas or a priori equipment does not entail the absurdity of infants’ discoursing learnedly on God and logic. To all appearances their minds are blank, but the blankness is similar to that of a paper with a message written in invisible ink. When the heat of experience is applied, the message becomes visible. Whatever else be added, the important words refer to non-sensuous realities. (Christian Philosophy, 2004, pg. 203)

Whether coincidental or intentional, the "invisible ink" analogy nicely ties into the writing of God's law on their minds. With experience, infants will become able to introspectively examine the message inscribed in their ontological makeup: an image of God who have already sinned in Adam. That this knowledge is dormant, so to speak, until the infant has enough cognitive development for introspection is little different than an adult whose knowledge of the same is dormant while he sleeps. At this point, however, I could be somewhat deviating from exposition of Clark's thought to development of it.]

So: on the one hand, Clark can affirm "natural knowledge" and that heathens can "know" divine truths in the sense that they - inconsistent with whatever non-revelatory epistemic axiom to which they [implicitly] hold - believe them. On the other hand, Clark can say, in a different context and [clearly] with a different conception of "knowledge" in mind:

First, Moses said that revelation was the greatest event that ever happened. Second, there is no knowledge of God apart from revelation, and therefore no knowledge of how a church and its activities should be conducted except in the Scriptures. Now, third, and a point that needs emphasis, God's revelation is clear, objective, and intelligible. And it is authoritative, whether or not we accept it. (April, 1959, Reformed Presbyterian Advocate, Volume 93, Number 4)

To conclude my reflections on this chapter, I think a definition or discussion of "source" or "knowledge" (like what I provided in an earlier review) would have helped clarify in what particular respect Mr. Lazar believed his epistemology is in contrast with Clark's and would have helped the reader evaluate Mr. Lazar's chapter, for Mr. Lazar may have found himself to be in larger agreement with Clark than he realized. In particular, mention of whether different kinds of "knowledge" are under discussion would have framed Mr. Lazar's argument in a clearer way. To this end, interaction with Clark's writings on these subjects would have been helpful. 

In the next part of my review, I will turn to chapter 10, which Mr. Lazar calls The Epistemic Status of Extra-Biblical Beliefs.

Sunday, December 5, 2021

Molinism and The "Publisher" of Evil

A friend forwarded me a recent James White and William Lane Craig discussion (link). I listened to the opening remarks (through 18 minutes) and had a few observations of and reflections on what Craig said.

The way Craig frames his position in his opening remarks about Scrooge is important. The spirit of Christmas future shows Scrooge what would (emphasis Craig) happen, given certain conditions. The critical point is at the 14 minute mark: Craig says God knows what "people would freely choose" in any circumstance "in which they might be placed" logically prior to decreeing in what circumstances people are placed.

This is the essence of Molinism. It's almost like God runs a simulation of what "I" would "freely" choose in scenario x, y, and z. God then determines to create the conditions for scenario y so that the simulation plays out in reality. In this way, the Molinist maintains that God is in control of all things. After all, God could have run scenario z if He wanted to, so He is "in control." Yet the Molinist will also claim that people are free in a libertarian sense, since "my" choice in scenario y was (allegedly) free. God's knowledge of what my choice would be in scenario y is not dependent on His decree that scenario y actually happens - just the opposite.

The problem with this is referred to as the grounding objection, and as I understand it, it can be explained in various ways:

If God's decree is "logically posterior" to His knowledge of what I would freely choose in a given scenario, the question is begged as to what "grounds" God's knowledge of what I would freely choose. God allegedly has middle knowledge, but how? It can't be grounded in God's natural (necessary) knowledge, because we aren't talking about necessary truths or realities. It can't be grounded in God's decretal knowledge, since God's decree is (allegedly) logically posterior to God's so-called "middle" knowledge of what I "would" "freely" choose in a given scenario.

So on what basis does God know what I would choose in a given scenario? A simulation? A simulation is never the reality. The question is how God can know, if I am free in a libertarian sense, that I would choose a definitively certain way given scenario y. For until the scenario is "run" (played out in reality such that I am able to make a choice in that scenario), I haven't actually made a choice (I am not the same as a simulated version of myself).

A Molinist will likely demure and say that the basis for God's knowledge is not a simulation. But since middle knowledge cannot be something tied to God's own nature (i.e. things dealing with necessary truths or reality) nor God's decree (i.e. things dealing with God's free choice), then it seems all that is left is that God's "middle" knowledge depends on a quasi-real version of myself. Perhaps a more neutral way to frame the point is by asking how I can be really free (in a libertarian sense) if God knows that I would act a certain way logically before I actually do.

Even if the Molinist continues to protest against these representations, the main point (that even the Molinist would seem to admit) is that God's "middle" knowledge depends on something external to Himself. Even Craig admits this when he elsewhere says, God "has to play with the hand He has been dealt" (link). This statement that Craig made in the past gives away his and the Molinist's position: it seems that someone else has dealt the cards and, therefore 1) God is not in control of all things (e.g. the dealt hand), and 2) God's knowledge is dependent upon whoever or whatever dealt these cards.

This is severely problematic. If God's knowledge is eternal (as I think and have argued it must be) yet dependent, then what is the nature of that on which His knowledge is dependent? Is that something else co-eternal with God? And aside from this question, is it possible for God to be eternally omniscient if His knowledge is dependent upon an extrinsic source (I would and have argued in the above link is not)?

This is the main counterargument against Molinism. Now, as for what Craig says about Molinists and Calvinists being like-minded in agreeing God has overriding purposes for moral evil yet there being a significant distinction in that for the Molinist, God can "will" in given circumstances that one choose good whereas a Calvinist cannot, his argument is equivocal. Calvinists can maintain the same distinction Craig would between God's moral or prescriptively will vs. His decretal will. In a given circumstance, a Calvinist can maintain God commands other than He had decreed.

Furthermore, for the Molinist, God does not merely permit moral evil, He decrees it. The Molinist would agree God could have not created at all. So the decree for God to create this world means that the Molinist must agree God wants moral evil to occur. Whatever reasons He might have for decreeing a world in which creatures freely choose evil, He wanted this world.

So much, I think, is the standard Calvinist reply to Molinism. I think the following illustration, however, highlights the point. In contexts involving the problem of evil and the Reformed response, I tend to hear a lot about God as the "author of evil." But consider two publishers:

1) Publisher 1 publishes a book he wrote, and the book he wrote includes characters that choose moral evil.

2) Publisher 2 has drafts of books handed to him (by whom? who knows!), and he chooses to publish one in which characters choose moral evil over any drafts of books in which no one chooses moral evil.

Is there a significant moral difference between the two publishers? I fail to see one. One might argue that because publisher 1 was also the author of the book, he is morally "responsible" for causing the characters who choose moral evil in a way that publisher 2 was not.

Now, a publisher who is also the author has more direct, intentional impact on why characters act a certain way. But his reasons for writing them the way he does need not differ from the reasons a mere publisher perusing the same book might choose it involving the same characters. If it is morally acceptable for the second publisher to publish the same book as the first publisher (who also authored the book), the burden is on the one who argues that the first publisher acted in a morally unacceptable way to pinpoint why the first publisher's more direct and intentional connection is morally unacceptable. Simply stating that the first publisher was also the author is not an argument against the moral acceptability of his actions.

In fact and on the contrary, I would argue that an author who intentionally writes characters a certain way is, if anything, in a better position to know why the book is worth publishing in contrast to a publisher who has been handed several drafts ("dealt" a hand) and left to divine - pun intended - which one tells the best story!

So while Molinists like Craig may charge Reformed Christians with believing God is the author of sin - and I have argued elsewhere that whether or not this is accurate or even problematic depends on what the person making the charge means by "author" - Molinists like Craig believe God is the publisher of sin. For the same reasons Craig would not view his position as problematic, Reformed Christians have analogous appeals as to why their view is not problematic. A book that is worth publishing was a book worth authoring.

Saturday, November 20, 2021

How to Study a Philosopher or Theologian

A friend asked me to summarize how I have gone about studying the thought and work of Gordon Clark - that is, what methodological approaches have I used (consciously or otherwise) that would I recommend others take when trying to correctly understand, accurately represent and articulate, and/or develop the thought of another theologian, philosopher, etc. The following is a list of what came to mind:

Is the Theologian/Philosopher Worthwhile?

I started reading books by Gordon Clark a little more than a dozen years ago. At the time, I wanted to be confident in how to defend a faith I had been taught from youth and was learning more about in college. I used to seek out discussions or debates with others to fine tune my apologetic thought processes: what do I find to be good arguments? What arguments seemed to ring hollow? Were there areas in which I was not confident?

To make a long story short, prior to my exposure to Gordon Clark, I toyed with the idea that a transcendental argument could prove the "Christian" worldview true. I knew that evidential arguments would not suffice for a strict proof, so I tried testing, usually in discussions and debates with agnostics and atheists, whether a certain feature or features unique to "Christianity" - for example, the Trinity - had to be implicitly accepted (e.g. either for metaphysical or epistemological reasons). If I couldn't do that, then I felt - at the time - that my faith would rest on shaky grounds. I suppose I was thinking like a rationalist.

Typically, at some point in a conversation, the other person I was talking to would acknowledge that they had certain inconsistencies within their own belief systems and would stop conversation. But I was left with the worried feeling that if they simply pointed out that my own, specific views did not follow from the fact that theirs were flawed - or that whatever arguments I was using did not and would not specifically select for my faith - then I would be unable to affirm with certainty that "Christianity" is true. I felt better about having comparative consistency in my beliefs - I was never tempted to abandon my faith - but I wasn't sure how to pacify my uneasiness in being unable to prove "Christianity" was true. 

[I put "Christianity" in quotes because had someone ever stopped to ask me how I knew what "Christianity" - or a unique feature thereof - was, that may have led to me question how I could prove the Bible itself (a canonical collection of specific books and passages) really was God's Word. It was a question I had never considered, so don't know how I would have answered that.]

In 2009, I happened upon the presuppositionalism of Gordon Clark, whose points about the need for first principles allowed me to see that everyone makes assumptions. We cannot "prove" all of our beliefs ad infinitum. I found this convincing, and the way in which the point was presented was so simple, I found myself wanting to read more by him: did he have ideas about how or why some assumptions or presuppositions could be better than others, or how we could defend some to be true and find others to be false? Yes, he did. The more I read, the more I became interested. I doubt I would have kept reading Clark if he had only made that solitary (though important) observation and left readers to figure out any subsequent questions on their own. 

In short, then, I generally liked how he thought, and his writing was personable enough for me to want to continue learning more about what he had to say. I can imagine that another reason one might be attracted to Clark's thought is by having knowledge of the man himself: in all areas of his life, he stood for what he thought was true. If I were to recommend a starting point for others who want to "master" the thought, so to speak, of another person, it would simply be to find a person whose content or life story you enjoy reading about or listening to. 

Alternatively (or additionally), one can study an author so long as one has a defined motivation, goal, or purpose. A long time ago, I read William Young's "The Shack," not because I thought I would particularly enjoy the content, but precisely because I gathered that someone I knew might enjoy the content - content which I gathered contained unorthodox views of Christianity. While I would not have otherwise read the book, it wasn't so much a chore for me to do so because I had a reason for it: to highlight remarks in the book that an unsuspecting reader might overlook and point them out as having dangerous implications. 

Now, while that was just one book, I could extrapolate the principle to an entire collection of works by an author with whom I disagree, and indeed I have done in at least one other case that I can recall. In preparation for the 2012 TrinityFoundation essay contest - contests which were motivation enough for me to begin reading Clark in the first place - I not only read John Robbins' book-length critique of Ayn Rand's so-called Objectivist philosophy, I bought all of her published books and read them myself. I studied her thought, not just Robbins'. 

As penetrating as Robbins' critique may have been, I wanted to make sure, among other things, that it was accurate as well as developed, two other methodological points which served to supplement my motivation and to which I will return below. Would I have had a personal interest in reading Ayn Rand were it not for an essay contest? No. But again, having a specific goal helped the cause: I wanted to write my own critique of Rand simultaneous to reviewing Robbins' book.

One thing I think is important to mention is that all of these authors mentioned thus far wrote as popularizers, which is not meant as a pejorative (just the opposite). Rand and Young wrote fiction for wide readership. Robbins and Clark wrote so that lay Christians - particularly, Reformed Christians - could understand philosophy and its importance. Their works are all relatively inexpensive. I do not know how easy it would be to invest myself in reading an author whose content, price point, or intended audience is rather specialized unless I had a natural interest in the content about which they wrote or specific purpose for reading their work in mind. 

So: do you want to learn about the sorts of things a given philosopher or theologian has to say? Do you have some definite reason for reviewing their work? Do you plan to write a book on them, talk about them with others, or synthesize some of what insight you think they have into your own belief system or life choices? Make sure your study is worth your time. 

Comprehensiveness and Patience

I didn't immediately know that I was going to study Clark as much as I have. It was due to the essay contests put forward by the TrinityFoundation that I was able to acquire some of Clark's relatively more expensive collections without having to spend a lot of money which, as a poor college student, was important. At some point, I decided that because I had already acquired so many of his books, it would be cool to have them all. 

It was convenient to not have to search hard for a bibliography of his works. At the time, the TrinityFoundation had nearly every publication I could find online. For some authors, this is not so easy. Rand only wrote a dozen or so books. Clark wrote around forty, and even though around 300 writings or transcriptions by Clark have been discovered in the past decade, many of these are short and not nearly as dense as other philosophers or theologians. 

For instance, James B. Jordan, whose work I began looking into last year, is a much more prolific writer and speaker: in a festschrift written for him, the bibliography runs approximately 25 Word document pages long, is now out of date by over 10 years, and does not adequately capture the reality that there are nearly over 1700 recordings of him (compared to the perhaps few dozen or so one can find of Clark).

Hence, studying even one philosopher or theologian can require a great deal of patience. Even before a wife and house and real job (and, in the future, kids), it took me a little less than a year to feel like I had thoroughly studied Rand's philosophy, and it took over 3 years for me to grasp Clark's thought before I really felt equal to the task of understanding him well enough to challenge and/or develop his ideas. It will take a long time for me to be able to do that with respect to Jordan. 

The mindset and approach to how one studies is as important as the study itself. Accepting that studying a philosopher or theologian can be a long-term and ongoing process is important to not feel discouraged, especially if it seems you can't quite get a proper perspective of some aspect you feel as though you should. Even now, with the release of many new articles by Clark, I find myself returning to a project (see below) I had thought was essentially complete. But the payoff is mastery, so I advise collecting as much of the person's works as you can in preparation to be thorough, then reading or listening to them once to get a sense of the general thought, and only afterwards setting yourself to the task of "studying," on which see below.

The Actual Study or Research

What helped me as I went through Clark's books after the first read was setting a goal. As I read more, I found that even in books not specifically geared towards epistemology or apologetics - the reasons I began reading him in the first place - Clark would usually make a few comments that would have some bearing on these subjects. Searching for these over time became almost like a scavenger hunt, which was what probably led me to a research project of compiling a list of his quotes relating to epistemology and apologetics. 

After my first read-through of a book, I would go back through it and skim to find and highlight certain sentences or paragraphs which I later intended to transcribe to a Word document. I only looked for statements that I found relevant to epistemology and apologetics. I worked on this for around a year, with the result being some 200+ pages of Clark quotes. I have been compiling further quotes from newly released articles by Clark over the past few years (at a much slower pace than my original project), and this has led to 350+ additional pages of quotes. There are still 30+ longer articles/transcriptions for me to review, and I anticipate 150+ more pages of quotes to include. This addendum to the original project is ongoing and will probably be another several years before completed to my satisfaction (fortunately, these writings are online, so it is not so much transcription as it is editing). Like I said, patience is a necessity.

While repeat reading and transcription probably helped to solidify Clark's thoughts in my mind, I think what helped more was beginning to apply his thinking to conversations I was having and posts I was writing. The research process I described above facilitated that by making it easy for me to search through my compilation for key words as well as reference to where and what the fuller context of those statements were (if I needed to). When someone had or has a question about Clark's views, I haven't had to work from memory: I have a searchable and quotable resource from which I can lead the questioner straight to the source.

For instance, a few years ago, there was a question in Scripturalist circles as to how Clark defined knowledge: as 1) mere true belief or 2) as [so-called] "justified" true belief. I was able to answer the question for a few people by producing multiple quotes in defense of a particular interpretation of Clark's thought (in essence, of the two choices, I believe the latter description more accurately reflects Clark's thought). Similarly, when some refer to Clark as an epistemological coherentist or externalist, I have resource to think otherwise and have argued to that effect.

Or if I have wanted to write a post on Clark's views - for example, regarding a specific apologetic argument from partial knowledge - having a full library of books at my disposal has been important, but parsing those books down into relevant and searchable portions has been indispensable. But if I had finished the project and not applied it to my any conversations or reflections, I don't know that I would have retained the information very well.

Authorial Tension, Openness to Revision, and History vs. Development

No one theologian or philosopher is perfect. In any work or collection of works, there may be errors or lacuna - the latter might even be by design, given the intended scope of a work. Further, like anyone else, philosophers and theologians can change their minds over time. Therefore, those who study them ought to be open to a revised understanding of what they taught. In his late life, Augustine wrote a whole book of reconsiderations in which he outlined points at which he had changed his mind. In the case of some authors, like Clark, new publications or anecdotes by people who knew him can also surface that can also broaden our understanding of his thought. 

Example: I remember listening to Greg Bahnsen say that in a conversation he had with Clark, Clark openly questioned the Westminster Confession's doctrine of assurance (link, minutes 50-52) due to his skepticism (at the time of the conversation) that a person could have self-knowledge. This is an anecdote you won't find in any of Clark's publications, and the anecdote illustrates the importance of reading or listening to other material than who it is being studied. It is an anecdote I have no reason to doubt; on the contrary, given that Clark wrestled with the question of self-knowledge and found himself answering it in affirmative in some publications and in the negative in others, I can easily enough believe the conversation happened as described. 

What then? Well, I affirm self-knowledge and see that Clark did too... sometimes. Such does not entail that Clark did so at all times, and as much as I or others admire Clark, we need to accept that he was sometimes wrong or did not believe everything that we may wish he did. Authorial tension and history are realities. If one finds real authorial tension or certain historical statements by an author frustrating - especially if it is someone one might consider a "hero of the faith" - I think there may be a danger in implicitly treating him as infallible. A mature Christian ought to be able to separate he believes from what an author believed or believes. 

Another example: Clark once wrote, "Science is always false, but often useful." Even when I read that for the first time, it didn't make sense. If two scientists formulate two contradictory hypotheses and, after scientific procedures, come to contradictory conclusions, one must be right and the other must be wrong. Of course, the scientific procedure of the one who is right may or may not enable that scientist to know that his hypothesis is true, but this is a separate question from whether or not the hypothesis of that scientist is itself true. So many admirers of Clark can't seem to grasp that Clark simply blundered at this point. I suspect Clark intended to say something to the effect of "Science cannot enable us to know truth." But since that isn't what he wrote at this point, the reader has to address the content of the statement as it is: false.

With that said, one can and should, as Bahnsen was, be charitable about disagreement. We can, like Bahnsen did, speculate that Clark perhaps intended something other than the face-value of the statements he made. Even when the disagreement is real and substantial, one can be kind while delivering a rebuke or rebuttal. 

But in order to improve or develop an author's thought - whether towards truth or the application of the thought to other contexts than those the author addressed - one must first have an accurate understanding of the thought as the author himself expresses it. If disagreement exists, it has to be recognized and confronted so that a better view can be proposed. This is best done only after having as full an understanding of an author's reasons for disagreement as possible, as one can then argue the contrary more effectively... or, perhaps, allow that the author's reasoning is sound and change his own mind! Either way, reading or listening to others about the same subject matter as the author being studied will tend to provide needed balance.

Summary

Have a purpose for your study.

Own all the person's works (or as many as possible).

Read and/or listen to the person normally, then skim/highlight with intention.

Consider transcribing/editing quotes of interest for use in conversation, reflective writing, etc.

Accept the possibility of tension within the author's own thought, but be charitable.

Be open to revision.

Differentiate between what the author believed or believes and what you yourself believe.

Think about how to improve the author's thought, whether towards truth or comprehensiveness.

Read other material.

Be patient, and enjoy the study.