Where Are Your Tools?

Quick Links: Introduction, Atomic Vision, Conclusion And Orthodox Practicability

Introduction

A Christian says Christ’s resurrection is attested to by eyewitnesses. An Atheist replies that the Christian never personally saw it, so they should not believe it. The Christian replies to that by saying the Atheist never personally saw an atom under a microscope. The Atheist then replies, “but I could.”

I have found myself in discourse like this. I have seen others in this conversation. I would go as far to say this is a pretty common dialogue tree when venturing into the realm of apologetics. I want to further the conversation, taking inspiration from Michael Polanyi.

The reply back to the Atheist is generally something like, “but you haven’t,” or a quiet concession of the point. Sometimes the conversation goes down the path of how the Atheist is relying on faith that scientists correctly report the atom, but I find it usually fizzles out. The conversation generally resumes back to “but I could see it, theoretically.”

I think that this conversation fizzling out is a symptom of our limp-wristedness. This argument is truly gold and works in our favour — we just haven’t dissected and analyzed it enough to understand its value. Let’s walk through that together.

Atomic Vision

The argument hinges on the “I could” of the Atheist. Let’s bracket the reliance on faith and other branches of discussion — those will be mentioned in due time — and focus instead on that potential for seeing an atom. If we defeat the argument that they could hypothetically see an atom, we will walk down a broadening street of analytic potential.

Could you go and see an atom? I’m really not so sure. First and foremost, you would have to find a space to conduct such an experiment. I suppose this could be done by renting a laboratory. Great. But who can feasibly do this? Furthermore, how about the use of the scientific instruments in the lab? Are we to assume that a complete layman with no scientific degree or practical experience whatsoever would both be able to and know how to use an instrument? And complicating this, why assume that they would know how to use it without breaking it? This is a hidden proposition on behalf of the Atheist: laymen and those with no training or knowledge would be able to wander into a lab and know how to operate highly complex machinery. I think this falls flat on its face; for what is the point of the education and learning how to operate instruments that scientists undergo? Why do we divide scientific labour in the first place if it is supposedly so easy and accessible?

As we can see, it is not possible to go and look at an atom. But let’s steelman the argument and admit somehow that the above can be done. Say we admit the point that your average person could walk in and perform analysis using scientific instrumentation. What do we think would happen if he discovered something that contradicts scientific consensus? Are we to assume that he is wrong? Surely this is the default position, and it would seem right to say so; for why would we assume (1) that he knows he has found a contradiction, (2) that someone so untrained was able to find one, and most importantly, (3), he has found something that the entire scientific community — made up of highly trained professionals — has overlooked.

The third point is truly the crux of the argument. In our hypothetical, do we not make an appeal to authority? We do this whenever an argument against scientific consensus arises in the real world, so this is not restricted to our hypothetical. We make a silent pivot to taking the voice of scientific consensus as authoritative over our truth-seeking average person. This proves that even if the average person pokes a hole in general scientific consensus we are more comfortable and likely to take the side of science than that of the average person. We, in other words, do not actually care if we could “look ourselves.” We have a deep trust of authority, and will not throw out our already existing conceptions even if we are the ones that saw the contradiction through the microscope.

Let’s pause here. I don’t actually think an appeal to authority is necessarily wrong. As in, if we understand it as being “these people claim to have seen X, let’s trust them; though they are not correct just because they are authority.” I want to further consolidate and review the ground we have gained by fetching this far deep.

Realistically speaking, the average person could not rent a lab and then figure out how to use ultrapowerful microscopes to view the atom and then know how to interpret what he sees and then know how to draw a conclusion. But even if we grant that they could, we certainly don’t find ourselves on the side of the average person’s findings; rather, we are very secure taking the established authority’s consensus as being veracious rather than the average person’s finding.

This means that the move of saying “but I could” is not a valid one. And we can further illustrate our point. How could one possibly get the raw images from the James Webb telescope? Can he go and rent the NASA offices for a few moments and send them to his friends? How can he prove the existence of the James Webb? Can he spot the telescope in the night’s sky? Obviously not! Can he go and do the same for climate data or chemical formulations or the Large Hadron Collider? An emphatic “No!”

Therefore, we Christians can reply, “no, you cannot just go and do it.” Certain events and certain findings can never be replicated, and certain tools required for those findings can never be accessed.

Funnily, this brings us back to our starting point. The Atheist, thinking his potential for replication defeats the Christian argument, has simply set up a parallel religious community.

We need to do a “brass tacks” analysis of the situation. If the Atheist falls back onto “but I could” we have still gained significant ground. For they proudly admit that they haven’t seen the thing they speak about. The significance of this admission is that they admit their beliefs are based on the authority of another man’s voice. They admit they have not seen the atom, but they believe in it because someone else ordained in the scientific community said so. This is inarguably a faithful act; and it is worth understanding it as such. Thus, a parallel religious community is formed.

Again, I don’t think there’s anything irrational about trusting others. What I think is irrational is the Atheist allowing faith only for their religious community. Indeed, this is how we share knowledge: some have certain experiences, share those experiences, and others are free to choose to believe what they want about it — but none are justified in picking and choosing which side is free to follow this process, and none are justified in doubting this process.

Conclusion and Orthodox Practicability

To conclude, because we have found and demonstrated that they cannot “just go and look,” they lose the wind out of their argument’s sails. “You can go and look?,” we say, “Where are your tools?”

We have found that the rebuttal “but I could” silently pivots to accepting someone else’s findings based on their authority and community conferral; and this is an act of faith. Therefore, their reply is a win for the Christian position.

The Orthodox practicability lies in this: if we ourselves know these things about the scientific institution, it stops looking like such a behemoth. This provides us with some feelings of security and assurance. I think this line of argumentation is typically not fleshed out. For some reason, we leave it and allow the Atheist’s objection to remain as the last word. But we shouldn’t — at least not in our own hearts. We can legitimately say they have formed a religious community founded on faith and not on direct eyewitness account of its followers.

We can allow this to drive better discourse with people. We should not be argumentative, but we should be informed of what we are talking about so that we can perhaps better reach and communicate with people. If we have our arsenal loaded with well thought through arguments, it is more likely that we can speak the truth in love to people.

The next time we encounter such dialogue, we can always politely ask, “Where are your tools?”