Does God exist? I don’t think so. But can we prove that?
Proving that God doesn’t exist—or, more generally, that no supernatural beings exist—is impossible as far as I can tell. An omniscient being wanting to remain hidden would succeed. That’s a game of hide and seek we could never win.
To see what we can say about God, let’s look for parallels in how we handle other beings not acknowledged by science—Bigfoot, the Loch Ness monster, space aliens, leprechauns, fairies, or Merlin the shape-shifting wizard. Any evidence in favor of these beings is sketchy, far too little to conclude that they exist. Do we reserve judgment? Do we say that the absence of evidence is no evidence of absence? Of course not. There’s plenty of evidence (or lack of evidence) to make a strong provisional case. In fact, in common parlance we say that these things don’t exist.
While we’re at it, note the error in the adage “absence of evidence is no evidence of absence.” Of course it’s evidence! Absence of evidence is no proof of absence, but it can certainly be strong evidence. If you’ve spent five minutes poking through that drawer looking for your keys and still can’t find them, that’s pretty strong evidence of their absence.
Note also the difference in the claim that Bigfoot doesn’t exist versus the claim that God doesn’t exist. Science has been blindsided by new animals in the past. The gorilla, coelacanth, okapi, and giant squid were all surprises, and Bigfoot could be another. After all, Bigfoot is just another animal and we know of lots of animals. But the very category of the Christian claim is a problem. Science recognizes zero supernatural beings.
As definitively as science says that Bigfoot doesn’t exist, how much more definitively can science say that God doesn’t exist when the category itself is hypothetical? Perhaps more conclusively, what about the claim that a god exists who desperately wants to be known to his creation, as is the case for the Christian god?
Let’s be careful to remember the limitations on the claim, “God doesn’t exist.” Science is always provisional. Any claim could be wrong—from matter being made of atoms to disease being caused by germs. As Austin Cline said in “Scientifically, God Does Not Exist,” a scientific statement “X doesn’t exist” is shorthand for the more precise statement:
This alleged entity has no place in any scientific equations, plays no role in any scientific explanations, cannot be used to predict any events, does not describe any thing or force that has yet been detected, and there are no models of the universe in which its presence is either required, productive, or useful.
The Christian may well respond to science’s caution, “Well, if you’re not certain, I am!” But, of course, confidence isn’t the same as accuracy. This bravado falls flat without dramatic evidence to back it up.
Now, back to the original question, Does God exist? Does this look like a world with a god in it? If God existed, shouldn’t that be obvious? What we see instead is a world in which believers are forced to give excuses for why God isn’t present.
Or, let’s imagine the opposite—a world without God. This would be a world where praying for something doesn’t increase its likelihood; where faith is necessary to mask the fact that God’s existence is not apparent; where no loving deity walks beside you in adversity; where far too many children live short and painful lives because of malnutrition, abuse, injury, or birth defects; and where there is only wishful thinking behind the ideas of heaven and hell.
Look around, because that’s the world you’re living in.
But this isn’t an anarchist’s paradise; it’s a world where people live and love and grow, and where every day ordinary people do heroic and noble things for the benefit of strangers. Where warm spring days and rosy sunsets aren’t made by God but explained by Science, and where earthquakes happen for no good reason and people strive to leave the world a better place than it was when they entered it. God isn’t necessary to explain any of this. Said another way, there is no functional difference between a world with a hidden god and one with no god.
Listen closely to Christian apologists and you’ll see that they admit the problem. The typical apologetic approach is to:
- make deist arguments (for example, the existence of morality or design demands a deity to create it)
- argue that this deity is the Christian god rather than the god of some other religion.
Mr. Apologist, are your deist arguments convincing? If so, you should be a deist, not a Christian. And why is the first step necessary? It’s because the Christian god is functionally nonexistent—you admit this yourself.
The God hypothesis isn’t necessary. God has no measurable impact on the universe, and science needn’t sit on the sidelines. There is enough evidence to render a judgment.
We apparently have natural disasters whether there is one god, 20 gods, or no god. Prayers are answered with the same likelihood whether you pray to Zeus, the Christian god, or a jug of milk. Religion is what you invent when you don’t have Science.
Can we say that anything doesn’t exist? With certainty, probably not. But with the confidence that we can say that anything doesn’t exist—leprechauns, fairies, or Merlin the wizard—we can say that God doesn’t.
The universe we observe has precisely the properties we should expect
if there is, at bottom,
no design, no purpose, no evil and no good,
nothing but blind, pitiless indifference.
— Richard Dawkins
Photo credit: Philosophy Monkey
- God is as Believable as Unicorns
- Other posts in the God Doesn’t Exist series
- August Cline, “Scientifically, God Does Not Exist: Science Allows us to Say God Does Not Exist,” About.com.
I believe we CAN say with certainty that the god named God does not exist, because of the outrageous claims made on his behalf. He is claimed to have ultimate characteristics in knowledge, power, physical presence, and love (respectively omniscience, omnipotence, omnipresence, and omnibenevolence). This is a logical impossibility. You can always pit one of those characteristics against another, and one of them must lose. Can God change his mind? Yes? Then either he didn’t know everything to begin with or he’s fallen away from the truth now. No? Then he’s not all-powerful, is he? Can he hide from himself? Can he make a rock so heavy he can’t lift it? If he loves everyone and can fix anything, why are there crack babies?
You see the problem? The braggarts got so carried away with what hot stuff their favorite imaginary friend was that they pretty much defined him out of existence.
This is an angle I didn’t explore, but I’m glad you pointed this out.
I’ve heard apologists try to wriggle out of the rock-so-heavy problem by saying that God is bound by logic. He can’t make a rock so heavy that he couldn’t lift it because that would be an illogically formed claim. God can’t make a married bachelor. He can’t make a square circle.
But then they lose the Transcendental Argument. They reinstate the Euthyphro dilemma, with God being bound by an external logic. God is no longer the creator of logic, so their transcendental challenges (“OK, smart guy, where do you think your logic comes from? It comes from God! Gotcha!”) fails.
My favorite response I’ve ever seen to the “Can God create a rock so heavy that even he can’t lift it,” dilemma is this: Yes, he can. But since he is God, he can then lift it anyway. It’s not paradoxical because he’s God, and God can do anything, even things that are impossible. By that logic, he can also create a married bachelor or a square circle. Because he’s God, and God’s just awesome that way.
“By that logic, he can also create a married bachelor or a square circle.”
But, of course, that’s NOT logic. It’s wishful thinking.
The paragon of unneastrndidg these issues is right here!