Imagine someone tells you that somewhere beneath the surface of Pluto
there's a tiny werewalrus that sends them psychic messages every midnight
... while juggling skulls on an indigo plinth.
You ask for evidence, but they respond by saying, "You can't prove me wrong!"
Investigating this claim would be beyond the limits of current technology.
But does that mean we therefore have good reason to take this person's claim seriously?
What if we adopted this approach whenever we wanted to establish a factual claim?
We could spend lifetimes coming up with countless fantastic claims
there's no practical way of investigating
dismissing any scepticism with a mindless chorus of "You can't prove me wrong!"
What if encyclopaedias were filled with lists of claims that were given factual status
merely because, even though no evidence was produced to support them
no one could prove them false?
But of course, we don't compile books like that.
We're not obliged to accept or take seriously every claim we can't prove false.
And something that helps to save us from spending unnecessary time and energy
on claims that have no merit is the burden of proof.
When someone makes a factual claim
the obligation lies with them to support their claim;
it is not the obligation of the sceptic to prove the claim false.
Many who make supernatural existence claims
try to avoid this basic next step of supporting their claim.
For example, when asked to give 'a case for God' in an exchange on US television
evangelical pastor Douglas Wilson denied his burden of proof.
When asked "Who do you think carries the burden of proof?"
Wilson replied, "I believe the one who denies the self-evident fact that God exists."
But this reply is so flawed that it's incoherent.
If everyone agreed it was self- evident that Wilson's god existed
there would be no one denying it!
Divine existence is the very thing being disputed
and evidence is what Wilson has yet to produce.
He can't stampede us into accepting the very thing he needs to establish
simply by declaring it to be 'self-evident'.
Wilson claims as fact that a god exists
and it's this act of claim-making that saddles him with the burden of proof.
It's revealing that Wilson also said in this exchange
that much of the debate about divine existence has to do with
what he called "scrambling for the high ground of who has to do the proving".
It may feel like scrambling to Wilson, but in fact the issue is clear-cut.
When Wilson chooses to make the bold claim that a god exists, he has to do the proving.
He can't shift his burden of proof to his opponent.
"Well if God didn't create the universe, what did?"
Questions like this are examples of another common form of burden-shifting.
The underlying implication is that if the sceptic
can't explain just how our universe came to be
then the idea that a god created it somehow wins by default.
But that's not how it works.
Answers involving supernatural beings don't get a free pass.
They must be substantiated like any other candidate answer.
And even if divine answers to this question were acceptable
monotheism would have to jostle with a potentially limitless variety of polytheisms.
The very notion that a question as complex and involved as this
has a default answer (other than "I don't know") is misguided.
Learning about our universe takes time and disciplined work
so demanding that everything has an explanation NOW is an untenable position
and inserting supernatural beings into the inevitable gaps in our current knowledge
commits the fallacy of arguing from ignorance.
Furthermore, plenty of everyday examples show us that not knowing a specific answer
doesn't prevent us eliminating alternatives.
One reason we eliminate supernatural answers is that they lack explanatory power.
Saying a god created our universe doesn't explain how it was created.
And poetic metaphors are no more illuminating.
Saying a god 'speaks' things into creation, for example
doesn't explain how divine speech results in creation.
Gods and poetry get us no closer to the process we're actually interested in.
They only push the question further back, while the actual process remains unknown.
And this is ultimately what so-called divine explanations give us:
"I don't know" hidden under a supernatural wrapping.
Remove the wrapping and we get an honourable answer.
Rejecting inadequate answers doesn't automat- ically oblige us to know the actual answer.
Rejecting divine pseudo- explanations doesn't mean
we have to know everything about the universe.
Some insist that, "Saying you don't have a belief
in any god because of the absence of evidence
isn't good enough - you must give an argument for divine non-existence."
Or, more emphatically:
"Failing to give arguments for non-existence is virtually to concede the debate
to the person who at least gives some arguments, however weak, for divine existence."
But we can easily show this is false.
Let's imagine that debate.
A gives some arguments for the position that a god exists.
B, A's opponent, gives no arguments for divine non-existence.
However, what B does during the debate is show that all of A's arguments are invalid.
What is the outcome of this exchange?
Far from having to concede the debate, B has shown that A has no case.
The significant result is that we're left with no reason to believe that A's god exists.
Crucially, at the end of the debate, B has no reason to change position
but A, lacking valid justification, does.
The sceptic doesn't 'owe' the claim- maker arguments for non-existence.
The burden lies with the claim- maker to present an adequate case.
If they fail to do so, their claim fails.
It can certainly be an advantage for the sceptic to have a well-reasoned position.
Acquainting oneself with the stock arguments for divine existence, for example
provides useful illustrations of flawed reasoning
if one wants to learn some of the traps to avoid when constructing valid arguments.
But the sceptic is not obliged to waste her time preparing non-existence arguments
for any supernatural claim that might come her way.
The monotheist may be so deeply embedded in his belief
that he fails to appreciate how bizarre it can seem from the outside.
But to the non-believer, the claim of a divine creator
is often just one of a potentially limitless ragbag of ideas
we have no good reason to give credence to.
Debates about divine existence
have been characterised as "a game played with two different rules"
with the complaint that "theism can be critiqued while non-belief remains invincible".
In fact, there's only one rule:
When you choose to make a claim in debate, you give yourself a burden of proof.
If you claim that a god exists, and shouldering that burden is too much for you
it's always within your power to withdraw your claim.
But trying to imply there's a double standard
because your claim naturally attracts criticism from people
who see no evidence to support it, is playing the victim.
The real double standard
is expecting someone who's made no claim to bear your burden of proof.
Those who feel frustrated that theistic arguments fail
might do better asking *why* they fail.
Perhaps one of the most transparent attempts to shift the burden of proof
comes from theists who, in debate, re-phrase their position
as 'lacking belief in the non-existence of gods'.
Trying to convert a claim into a non- claim by aping the sceptic's position
doesn't magically rid a disputed concept of the need for justification.
For the theist who goes to these lengths to try to avoid the burden of proof
one has to wonder about their strength of conviction.
If there are sound, solid reasons for believing in supernatural beings
why not simply lay out those reasons
instead of wasting time with this curious denial dance?
If a scientist speaking at a conference, complained about the unfairness
of having to present evidence for their claims, they'd empty the auditorium.
But in the realm of supernatural claims
we consistently encounter people who are reluctant, even indignant
when reminded of their burden of proof.
In many ways, this isn't surprising.
The expectation of evidence is kryptonite to claims that lack sufficient support.
People who pretend to be psychic have developed an arsenal of smoke and mirror tactics
to fend off critical questions.
For centuries, certain religions have contrived to demonize questions
and, in the process, developed a skewed complacency about not answering them.
But today, increasingly, we understand that there's no valid basis
for letting supernatural claims escape justification
and we see through institutions that forbid or evade questions
that declare themselves unaccountable.
We're rightly critical of them and we expect and demand better.
If certain groups, over the centuries, have grown accustomed
to not substantiating their claims
so that they regard the mere suggestion as impudent
the way we resolve that is not by letting them remain accustomed
to dismissing their burden of proof
but by pointing out that they were at fault for growing so accustomed in the first place.
Supernatural claims that have thrived historically
by submerging themselves in mystery
are now more than ever, in the information age
being fished out into the glare of rigorous enquiry.
And they're suffering in their new, alien environment.
Their old tricks aren't so effective on the more critical modern mind.
Booming threats don't cow us into obedience as in years gone by.
Too many of us know what's going on behind the curtain.
In greater and greater numbers, we're out- growing the long intellectual stagnation
of humankind's superstitious adolescence
and we're exposing supernatural claims
that have bluffed and bullied their way into a position of unearned respect.
They deserve no reverence
and should be processed with no more ceremony than any other claim.
Clearly, demanding evidence for every statement uttered would make interaction impossible.
But those who make bold supernatural claims
should get used to owning their burden of proof.
In science, owning a burden of proof is routine
because it's understood by those who observe scientific principles
that claims require justification.
It's expected that authors of scientific papers will explain their reasoning and evidence.
And it's common for this to be done not grudgingly but enthusiastically.
If we're interested in holding justified beliefs
finding out which claims have valid support and which don't
is something to embrace, not avoid.
It's when we stake our egos, hopes or identities on specific claims
that we create needless problems
because anything that then threatens the claim also threatens us.
The burden of proof becomes threatening
because having to justify the claim risks discovering that we can't do so.
In this way, our ability to assess the claim becomes fatally undermined
by a personal need for it to be true, whether or not it has valid support.
If, on the other hand, we commit ourselves not to specific claims
but to refining knowledge, we can watch claims gather support or collapse
without the burden of proof posing any personal threat.
Meeting a burden of proof isn't always easy
but without this mechanism
without people volunteering, "Here's my new idea and the evidence to support it"
our education would be at a standstill.
Fortunately, a long history of genuine contributors to education
haven't been so unforthcoming.
Supernatural claim-makers who think they're somehow exempt
from the standards that apply to other claim-makers are mistaken
and, in an increasingly educated world, their special pleading
will only see them being left behind in the darkness of past ignorance
where many of their claims originated.
Extraordinary claims have an inescapable burden of proof.
When those who make extraordinary claims
don't, for whatever reason, take their burden of proof seriously
they relieve us of the burden of taking their CLAIM seriously.