Look, it might very well be that belief in god is ridiculous. But I don't think that can be shown
with silly examples like Russell's teapot...or this guy right here. Stick around and I'll make my
case. Then let me know in the comments whether you agree. Imagine a teapot floating through space;
a teapot so small it can't be detected by our most powerful telescopes. It's a famous example from
philosopher Bertrand Russell, and if you're familiar with the Flying Spaghetti Monster,
it's roughly a popular internet version of the same idea. And what exactly is the idea? Well,
we can't prove there's no teapot out there—outer space is too big and the teapot too small.
But that doesn't mean there *is* a teapot out there. That's a confusion about how evidence
works. And if you are asking me to believe there's a Flying Spaghetti Monster, well,
it's up to you to give persuasive reasons, not my job to prove you wrong...
that's just how argumentation works. Now all this is good stuff, the sort of thing you might learn
in a basic critical thinking course. But these elementary points about evidence and argument
are not what make Russell's teapot famous or made the Flying Spaghetti Monster ubiquitous online.
The reason they're popular is because they've been used as arguments against belief in God.
The idea seems to be that belief in god is like believing in Russell's teapot...in
other words, kind of ridiculous. The argument often seems to go something like this:
there is no evidence god exists, so you should think the probability of god is laughably low.
Now I don't want to challenge this premise. It could be challenged but that would take us in a
whole different direction. My question is this: Even if it's true there's no evidence for God,
how exactly would that show that God's probability is laughably low? This is where the analogies
usually come into play. For example, there is no reason to think Russell's teapot exists,
so you should think the probability of Russell's Teapot is laughably low. Now you *should* think
the probability of Russell's Teapot is laughably low, but here's the crucial mistake: it's not
exactly the lack of evidence that should make you think the teapot is unlikely. That's a confusion
about how probability works. For example, let's say a minute ago I spun a coin on a table.
Question: what do you think the odds are that it came up heads? Now there's a lot of evidence
that could help you with this; for instance, if I *told* you it came up heads, or if you *saw* it
land heads with your own eyes. In that case, you should think the probability is very high indeed.
But what if you had no evidence—zero reason to think the coin landed heads?
Would you think: There is no reason to think the coin came up heads, so I should think
the probability of heads is laughably low. Of course not. You should think the odds are 50 50.
Okay, now change the example. Let's say you're dealt a single card from a full standard deck.
You have not looked at your card yet, so you have zero evidence that it's a red king.
Think about it: would you say the odds of having a red king are about as low as a teapot floating
through space? Or would you say the odds are closer to that of a coin coming up heads?
Well, in fact, the probability of a red king is 3.8 percent. But even if you're
terrible at math and you weren't able to pin down anything close to the exact odds, I bet it was
still obvious to you that a red king is a *lot* more probable than a teapot floating in space,
and a *lot* more probable than the existence of a Flying Spaghetti Monster. Here's something else I
bet was obvious to you: getting a red king is a lot *less* probable than a coin coming up heads.
Do you see the point? When you have zero evidence for something, you shouldn't just conclude that
the probability is very low. That's a mistake. Nor should you conclude that the odds are 50/50.
That's a mistake, too. When there's no evidence in play, the probability you should assign something
just depends on what it is. This is called "prior probability". In other words, the probability you
give something prior to considering the evidence. The prior probability you assign something
just depends on that thing. If you have no reason to believe the coin landed heads,
then you should assign it 50/50 odds because you have no evidence to go on except what you
know about coins. But in the case of drawing a red king, you should think there's a 3.8 chance. Not
because you have any evidence about what you've been dealt—you haven't looked yet!— but just
because of what you know about decks of cards. So back to Russell's Teapot. You should think
the probability of a teapot floating in space is laughably low, but now you can see it's not
the lack of evidence that should make you think that. Rather, it's the low prior probability.
Our background knowledge contains all kinds of facts about teapots; for instance, that they
are typically made by humans and that humans are not in the habit of shooting teapots into space.
So, yeah, we should assign Russell's Teapot a laughably low probability,
but that's because of what we already know about teapots and outer space.
It's not the lack of evidence. Same goes for the Flying Spaghetti Monster. You should think the
probability of this Noodly Being is laughably low. But it has nothing to do with lack of evidence.
It's because of the low prior probability. When we just think about what a Flying Spaghetti Monster
is—in all its parmesan crusted glory—our background knowledge tells us that such a Pasta
Being would not have the aerodynamic properties required for flight, or the chemical properties
required for organic life. In other words, we already know, even before considering the evidence
for or against this Saucy Being, that we should assign its existence a laughably low probability.
So we've arrived at the crucial question: is Russell's Teapot and God a good analogy? Or put
it this way: Should we assign God's existence a laughably low probability, in the absence of
evidence, just like we do the Flying Spaghetti Monster? I say no. And here's why. Just like in
the case of the red king or the spinning coin, the prior probability of God is a matter of thinking
about the thing itself in the context of our background knowledge. So let's think about God.
God is said to be a non-physical personal being of great power and goodness. Is there anything in our
background knowledge to make us think the chances of such a being would be laughably low? Well, no
not in any obvious, straightforward way, at least. Notice the difference: when it comes to Russell's
Teapot and the Flying Spaghetti Monster it's easy to see why we should start with a laughably
low probability. But it's not easy to see why we should do the same with God. At least, the
people who put forward this kind of argument never make clear why we should assign God a laughably
low probability. It always just kind of seems to be assumed, based on the lack of evidence.
You might be thinking, "Oh come on now! Science has given us all kinds of background knowledge
that implies a laughably low probability for God. But science is the study of physical reality and
believers in God never said God is a physical thing in space and time. On the contrary, the
claim has always been that God is uniquely unique, a non-physical thing, or maybe not a thing at all,
and not bound by space and time. So it's hard to see how our scientific background knowledge,
on its own, should make us assign a laughably low probability to God even before weighing up
the evidence for and against. Or maybe you're thinking, "Whoa, whoa, whoa! If there's one
thing about my background knowledge I'm sure of, it's that pain exists. Suffering exists. And that
makes the existence of God highly unlikely. Look, you'll get no complaint from me here. The argument
from evil is a powerful argument. But notice it's an argument. In other words, pointless evil seems
to be evidence against God. If we're going to explore the evidence for and against God,
then let's go! I'm all in favor of people entering into thoughtful, rational discussion,
offering reasons for what they believe. That's philosophy. And I never said the argument from
evil is a lousy argument. I'm saying Russell's Teapot is a lousy argument. And so is the Flying
Spaghetti Monster. Why? Because they are burden of proof arguments. They attempt to show that
even before we get down to the hard philosophical work of weighing the evidence, you should think
God's probability is laughably low, supposedly because the odds of Russell's Teapot and the
Flying Spaghetti Monster are laughably low. And I guess by analogy we're supposed to assume that God
is the same. But what I've tried to show here is it's a bad analogy. It rests on a confusion about
prior probability. So here's my advice, for what it's worth. If you are critical of belief in God,
don't make shifty arguments about burden of proof. Instead, just get down to the business of
making your rational case against God —there's plenty to work with! And if you're a theist,
don't underestimate the problem of evil. It's a hell of a problem that every believer in God
should take seriously. Unlike floating teapots and flying spaghetti monsters. So that's it
everybody. Hope you enjoyed this one. Let me know in the comments whether you think my criticisms
were fair. Somebody asked me on a review of this video, "So Timothy, you never came out and said
what you think God's prior probability should be." I would say that either it's inscrutable
or that we should start with a prior probability of 50/50 odds. I think that's what I would say,
but what would you say? Again, let me know in the comments and thanks for viewing.