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What's Wrong with the Ontological Argument?

Oh, come on, Anselm! You can't really prove God's existence just by having us think about "that-than-which-nothing-greater-can-be-conceived." (Part 2 of a series on St. Anselm's "ontological argument.")

Old Things are Cool

In my last article, I talked about St. Anselm's "ontological argument" for the existence of God. To review, Anselm's argument basically goes as follows:

God is that than which nothing greater can be conceived; if that-than-which-nothing-greater-can-be-conceived exists in the mind alone, then it can be thought to exist in reality also, which is greater; therefore, if that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-conceived exists in the mind alone, that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-conceived is that-than-which-a-greater-can-be-conceived; this, however, is impossible; therefore, that-than-which-a-greater-cannot-be-conceived (i.e. God) exists both in the mind and in reality.

In my last article, I also argued that Anselm's argument deserves more attention than this morning's newspaper, Dan Brown's Da Vinci Code and the like.1 You'll note that this is part of a recurring theme in Nerds' Corner articles. It's based on a theory I have: By generally avoiding the new and popular, and generally limiting oneself to the tried-and-true,2 one will, in general, avoid wasting time on the inestimable amount of ephemeral trash that fills our bookstores, airwaves, magazines, newspapers, and so forth.

It's rather easy to take a look at the [ontological] argument and dismiss it as "stupid." But as philosophers, theologians and other strange souls have found for nearly 1,000 years, saying why it's stupid isn't an easy matter at all.

Old things may be harder to relate to than the newest Dave Matthews song (is Dave still popular? I honestly don't know), but when people keep reading and re-reading the same book generation after generation, or singing/replaying the same song year after year, it's a pretty safe bet that there's something to it. Something that's distinguished it as better — more worthy of attention, repetition and reflection — than its competitors, even when its competitors are only a day or a week old and the topic of cool kids' conversations.3

So, with this in mind, back to the ontological argument. It would be hard to complete a B.A. in philosophy without reading and reflecting on it. Why do you think it continues to attract so much attention, even now, almost 1,000 years after it was written?4

Click to enlarge (Click image to enlarge.)

Nice Trick, Anselm. Gosh!

Now, let's be honest with ourselves. The ontological argument seems almost silly, doesn't it? Like one of the riddles you'd find in a book of brain-teasers. In spite of the fact that it's almost 1,000 years old and still the subject of much controversy, it's hard to imagine that it would persuade anybody. As Christian philosopher Alvin Plantinga puts it, "[a]t first sight Anselm's argument is remarkably unconvincing if not downright irritating; it looks too much like a parlor puzzle or word magic."5

Yet it has passed the test of time. Why? Perhaps, because, unlike most arguments, its real strength doesn't come to light until one tries to refute it. It's rather easy to take a look at the argument and dismiss it as "stupid." But as philosophers, theologians and other strange souls have found for nearly 1,000 years, saying why it's stupid isn't an easy matter at all.

As Plantinga goes on to say, "nearly every major philosopher from the time of Anselm to the present has had something to say about it ...
[A]lthough the argument certainly looks at first sight as if it ought to be unsound, it is profoundly difficult to say what, exactly, is wrong with it. Indeed, I do not believe that any philosopher has ever given a cogent and conclusive refutation of the ontological argument in its various forms."6

Let's take a look at one of these attempted refutations, then.

Hey Babe, Nice Island

Perhaps the most famous objection to Anselm's argument was penned by a contemporary of his, the Benedictine monk, Gaunilo of Marmoutier. The most famous portion of Gaunilo's objection goes as follows:

[T]hey say that there is in the ocean somewhere an island which, because of the difficulty (or rather the impossibility) of finding that which does not exist, some have called the "Lost Island." And the story goes that it is blessed with all manner of priceless riches and delights in abundance, much more even than the Happy Isles, and, having no owner or inhabitant, it is superior everywhere in abundance of riches to all those other lands that men inhabit. ... But ... [y]ou cannot anymore doubt that this island that is more excellent than all other lands truly exists somewhere in reality than you can doubt that it is in your mind; and since it is more excellent to exist not only in the mind alone but also in reality, therefore it must exist not only in the mind but also in reality, therefore it must needs be that it exists. For if it did not exist, any other land existing in reality would be more excellent than it, and so this island, already conceived by you to be more excellent than others, will not be more excellent.7

Now, Gaunilo's obviously not demonstrating what we 21st century English speakers would call good prose. Nevertheless, I think we can see what he's getting at.

In the above quotation, he more or less presents the following argument:

The "Lost Island" is that island than which no greater island can be conceived; if that-island-than-which-no-greater-island-can-be-conceived exists in the mind alone, then it can be thought to exist in reality also, which is greater; therefore, if that-island-than-which-a-greater-island-cannot-be-conceived exists in the mind alone, then that-island-than-which-a-greater-island-cannot-be-conceived is that-island-than-which-a-greater-island-can-be-conceived; this, however, is impossible; therefore, that-island-than-which-a-greater-island-cannot-be-conceived (i.e. the "Lost Island") exists both in the mind and in reality. (See Figure 1.)
Figure 1: The Lost Island

Gaunilo then goes on to say, "If ... someone wishes thus to persuade me that this island really exists beyond all doubt, I should either think that he was joking, or I should find it hard to decide which of us I ought to judge the bigger fool — I, if I agree with him, or he, if he thought that he had proved the existence of this island ... ."8 And so too with respect to the existence of God and the ontological argument, thinks Gaunilo; if the ontological argument proves the existence of God, then arguments like this can prove the existence of any variety of absurd thing.

Philosophers and Hammer Salesmen

Gaining recognition for an argument requires the same strategy as outselling your opponents in (for example) the hammer-supply business. If you want to sell a lot of hammers, you must not only convince people that they need hammers, you must convince people that only your hammer will do the job. And if you want to gain recognition for refuting the ontological argument, you must not only convince people that the ontological argument doesn't work, you must convince people that everybody else's objection to it fails. This way, everybody will know that the ontological argument needs to be objected to and that only your objection will do. You'll have a monopoly on the market.

This is at least in part why so many of the ontological argument's critics have also published criticism of Gaunilo's objection to the ontological argument. But anyway, all that's beside the point. Between my last article and this one, you hopefully thought about the ontological argument and (perhaps) formulated some objection to it. (If you didn't, then hopefully you didn't just dismiss it as stupid without being able to say why.)

What's Next

C O F F E E  S H O P

If you come up with anything interesting, make sure to
start a discussion!

In the conclusion to this three-part series, I talk a bit about Anselm's response to Gaunilo's argument and share Plantinga's objection to it. Between now and then, my hope is that you'll have something smart to say both about Anselm and Gaunilo: why Anselm's argument doesn't work; why Gaunilo's doesn't either; how Anselm can strengthen his argument against Gaunilo's objection; what Gaunilo could have put differently to strengthen his own argument, and so forth.



Notes
  1. After reading The Da Vinci Code, I wished I had been asked to write one of the blurbs for the back cover of the book. Mine would have said, "Literally unbelievable." Back^
  2. As a complete aside, note that there are interesting resemblances between the term "tried-and-true" (coined in the late 18th century — about 65 years before The Origin of Species) and the Darwinian terms "adaptive" and "fit to survive." Back^
  3. Our Scriptures come to mind here, don't they? Upon reflecting on the fact that the newestbooks of the Bible are almost 2,000 years old and still shape the lives of millions and millions of people, even the most belligerent non-Christian/non-Jew would have to admit that the 66 books that make up the Bible are among the most tried-and-true things ever written. In my mind, this also suggests that one can't rationallydismiss the authority of the Bible unless one can answer the question "how could a false document ring true for billions of people from different cultures, and different social and economic classes, for thousands and thousands of years?" Back^
  4. Before you move on to the next section, note that Micah and Denise have raised two significant objections to my "tried-and-true = good, new = bad" theory. Objections conceded. Instead of making corrections based on these objections, however, I've left things as they are in hopes that you, the reader, will head to the Old things are cool discussion in the Coffee Shop and tell the world how wrong, wrong, wrong, my theory is. Back^
  5. Plantinga's actually one of my heroes, and I'll be mentioning him often in Nerds' Corner. The quote here comes from a book of his that I'd recommend highly: God, Freedom and Evil(Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 1974), page 85. Back^
  6. Ibid. pages 85 and 86. ("Ibid," by the way, tells the reader that the writer is referring to the same book as he/she referred to in the previous footnote.) Back^
  7. See page 109 of "Pro Insipiente (On Behalf of the Fool)," in Anselm of Canterbury: The Major Works (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998), edited by Brian Davies and G. R. Evans. Back^
  8. Ibid. Back^
About the author
Blake Roeber is a graduate student in philosophy at Northern Illinois University, but not for long. After completing his MA in the spring of '08, he'll start a PhD in philosophy at Rutgers.


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