True Religious Belief is Impossible
Religious worship in the US is dying a slow, justified death in recent decades, but those who profess a religious belief are still a powerful political force and their views should be rejected.
Billions of people on planet Earth profess to hold a religious belief of some kind. They are mistaken.
To put it succinctly, god cannot exist because an affirmed belief in god is impossible. You do not actually believe in god. You might wish you did, you might find the idea of widespread belief beneficial politically, you might be grateful for the social capital it grants you, but you do not, and cannot, actually believe.
As residents of the observable world, we are limited and molded by its particulars. We do not exist outside of it or in surplus of it—we exist, learn, and grow within the parameters of the mundane, and we could not exist in any realm which is too dissimilar. Take a human being who was born on Earth some time in the last 100 years and ask to them experience heaven, hell, or limbo, and they would at first be unable to grasp perfection, limitlessness, or immortality. These concepts are analogous to a square circle, an object that cannot exist because it is self-contradictory given the physical rules that govern our universe. The impossibility of a square circle does not invalidate the concepts of “square” or “circle,” and neither does its hypothetical conceptualization invalidate the rules of the universe. On the other hand, if someone actually produced a square circle, one of three things would need to have happened: 1) the definition of “square” or “circle” changed, 2) the rules of geometry changed in such a way that basic measurements don’t apply anymore, 3) a standard human observer of the universe was granted special powers that allows them to behold something supernatural or self-contradictory. In order for a belief in god to be real, a religious worshipper would have to have undergone a process similar the third outcome, experiencing what they might call an awakening or nirvana state but which in reality would have to be lasting rather than temporary, all-encompassing, and somehow consistent with other observations, which is an impossible outcome.
As residents of this universe, we orient ourselves in a particular way by observing and learning. A natural growth, fostered equally by biological instinct and the lessons of our parents, leads to a form of knowing which is based strictly on naturalistic reason. This naturalistic reason is also atheistic reason, because it treats as irrelevant any unobserved phenomenon, such as god. In and of itself, this does not prove that unobserved phenomena cannot exist, only that prior to their observation it is prudent not to alter the baseline belief or to even conceive of the myriad possibilities outside of rational disaster preparedness—under naturalistic reason, for example, one could expand energy in order to build a spear which could be used to fend off large wild animals, even if none have been observed in a particular environment because they are known to exist elsewhere; naturalistic reason, however, would not lead one to begin slaughtering family members on the off chance that they are possessed by malignant spirits (large wild animals exist by observation even if they are not an imminent threat; malignant spirits do not). As neither spirits nor gods have been credibly observed, it is wise from a survival perspective to act as though they do not exist. This in and of itself does not prove that demons and gods cannot exist, only that they are irrelevant until they somehow make themselves known.
On the other hand, what would naturalistic reason do with an unobserved and unobservable phenomenon? In order to disprove god, we must prove two very simple things: that naturalistic reason is reflective of reality, and that god is indeed unobservable. If naturalistic reason is perhaps not correct, then god might potentially exist by some other mode of knowing (this is essentially the form of solipsistic argument which calls into question the reliability of scientific observations, or argues that square circles can exist); if god is perhaps observable, then the deity might potentially exist by the naturalistic mode of knowing (this is the form of theistic argument which finds evidence of god’s existence in mundane observations, such as the existence of life in the universe or observed “miracles”).
In order to prove the former, we must eliminate all other possible methods of knowing. Only solipsism (the idea that all we can truly know is our own existence, and therefore the observable world is potentially not truly reflective what we are experiencing, and we might instead be residing in another form of reality in which our true selves are under persistent delusion, such as in Plato’s Cave allegory) allows for the existence of non-naturalistic (or mystical) reason. In summation, consider a brain in a vat scenario in which we are experiencing one world, but the true universe the brain inhabits has different rules which allow for the observable existence of god. If we were to awaken into this world, it would seem to follow that we might be able to interact with square circles or gods. Invalidate mystical reason as a possibility, on the other hand, and naturalistic reason is the only remaining alternative; prove that heaven does not exist, and all that remains is the observable.
This solipsistic scenario is impossible however because we cannot so much as reside within a world which contains modes of mystical reason—some set of rules must also govern the universe in which the brain truly resides. By “mystical reason,” we mean such impossibilities as are taken to be the strict privilege of the gods; an object which is both square and circular, for example, is impossible for us to understand, given that within this universe these two attributes cannot coexist and our inborn rationality is defined by this. Presuming that in some godly realm there reside beings which can perceive a square circle does not argue that we as human beings would ever be able to perceive it, even after we awaken into the “true” universe. A hypothetical in which a human is asked to manipulate such an object would be short, even with the intervention of an all-powerful deity—it is often said that a hypothetical deity could perform logically meaningless or impossible activities in order to preserve its theoretical omnipotence, as in the classic hypothetical about stones so large that even god could not lift them. God is defined by its illogical powers, so it would have no problem creating that stone and then lifting it, any non-god observer would be unable to comprehend what had just happened though. In and of itself, the contradictory nature of god’s powers does not prove it cannot exist, only that in order to communicate these powers with us, one of two scenarios would have to take place: 1) it “dumbs down” its powers so that we can comprehend them, by altering the nature of squares and circles or of stone sizes and lifting capabilities, or 2) it elevates our understanding, pulling back the potential solipsistic veil and granting us godlike abilities of comprehension. The first scenario is indistinguishable from day to day life and wouldn’t be considered actual proof of divine intervention—the nature of circular objects would change, for example, and we would never know the difference, because that change would necessarily be retroactive in our minds. The second scenario, an elevation of our understanding, might make us into gods ourselves, but it does seem to provide for the possibility of affirmed belief by (something resembling) a human mind. How would this take place, though? How would god set out to prove it exists to a normal human observer of the material universe? It would take something more convincing than parlor tricks.
Say god sets out to prove that it is real to a committed skeptic. God would know that it couldn’t simply pull a rabbit out of a hat, that it would have to demonstrate true omnipotence and omniscience in a way that couldn’t be explained by anything else. But any real demonstration of godlike powers would be imperceptible to a resident of our universe. For example, how would a mortal being judge immortality (they would die long before the experiment was finished). God would quickly realize that it would have to elevate the observer’s interpretive abilities in much the same way one would have to know calculus to understand differential equations. This process would quickly become a cycle of perpetually increasing a human being’s interpretive capability as the new abilities of observation (such as the power to understand square circles) come into conflict with the still-held naturalistic observations held by the viewer. What would square circles do to triangles, for example? How would their existence interact with the formula for geometric shapes’ perimeters? This would very quickly lead to cognitive impairment and the inability to function within the parameters of previously observed reality.
Take an unaltered human being circa the 21st century, alter only the ability to view a square circle, and immediately the consciousness of the individual would experience profound dissonance between the godly part, which can view and interact with square circles, and the non-godly remainder, which has been oriented toward the impossibility of viewing square circles, among other related things. In order for this being to continue to function, this too must be addressed—now what is the formula for a circle’s perimeter? How would the individual now reside in the previous universe, which is contingent on the knowledge of a very basic spatial relationship which is now altered? He or she could not continue to coexist among individuals who cannot perceive these shapes, and must either become a god and lose any memory of (and thus relationship to) the old observable world, or forget the newfound ability, and, along with it, that the god which granted them such powers even existed. If on the other hand, they don’t forget their forever-altering religious awakening, they are now consigned to the life of a true mystic and very likely a padded cell.
It is the inescapability of naturalistic reason which likewise renders even god forever unable to convince us of its existence, because this convincing could only be done with mystical reason (or god’s omnipotent magic). This is because our capabilities as residents of this particular universe are insufficient to test for the three necessary godly attributes: omnipotence, omniscience, and immortality. Even if a seemingly-fantastic being approached us and agreed to be tested, it could never prove that it deserved to be called a god because it could never display any of the three attributes to those who have only every utilized naturalistic reason (it could only prove itself to other gods, but they would already know). For omnipotence, we can never be sure that there is not some weakness to a god claimant for which we have insufficient time or ability to observe; a being which could move planets would be interesting and warrant further study, but it would not necessarily be a god. This is to say nothing of ostensibly mystical capabilities, which would be impossible to confirm in any sort of scientific setting (if we don’t know what a square circle looks like, how could we confirm that the godhood claimant was able to create them?). Only the gift of omniscience, which would cause any observer to become something more than human, would allow it to confirm that any being claiming to be god is telling the truth. The other two attributes are similarly impossible for a human being (or group of humans) to ever confirm. Immortality, for example, is impossible to prove because there will always be a tomorrow, during which the observed being may perish due to old age. If god could never convince a human being of its own existence without turning that human being into a god, then it follows that it is limited by the nature of its own creation’s perceptions. I am certain of only two things: I exist, and that I am not a god.
The very idea of belief in an infinite deity is anathema to rationality itself—the act of affirming belief without proof invalidates all of naturalistic reason and every aspect of our observed reality. The statements “I believe in god” and “I believe in the possibility of god” are self-defeating for the simple reason that the statement itself precludes meaningful statements, similarly to stating “I don’t believe in language.” In order to open oneself up for the possibility of godly existence, all other rationality must be forsaken, for it is impossible to compartmentalize an irrational belief which is sincerely held. The possibility of god’s existence renders all other potentialities possible, and further, uniformly likely—it is the ultimate equalizer, the destroyer of scientific parsimony, naturalistic reason, and, eventually, the holder’s very sanity (that is, for individuals who sincerely believe). “I believe in god” is no different from another grammatically correct but meaningless statement, “More people have been to Berlin than I have.”
If it is impossible for any sapient being (that is, any being capable of holding an observation-based deduction about the world) to hold that god’s existence is possible, then god’s existence itself is impossible, because an all-powerful being which cannot convince its creation to believe in the possibility of its own existence is a paradox. A powerless god consigned to the realm of the notional is little more than a pretender, a fictional ghost tragicomically convinced of its superiority yet possessing fewer plausible characteristics than a slime mold. This is the human idea of god: a badly-written fiction designed to instill a morality which is paradoxically not based upon naturalistic reason but is being transmitted to beings incapable of any other sort of knowing. God is not real because god cannot be real, and its existence in the minds of its many followers is noxious—if god’s attempts to use magic to allow an individual to view a squared circle would be world-shattering, then imagine the harm done to themselves by would-be worshippers, who, less well-versed in the art of mystical reason, attempt to convince themselves that circles can be square, that blood sacrifices must be made to increase crop yield, or even that god possibly exists. This is how cults are formed.
Insofar as the “religious” cite their worship as a rationale to act in a way that impacts the lives of others, it is justifiable to examine them in a real world context, to question both the sincerity and the outcomes of that belief. Those who profess to be real believers do not keep these beliefs to themselves, they congregate, vote overwhelmingly regressively, eat and dress a certain way, avoid certain media and spurn certain relationships; all of these are actions with consequences for the lives others. The would-be believers’ influence on politics is still problematic even if none of them are bona fide believers, so why is it important to prove that true religiosity is impossible? What difference is the underlying sincerity of the belief, especially in the rare case of the would-be believer who does keep it to themselves and does not allow their desire to believe in god influence their day-to-day decisions (insofar as such a thing is even possible)?
This argument is an important first step in cracking what would otherwise be an indestructible article of faith. Reasoning with a would-be believer is futile, because their worldview will always be premised on the argument “I believe in god, therefore…” (arguing with a true believer would be impossible, as they’d be utilizing mystical reasoning, or non-thought, and would be impossible to understand). No secular, rational argument can or should supersede a genuine belief in an omnipotent and omniscient being’s edicts, and arguing with god is the ultimate act of hubris. However, what might succeed is an argument against the premise itself, not that god can or cannot exist (this is irrelevant for the purposes of political discourse), but that the believer does not truly believe and therefore cannot base their actions on that god’s commandments. It may seem to be condescending to tell others what they do and do not believe, as it presumes that we know more about their thoughts than they do. The alternative is much more condescending, though: to ask true believers to compartmentalize their sincere belief in a higher power is to ask them to act in a way that is inconsistent with what should be the primary motivator. Convincing would-be worshippers that they are not actually believers is in fact freeing, akin to ripping off a band-aid and allowing for immediate healing and growth. It would allow them to finally confront their inevitable suspicions and doubt and examine what motivated them to claim religiosity in the first place (for many, the fear of permanent death). More importantly, it would immediately eliminate a major source of conflict in human society.
Those who profess to hold real religious faith but fall short might still argue that the lie is worth maintaining, that religious worship can motivate charity and other socially beneficial practices. On this point, it is obvious that any benefits of organized religion are incidental and could be found elsewhere at a much cheaper cost (should we cite the Catholic Church’s good works, for example, to excuse their routine coverups and protection of child molesting priests?)—private charity, for example, is not up to the task of replacement government safety net programs in the best of times, and we are rapidly approaching the very worst of times, thanks to a persistently mutating pathogen we are no longer even trying to control and an imminent and ongoing environmental catastrophe. In times of great tribulation, religion might seem to offer a reprieve, the hope of a better life on another plane and the motivator of saintly goodwill on this one. It is none of these things, but rather a socially transmitted lie with uniquely damaging qualities. True religious belief may be unattainable, but its lionization among its billions of would-be adherents is distressingly common and all the more sinister for its falseness. The first step in robbing this outmoded way of thinking of its power is not engaging with it on its own terms, but rather recognizing its fakery and denying its sincerity.