Today most people probably think of Flew as the atheist who late in life changed his mind and converted to deism. That conversion is probably what I most admire about the man. He was intellectually honest, the rare individual willing to publicly state that he had been mistaken, regardless of the effect on his reputation.

Some have argued that Flew, who died earlier this year, was past his mental prime at the time of his conversion. They have comforted themselves with the notion that because of cognitive decline Flew became susceptible to intelligent design arguments which in his youth he would not have found convincing. I think that misunderstands the man. As I see it, Flew’s change of mind is neither surprising nor, in the context of his agnostic atheism, the result of declining mental ability. Rather, it was the result of his approach to the question of God’s existence.

The Presumption of Atheism

Flew came to prominence at a time when most thoughtful religious skeptics identified themselves not as atheist but as agnostic on the subjerct of God’s existence. Flew argued (successfully, it appears in retrospect) that the skeptic position should be embraced as athesim not agnosticism. He did so by arguing that the burden of proof is on the side proposing a proposition. For the same reason that we place the burden in criminal cases on the prosecution—namely the difficulty of proving a negative—so we should do so for the assertion that there is a God.

The result was that the term atheist effectively went from meaning “someone who disbelieves God’s existence” to meaning “someone who disbelieves God’s existence has been demonstrated”. It went from being a negative conclusion about God’s existence to being a negative conclusion about the evidence for God’s existence.

Flew was aware, of course, of arguments which put God’s existence in doubt, such as the problem of evil. But he knew that the problem of evil only applies if God is defined as omnibenevolent, something not all believers necessarily assert. In particular, minimalist deism does not insist on God’s goodness. Thus the primary matter which separated Flew’s atheist position from minimalist deism was his judgment that there was insufficient evidence for the existence of a creator.

True to form, and honest to the bone, in later years, once he became aware of viable arguments for the existence of a creator, Flew embraced minimalist deism.

For my part, I always thought the presumption of atheism was incorrect, or at least inappropriate. The burden, in science (and society generally), properly belongs on whoever is attempting to change the consensus viewpoint. Imagine, for example, a quantum physicist who claims that quarks do not exist, but rather than making a case for his negative position, instead rests his case on the claim that the burden of proof is on all the other quantum physicists who believe in quarks. Prove it to me, he tells them.

What would likely be the response from his fellow scientists? Would they find his aquarkism convincing? Highly unlikely. Much more likely he would find himself ignored or ridiculed until he himself presented good evidence for his negative point of view.

In science, if an established proposition has been found to be more useful and successful than its competitors, it receives the benefit of the doubt. Anyone who wants to challenge that proposition will find the burden of proof is on them. Why, in a world in which the vast majority believe in a creator, should we expect anything different?

The Warren-Flew Debate

My own exposure to Antony Flew began during my first quarter at college—philosophy 101. One of our textbooks was the Flew-edited anthology, Body, Mind and Death. This was, it should be mentioned, a couple years before I became an atheist. Flew had little or no influence over my own conversion to disbelief, but after turning atheist I began to cast around looking for other atheists I could learn from. I looked first to Bertrand Russell, but in Russell I found several important points of disagreement—I was not a Bertrand Russell sort of atheist.

What about Flew? I was introduced to Flew’s atheism by a coworker on an archaeology dig who happened to be a Christian missionary for the Church of Christ. Upon learning I did not believe God existed, he was eager to proselytize. He told me about a four-night debate on the existence of God between Antony Flew and Thomas Warren of the Church of Christ, held in 1976. He claimed that Warren demolished Flew in short order, along with any intellectual justification for atheism.

I bit, and bought the transcript of the debate, the Warren-Flew Debate on the Existence of God (book, video),  (For good measure I bought a second book, the Warren-Matson Debate on the Existence of God, another four-night debate which took place in 1978.) A full analysis of the debate between Thomas Warren and Antony Flew will have to wait, but let me say that the notion popular among theists that Warren won the debate strikes me as bizarre. Although I can understand that Warren’s confident tone may have created a visceral feeling in his followers that he was triumphant, any attention to the argument of the debate itself must reverse that judgment.

Warren revealed himself to be incapable of understanding the concept of evolution. His central argument was that it’s impossible to explain how a human being could evolve from something non-human. Either the first human being was a baby which therefore was born of a non-human mother, or else the first human being was a human mother who, inexplicably was non-human at birth. In fact, this was but one of several impossibilities which Warren was convinced impaled the atheist: human from non-human, intelligence from what had no intelligence, consciousness from non-consciousness, and life springing from rocks and dirt—all simply impossible. And because these things are impossible, atheism is dead in the water—so Warren maintained.

Scientists hardly consider these events impossibilities. Warren, however, was adamant that evolution is defeated by a chicken first or egg first dilemma. Either the first human baby was born of a non-human mother, or a non-human baby somehow transformed itself into a human mother—Warren found it impossible to conceive of any other alternative—ipso facto God is necessary to get the human species started.

To his credit, Flew did not laugh out loud. Patiently he explained to Warren how one thing can so gradually transform into another that you can not pinpoint the moment at which it transformed. He provided the example of someone gradually becoming bald, and another example of a language evolving from one form into another until speakers of the latter cannot understand the former. All this sailed over Warren’s head. In the end, Flew spent much of the debate simply explaining the basics of evolutionary theory—not to Warren (that was a lost cause), but to the audience.

But in a sense, Flew did lose the debate. Arguing for the presumption of atheism to an audience of Christians was not a winning strategy. The presumption of Christianity is theism, not atheism. Most Christians find atheism incomprehensible and (since to them it deprives life of all meaning and value) also abhorrent. That was certainly the case in 1976. The audience for this debate was never going to accept a presumption of atheism. Their initial presumption—like Warren’s—was that atheism is a non-starter.

A Different Way to Atheism

Instead of championing atheism as the default until theists provide adequate evidence, it is possible for atheists to take another, more activist tack. Rather than leaving all the intellectual effort to the theist, as if believers have a hill to climb, I would argue that it is better to engage them on a level field—or even admit that it is we atheists who must charge uphill. We should begin by admitting that atheism is predicated on the assertion of a natural worldview, just as theism is built on supernaturalism. Yet the question is not whether naturalism or supernaturalism ought to be the default position—rather, the question to be settled is which worldview best fits the facts of existence as we have them.

Had Flew’s atheism been of this sort, he might might have been better prepared to present atheism in a context that is positive and sensible rather than negative and scary.

Consider Warren’s assertion that consciousness cannot come from that which has no consciousness and thus never could have come into existence without God. Thanks to the legacy of Flew, the typical atheist response today is to ask where the evidence is for God, and follow it up by asking why scientists don’t consider the concept of God necessary (or even useful) in the study of consciousness. Good questions, but they do not upset the theist applecart—after all, scientists have not explained consciousness yet, have they? Nor do these questions make atheism sensible and comprehensible except as a merely skeptical or negative predisposition. To Warren and his Christian audience, atheism seems to rely on “faith” that scientists will eventually have an explanation for consciousness.

A more useful approach, I believe, is to admit that there is a difficulty here for the atheist—but also one for the theist. The difficulty for the atheist lies in explaining how the brain can create our consciousness and cause us to have thoughts and feelings. And yet, there is strong evidence that it does so. We know that tumors and strokes and lobotomies—things that damage portions of the brain—can cause loss of (or warp) consciousness. Even drugs and alcohol alter our consciousness. This stands as prima facie evidence that the brain somehow controls consciousness; it supports the atheist position that the brain causes consciousness. And since scientists can trace the evolution of the brain, it makes sense to believe that consciousness evolved concurrently with it.

That may not mean much to someone like Warren who is incapable of understanding basic evolutionary concepts. But there is another side to this: explaining the mind-brain interaction is a serious difficulty for theists as well. How can soul (mind) and brain interact? How does a soul become intertwined with a specific physical brain? How do we explain the effects on the soul that brain damage seems to cause? From questions like thse we see that similar difficulties exist for the theist as exist for the atheist, and this is because the dependent relationship of consciousness and mind on the brain is today undeniable.

When debating theists, it makes sense for atheists to try to hammer these points home. If the soul or mind is spiritual, how can it interact and intertwine with our very physical brain, even to the extent that it appears to be affected by damage to the brain? It would seem that to be affected by something physical, the soul would need to have a physical aspect. Grant that, however, and you must then explain how the soul’s physical aspect interacts with its non-physical aspect. This is a real difficulty. It is a difficulty the atheist resolves by saying that everything is physical, even our wonderful minds and our lovely feelings. That move simplifies things, even if it doesn’t entirely solve the problem. But the theist needs a different answer, and that is not easy to come by.

Flew’s Conversion

But instead of developing positive arguments for atheism, Flew primarily relied on his confidence that the burden of proof rests on the advocate of theism. Show me the evidence, was his mantra. It is the mantra of most armchair atheists today. In one sense, Flew’s argument for the presumption of atheism has been very successful—among freethinkers. But it’s come at the cost of developing strong arguments for atheism.

As I wrote earlier, thanks to Flew’s influence, the definition of an atheist effectively switched from “someone who disbelieves God’s existence” to “someone who disbelieves God’s existence has been demonstrated.” Instead of being a negative conclusion about God’s existence, atheism was reinterpreted as a negative conclusion about the evidence for God’s existence. It meant atheists could stop studying the board (to use a chess metaphor), stop looking for winning moves, and confidently put the burden on the opponent to make the game interesting.

Well, they have done so. While atheists relaxed, theists have been studying the board, developing new and stronger moves. For example, William Lane Craig resurrected the Kalam Cosmological argument in light of modern cosmology embracing a big bang singularity. And Alvin Plantinga developed an evolutionary argument against naturalism which is downright brilliant. (I wish I’d thought of it myself.) Theists have come up with other new moves as well, such as the Fine-Tuning argument.

The result was predictable. When Flew was finally exposed to these new moves (e.g. interpreting the big bang as evidence of a Kalem-esque single point of creation) the mantra “show me the evidence” had to stop. In reality, theists have always had evidence for their position, but now they have new evidence based on the scientific study of the origin of the universe. Sure, most scientists prefer string theory or weird ideas about multiverses over God as an explanation for the universe appearing to come into existence out of nothing, but from a philosophical perspective a God hypothesis which can’t be tested is (more or less) just as valid as string theory or multiverses which can’t be tested.

So Flew became a deist. He adapted a minimal deism which made no unwarranted claims about the nature of God. It was a deism in keeping with the evidence he had come to accept. He still rejected notions of a personal God, of miracles, of afterlife, of salvation. But given new evidence for a single point of creation, Flew was honest enough, brave enough, and decent enough to accept the God hypothesis.

For that I admire the man, and I regret his death.

Atheology.com is all about rectifying this situation, of course. But first, what do I have in mind when I say that most atheists don’t have a robust enough argument against this higher-class theism?

Blind Atheism

The most common argument for atheism goes something like this:

1) there should be a presumption of atheism – i.e. the burden of proof falls on those who assert the existence of God (you can’t expect non-believers to prove a universal negative)
2) there is no adequate logical or empirical evidence for God’s existence, therefore the burden has not been met
3) personal experiences (“God spoke to me”) can never be substantiated, so they can’t be used to meet the burden.
4) faith is wholly inadequate, so don’t even bring it up.

The famous atheist philosopher Antony Flew wrote the book on the presumption of atheism (see Flew’s “The Presumption of Atheism”), but a few years ago Flew came around to the viewpoint that theists have indeed met the burden of proof. Flew has now concluded there is a God, and he has become a deist. Flew’s conversion represents a serious challenge to atheism, and also represents one of the best examples of intelligent theism. To be sure, Flew still rejects revealed religion and does not believe in a “personal” God — despite the glee of some Christians, Flew is nowhere near to becoming a Christian. But just as certainly Flew is no longer an atheist. He no longer accepts point 2 above. There is in his view adequate evidence for the existence of God.

Goodbye Courtroom Analogy

But the situation is worse than this implies. Why? Because the burden of proof / presumption of atheism argument Flew popularized never really made much sense anyway. Flew used a courtroom analogy, where the burden quite properly falls on those who assert the positive: that x did y. But the debate between atheists and theists does not take place in a courtroom: no one is on trial, no one is at risk of jail time for their belief or non-belief. There is no defendant whose right to a fair trial needs to be protected by a presumption of innocence.

Even the argument that you can’t prove a universal negative is not necessarily true: we can be very certain there are no married bachelors anywhere, even in the most distant galaxy. But there is something else flawed about this whole burden of proof approach. Philosophical “proofs” can never establish matters of fact. The debate about God’s existence is a debate about which hypothesis — the natural one or the supernatural one — is most convincing. It is a factual question, not one that can be “proved” philosophically. Failure to provide that kind of “proof” means nothing. The better model for determining matters of fact is found in the method of science.

If we look to science we find that Flew’s assertion about burden of proof doesn’t apply: in actual practice the burden of proof is on new proposals and the presumption is in favor of the established scientific position. For example, if someone wants to argue that quarks are a myth, the burden is on them to make a convincing case for their assertion — not on the vast majority of scientists who believe in quarks. Imagine if the quarks-are-a-myth minority presented no alternative hypothesis and merely announced,

You can’t expect us to prove that no quarks exist, because after all no one can prove a universal negative. No, you need to show us a real quark and not merely rely on inferences and the quark hypothesis. We need to see real proof.

Obviously they would be ignored, or if not ignored ridiculed. If we want a real life example of the same principle, we need only look at the small cadre of scientists who are evolution-deniers. In their mind the burden of proof is on evolutionary scientists to find all the “missing links” in the fossil record; whereas they, the small minority of scientists who are deniers, see no obligation to produce scientific evidence for their own position.

In actual practice (outside of the courtroom) the burden is always on the minority to convince the majority, not the other way around. Extrapolating from this, it is clear that since we live in a world dominated by belief in God, the burden of proof is on atheists to make the case that God’s existence is unlikely, that naturalism better fits the evidence.

Atheism Out of Context

This is where atheism has a problem. You see, most atheists don’t recognize that they even have an alternative hypothesis to offer. They are stuck on the notion that atheism is simply the withholding of belief in God and nothing more. For them, atheism has no context.

They fail to see that what animates atheism is naturalism. Without its connection to naturalism, atheism is blind.

They also fail to see that intelligent theists have some pretty good arguments. Atheists need to be able to knock those arguments down. Unfortunately, my experience is that typically atheists aren’t good at doing that. Most atheists don’t even know about informed theism, since they have only come in contact with puff-ball theists. And on the other side of the coin, most are completely unprepared to make a case for naturalism.

Atheists tend to be arrogant. They are too stuck up on saying to the overwhelming majority who represent the dominant consensus: “prove you are right”. That simply won’t fly. Atheists have the burden because they are a minority. It is the same burden all scientists in a minority have: to show that the dominant consensus is seriously if not fatally flawed, and to demonstrate that they have a better hypothesis.

If atheists do this will they convert puff-ball theists? Probably not. But the door will be opened to intelligent debate with informed theists. And atheism will no longer be quite so blind.