Perhaps you are saying that only God can have an experience of himself? But that still doesn’t tell me what you take God to be. So far, I get a generally noncognitivist vibe, mostly from the “God is Life” bit, but I’m not sure about that. — Pfhorrest

Hi Forrest!

Of course. Who would know the mind of God (can pure reason help us here... ).

Again, as a starting point, I would ask you to consider what kind of truth that life presents to oneself. I gave some starting examples from a perspective of phenomenology/living this life. Another succinct sort of question is, in consciousness, do humans have some sort of intrinsic or innate spiritual need?

Yeah, I don't have any qualms with any of your examples you gave before. That all sounded pretty fine to me. I just don't see how those topics relate to God.

As for "do humans have some sort of intrinsic or innate spiritual need", I think there is a state of mind that feels like some gaping un-fill-able hole, some kind of problem to which nothing could possibly be a solution. I call that feeling "ontophobia", but it's basically existential dread:

It wasn't until decades into my adult life that I first experienced clearly identifiable existential angst like had prompted the many writers on the Absurd for so long. I had long suffered with depression and anxiety, but always fixated on mundane problems in my life (though in retrospect I wonder if it wasn't those problems prompting the feelings but rather the feelings finding those problems to dwell on), and I had already philosophized a way to tackle such mundane problems despite that emotional overwhelm, which will be detailed by the end of this essay. But after many years of working extremely hard to get my life to a point where such practical problems weren't constantly besieging me, I found myself suddenly beset with what at first I thought was a physical illness, noticing first problems with my digestion, side-effects from that on my sinuses, then numbness in my face and limbs, lightheadedness, cold sweats, rapid heartbeat and breathing, and eventually total sleeplessness. Thinking I was dying of something, I saw a doctor, who told me that those are all symptoms of anxiety, nothing more. But it was an anxiety unlike any I had ever suffered before, and I had nothing going on in my life to feel anxious about at that point. Because of that, at first I dismissed the anxiety diagnosis and tried to physically alleviate my symptoms various ways, but as it wore on for many months, I found things to feel anxious about, facts about the universe I had already known for decades (many of which I detail later in this essay) but never emotionally worried about, which I found suddenly filling me with an existential horror or dread, a sense that any sentient being ever existing at all was like condemning it to being born already in freefall into a great cosmic meat grinder, and that reality could not possibly have been any different. Mortified, I searched in desperation for some kind of philosophical solution to that problem, something to think about that would make me stop feeling that, even trying unsuccessfully to abandon my philosophical principles and turn to religion just for the emotional relief, growing much more sympathetic to the many people who turn to religions for such relief, even as I continued to see the claims thereof as false and many of their practices as bad.

As a year of that wore on, brief moments of respite from that existential angst, dread, or horror grew mercifully longer and more frequent, often being prompted by a smaller more practical problem in my life springing up and then being resolved, distracting me from these intractable cosmic problems, at least for a time. In those moments of respite, I would often feel like I had figured out a philosophical solution to the problem: I saw my patterns of thinking while experiencing that dread as having been flawed, and the patterns of thinking I now had in this clearer state of mind as more correct. But when the dread returned, I felt like I could not remember what it was that I had thought of to solve the problem, and any attempt to get out of that state of mind, simply to not feel like that any more, felt like hiding from an important problem that I ought to keep dwelling on until I figured out a solution to it, even though it seemed equally clear that no solution to it was even theoretically possible. It wasn't until nearly a year of this vacillating between normalcy and existential dread had passed that the insight finally stuck me: the existential dread was just the opposite of the kind of "mysterical experiences" I had occasionally had and attached no rational significance too for my entire life. Just as, during those experiences, some things sometimes seemed non-rationally meaningful, just an ordinary experience of some scene of ordinary life with a profound feeling of "this is meaningful" attached to it, so too this feeling of existential dread was just my experience of ordinary life with a non-rational feeling of profound meaninglessness attached to it. The problem that I found myself futilely struggling to solve, I realized, was entirely illusory, and it was not irrational cowardice to hide from the "problem", but rather entirely the rational thing to do to ignore the illusory sense that there was a problem, and do whatever I could to pull my mind out of that crippling state of dread, wherein I had painfully little clarity of thought or motivational energy, and get myself back into a clearer, more productive state of mind.

I have since dubbed that feeling of existential angst, dread, or horror "ontophobia", Greek for the fear of being, where "being" here means both the existence of the whole world generally, and one's own personal existence... — The Codex Quaerentis: On Practical Action and the Meaning of Life

...and I already addressed the opposite feeling, ontophilia, in the OP, and agreed that that is the object of the noncognitivist sense of "God", and that...

...it is the greatest and most important thing in life, and doing the things that bring about that feeling is kinda like to "become [one with] God", but the occurrence of that feeling really isn't good ground to say "God exists", and doing so just causes unnecessary confusion with people who don't already do that, even people who are intimately familiar with that feeling. — Pfhorrest

Forrest!

Thank you for that... It speaks in part to the limitations of what logic can do for us. Notwithstanding Aristotle's recommendation of 'proper thinking' being our so-called saving grace there, it unfortunately has had its existential limitations, as you so well experienced/pointed out.

I also noted the recurring narrative/theme relating to potential dangers associated with the classic religious paradigms. To that end, we know that primarily, existential philosophy started in the book of Ecclesiastes ( three centuries before Christ). And as such, we also know that regarding certain things, no amount of rationalizing will allow ourselves to think our way into nirvana.

I also noted the element of fear, that you have had (human's) experienced. And essentially, if I could paraphrase here, a leap of faith that would conceivably connect some of the dots. Can you elaborate a bit more on these intrinsic fears? In other words, how does fear impact our way of Being, as you suggested... .

If the concept of God relates to life, and if fear is part of life, in either case it would still be germane to the discussion.

.

Can you elaborate a bit more on these intrinsic fears? In other words, how does fear impact our way of Being, as you suggested... . — 3017amen

From my experience last year, and my hypothetical projection of that experience onto the experience of other people writing about the Absurd, there can be first a feeling, a wholly non-rational feeling, just a kind of mental illness, whereby someone first feels the symptoms of fear, anxiety, dread, horror, and then finds things to pin that fear on.

This builds off of already well-established psychological functions of narrative following action: we tend to do things, and then subconsciously look back and construct excuses for why we did them, the way that we would infer in the third-person the motivation of someone else that we just saw do something.

(You can especially see this in split-brain cases: there are people who've had the corpus callosum that connects the left and right hemispheres of the brain severed, and researchers can communicate with those hemispheres separately because each is connected only to the opposite ear, eye, hand, etc. So they can ask the right brain, through an earpiece in the left ear, to do something with their left hand; and then ask the left brain, through an earpiece in the right ear, why it did that with its left hand, and even though the left brain had no control over the left hand and no connection to the right brain, the left brain will still just invent a reason for doing that, and swear up and down that that reason is why they did it, even though the researchers (and the right brain of the subject) clearly know otherwise.)

Anyway, I think that this mental illness is the root of concern about "meaning" in life, the "innate spiritual need". And that's not to insult people suffering from it, because I've only just recently gotten over suffering from it myself. But having been both mentally well and suffering from that feeling, in my well state like right now it seems clearly just an illness, and the question of what life means, or the need for meaning, are both illusory.

It's quite like an addiction: someone suffering from withdrawal from heroin feels a need that an ordinary person doesn't, but it's not because the ordinary person has an adequate supply of heroin, it's because the ordinary person is healthy and not addicted to it, they don't feel a hole in themselves that heroin is needed to fill. I really wouldn't be surprised if it weren't the exact same neurological mechanism involved in both, seeing as how severe anxiety is a common symptom of withdrawal.

I'm still worried that this will sound insulting, and I really don't mean it to. I'm just reporting on my own personal experience with these feelings. For most of my life I wondered "what exactly is it that you need?" when people expressed that kind of existential dread, and at other times I had this bountiful overflowing of love and awe etc that other people identified as a "mystical experience", and it wasn't until last year that I experienced the opposite of that and realized that that is what people having existential crises are on about. But I see those three states, the bottomless pit of despair that begs to be filled, the normal flat surface that doesn't need anything, and the overflowing bounty of joy and such, as just states of me, and not indicative of anything outside of me, like God.

Hi Forrest!

Thanks again... . There are a lot of intriguing things to unpack.

1. I see confirmation that the will precedes the intellect (from your opening paragraph). Thus the tenets of philosophical Voluntarism: "Voluntarism is the theory that God or the ultimate nature of reality is to be conceived as some form of will (or conation). This theory is contrasted to intellectualism, which gives primacy to God’s reason. The voluntarism/intellectualism distinction was intimately tied to medieval and modern theories of natural law; if we grant that moral or physical laws issue from God, it next needs to be answered whether they issue from God’s will or God’s reason. "

Perhaps like you (not sure), I personally believe that the will precedes the intellect.

2.

But having been both mentally well and suffering from that feeling, in my well state like right now it seems clearly just an illness, and the question of what life means, or the need for meaning, are both illusory. — Pfhorrest

I'm not sure I am following that illusionary description there. No doubt about it, many things in life are indeed illusionary (for example, in some other threads we've been discussing the phenomena of the reality of Time itself). But the meaning of life, or as I like to phrase it: "What kind of truth does life present to us?" is something I think we need to parse a bit further.

3. There is no need to feel like you are insulting anyone. Fear is real. In college, I had an ADD/disorder mainly due to an undiagnosed state of depression. A depression due to the will to want to be a somebody, yet not knowing what that is. Not knowing one's intrinsic passion's in life can be very disconcerting. (And combine that with an extreme sense of introverted-ness; not knowing or having the tools to know how to reach-out.) It manifested in changing major's numerous times. Quite frustrating to say the least.

But back to fear. I was suicidal at the time. I attempted suicide out in a remote part of the mountains of Colorado. I didn't know what I wanted to be. What were my fears I wonder?

4. The heroin example is interesting. What kind of need causes a person to get addicted to drugs I wonder, any clue?

5.

But I see those three states, the bottomless pit of despair that begs to be filled, the normal flat surface that doesn't need anything, and the overflowing bounty of joy and such, as just states of me, and not indicative of anything outside of me, like God. — Pfhorrest

I interpret part of that as the meme of one losing oneself to find oneself. The need for interconnectedness. A need to reach out and feel loved. A feeling to love both yourself, life and other people. Where or who can we find inspiration from, and what is inspiration; what purpose does inspiration serve? Is it a metaphysical survival need, I wonder?

Does any of that (or the foregoing) separate us from the Darwinian thought process?

Perhaps like you (not sure), I personally believe that the will precedes the intellect. — 3017amen

It sounds like you understand "will" to mean something different than I do, so I don't think I would agree with those words as stated. But the gist of what I was saying before I think goes along with what I think you mean by those words. I guess I might say "feeling sometimes precedes thought". I think there are both "cognitive and conative" (descriptive and prescriptive) feelings and thoughts each, and thoughts can influence feelings that come after them, but it's not so straightforward that everything we feel is because of something we think. (Nor is is straightforwardly the other way around). Sometimes (often) we just feel things for no good reason (which isn't to say for no cause, but causes aren't always reasons), and then retroactively think of reasons to justify that, without realizing we're doing so.

I'm not sure I am following that illusionary description there. — 3017amen

The idea is that we get this feeling of need first, and then ask what is the thing that we need. But the feeling is not caused by the genuine lack of something, so there is no real answer to that question, and in that way the question is illusory. It's not like we first realize that we are lacking "meaning", and then start feeling bad because we lack it; we first feel bad, irrationally, and then that feeling prompts questions about "what is the meaning of life" as though there is some answer we could be aware of that would resolve that feeling, the ignorance of which is the source of that feeling. But ignorance of "the meaning of life" isn't the source of the feeling; the feeling is the source of the question, and the question, being irrational nonsense, has no real answer. The closest thing to an answer is a method to make the bad feeling go away.

Ontophobia's illusory demand for meaning is essentially a craving for validation, for a sense that one is important and matters in some way. I realize in retrospect that so much of what I thought were mere practical concerns in my life were probably actually manifestations of this ontophobic craving for validation. My youthful longing for romance was all about feeling worthy of a partner; stress about performance at my job was all about feeling worthy as an employee; longing for an appreciative audience for my various private creative works was all about feeling worthy as an author, artist, etc. It was only once those were mostly all satisfied that the bare emotional motive behind them all truly showed itself, the true existential dread being all about craving to feel like it matters whether or not I, or anyone or anything, even exist at all.

[...]

I find that, aside from simply allowing myself to ignore the meaningless craving for meaning that ontophobia brings on, the way to cultivate ontophilia is to practice the very same behaviors that it in turn inspires more of. Doing good things, either for others or just for oneself, and learning or teaching new truths, both seem to generate feelings of empowerment and enlightenment, respectively, and as those ramp up in a positive feedback loop, inspiring further such practices, an ontophilic state of mind can be cultivated. In this sense, it could be poetically said that the meaning of life is to love and be loved, to learn and to teach. Learning truths about the universe, and being the recipient of its goods, shows one how everything in the universe matters, how they fit together into the big picture; and doing goods for the rest of the universe, as well as being a font of truths, makes one matter to the rest of the universe. Learning many great truths and doing many great goods places one in a crucial position in the overall function of the universe, being influenced by as much of the universe as possible through one's experience, filtering true beliefs and good intentions out of it, and then influencing as much of the universe as possible through one's resultant behavior. Approaching such a position is also, on my account, approaching what it would mean to be a god — roughly all-knowing, all-good, and all-powerful — as will be outlined further below. (And that "all-good" aspect, being the only one that could in principle possibly be attained, can be decomposed into an external aspect, inerrancy, the inability to do wrong, and an internal aspect, emotional invulnerability, or the inability to be wronged, which are attained precisely by attaining wisdom and ontophilia, respectively: wisdom correctly guiding the flow of the universe's function through oneself, and ontophilia emotionally shielding oneself from any suffering one might experience in that process.)

I also find that it helps to remain at peace and alleviate feelings of anxiety and unworthiness by not only doing all the positive things that I reasonable can do, as above, but also excusing or forgiving myself from blame for not doing things that I reasonably can't do. Meditative practices are essentially practice at allowing oneself to do nothing and simply be, to help cultivate this state of mind. A popular prayer (that I will revisit again later in these essays) also asks for precisely such serenity to accept things one cannot change and courage to change the things one can. And the modern cognitive-behavioral therapy technique called Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) is also entirely about committing to doing the things that one can do and accepting the things that one cannot do anything about. It is of course very hard to do this sometimes, so it helps also to cultivate a social network of like-minded people who will gently encourage you to do the things you reasonably can, and remind you that it's okay to not do things that you reasonably can't, between the two of which you can hopefully find a restful peace of mind where you feel that you have done all that you can do and nothing more is required of you, allowing you to enjoy simply being.

Simply connecting with other people in itself helps to cultivate feelings of meaningfulness, as it is precisely that connectedness that constitutes meaning in any sense. The linguistic sense of meaning, too, hinges on the connection between signifier and signified, and between speaker and listener. In artistic works, the meaningfulness of creativity comes from illustrating the connections between what previously seemed like unrelated possibilities, as detailed at the end of my essay on the arts. Mathematics is all about exploring the relations, or connections, between things in that same abstract space of possibilities, as detailed in my essay on mathematics. Even the ontology I have put forward earlier posits that the world itself is constituted by a network of interactions, those connections between things forming the very fabric of reality; the teleology I have put forward taking a prescriptive view of that same network of interactions to form the fabric of morality; mind and will being in one sense of each just a different perspective on that same network; knowledge and justice being about connecting to things as described above; and my philosophies of academics and politics hinging entirely on connected networks of people to constitute those respective social institutes. Even the connectedness of philosophy itself, to every other endeavor, is why I find it to be the most meaningful area of study. — The Codex Quaerentis: On Practical Action and the Meaning of Life

I was suicidal at the time. I attempted suicide out in a remote part of the mountains of Colorado. — 3017amen

I'm really sorry to hear that. I hope you are doing better these days.

The heroin example is interesting. What kind of need causes a person to get addicted to drugs I wonder, any clue? — 3017amen

I think it's that the drug promises that kind of overflowing high that is the opposite of what the need for the drug causes, but after the high goes away the mind doesn't just go back to the flat normal state it was before, it falls into a pit that then needs to be filled... by more drugs, only exacerbating the problem.

I've heard that some drugs, like LSD, literally just straight up give you that feeling of meaningfulness, a "mystical experience", and when I've recounted my naturally-occurring experiences to people who've done such drugs, they tell me it sounds like the same thing.

Does any of that (or the foregoing) separate us from the Darwinian thought process? — 3017amen

I'm not sure what this question means.

Also, I'm still not clear what any of this has to do with God, unless you just mean the noncognitivist sense of "God", which I've already said in the OP that I think exists (it's just this feeling of ontophilia), but I don't think deserves to be called "God", which would make any disagreement between us purely verbal.

I'm not sure what this question means.

Also, I'm still not clear what any of this has to do with God, unless you just mean the noncognitivist sense of "God", which I've already said in the OP that I think exists (it's just this feeling of ontophilia), but I don't think deserves to be called "God", which would make any disagreement between us purely verbal. — Pfhorrest

I'm not sure what you mean by noncognitivist... .

To clarify the concern, consider the following concepts we've been discussing: anxiety, depression, hope, the will, sentience, psychedelic drugs, meditative practices, invulnerability, mathematics, abstracts, meaningfulness, et al.

I just pulled those from all the words that we've shared. Accordingly how does that square with the darwinian thought process?

In other words, are some if not all, of those metaphysical concepts or features of consciousness confer any type of meaning to lower life-forms? For example, using your definition of will; did the will evolve?

Obviously, I'm drawing inferences relative to EOG, or negative theology if you will.

I'm not sure what you mean by noncognitivist... . — 3017amen

I mean theological noncognitivism, which I described in the OP:

I am of the opinion that ontophilia is the proper referent of the term "God" as used by theological noncognitivists, who are people that use religious terminology not for describing reality per se, but more for its emotional affect. Most theological noncognitivists do not identify as such and are not aware of this philosophical technicality in their use of language, but it it evident in expressions such as "God is love", whereby "believing in God" does not seem to mean so much a claim about the ontological existence of a particular being, but an expression of good will toward the world and of an expectation that the world generally reciprocates such goodness. It seems also plausibly equatable to the Buddhist concept of "nirvana", or the ancient Greek concept of "eudaimonia", which were the "meanings of life" of those respective traditions. — The Codex Quaerentis: On Practical Action and the Meaning of Life

TL;DR: there is a real feeling that corresponds to the non-cognitivist meaning of "God", and it is the greatest and most important thing in life, and doing the things that bring about that feeling is kinda like to "become [one with] God", but the occurrence of that feeling really isn't good ground to say "God exists", and doing so just causes unnecessary confusion with people who don't already do that, even people who are intimately familiar with that feeling. — Pfhorrest

In other words, are some if not all, of those metaphysical concepts or features of consciousness confer any type of meaning to lower life-forms? For example, using your definition of will; did the will evolve? — 3017amen

Yes, on my account will evolved, as did consciousness, and all of those emotional things we've been talking about, and many of them (or prototypical variants of them) are shared with "lower" life-forms.

, on my account will evolved, as did consciousness, and all of those emotional things we've been talking about, and many of them (or prototypical variants of them) are shared with "lower" life-forms.
1h — Pfhorrest

Forrest!

Great. Let's parse each of those concepts. I would like to explore many other metaphysical phenomena from consciousness such as mathematical abstracts, the feelings from looking at colors, feelings from music, feelings from a sense of wonderment, and other abstract metaphysical properties.

Let's start with the will. Think about an explaination of how lower life-forms experience the will. How would, say, that compare to instinct and survival needs in lower life forms? You may have other theories about the Will. Please share how the will is necessary for survival of the fittest, when instinct works perfectly. (Are they concerned about the meaning of life?)

Since we were talking about depression, mood swings, the need to take drugs, and so forth, if animals have some form of will would they too want to commit suicide? In a sense, do they seek out other forms of psychedelic drugs?

Those are just a few thoughts about the will....

Hello Forrest,

Thank you for creating this post. I have a question about your definition of supernatural. Why can supernatual not be defined as a higher realm of the universe.

In your incarnate definition of God, it is defined as some omnipotent, omnipresent, and omnibenevolent alien that created a lesser universe that we all reside in.
In this case, the supernatural being, a being that lives in a higher realm, is the alien. This alien is acknowledged to have power over the lesser realm therefore we can observe the effects of the alien's control. Whether we understand these observed effects on nature as casued by the alien or by some other mechanism is not importants as this type of God's existance is not dependent on our understanding.

If the effects of this alien can be observed indirectly, then the alien's higher universe must be some compenent of nature. Therefore, it is not contractory to say that God exists in nature if he exists in some higher partition of nature. This allows God to be both transcendental and incarnate.

How dare they quote scriptures and theorize in front of intellectuals?

If we define “supernatural” differently like that, then that all works out as you describe, sure.

That has the consequence, however, that “supernatural” is only relative, and that relative to virtual worlds we create, we ourselves are supernatural.

That also has the consequence that “natural” means something different (and relative) too, and we’d need to come up with new words to mean the things that I meant by “supernatural” and “natural” in the OP.

Looking back on this thread, I just noticed that all the quotes from my Codex in the OP have broken (deleted apparently) opening quote tags. I'm pretty sure it didn't used to be like that. I'm curious if some admin (@Baden?) came through after the fact some time between now and then and removed them?

But I think the argument that undercuts all such accounts is that those models themselves rely on the very logical faculties which the theories seek to explain — Wayfarer

This seems incorrect to me. It is essentially restating the irreducible complexity assumption as an argument against counterarguments to irreducible complexity. Our (overstated) logical capabilities need not be irreducible, and thus could be (i.e. were) evolved iteratively.

Oh how I wish I'd double-check that I'm on the last page before responding!

Sod it, I'm here now.

Throughout my life, I had experienced now and then times of intense positive emotion, feelings of inspiration, of enlightenment and empowerment, understanding and acceptance, awe, of a kind of oneness and connection to the universe, where it seemed to me that the whole world was eminently reasonable, that it was all so perfectly understandable even with its yet-unanswered questions and it was all beautiful and acceptable even with its many flaws. — Pfhorrest

I identify with this. I recall speaking to a Catholic friend of mine about how I felt wandering randomly into Durham cathedral when (and as far as I'm aware, this rarely happens in Durham cathedral) a choir happened to be performing. I recounted a similar profound experience at evensong at King's College, Cambridge.

My friend suggested that this was proof that God speaks to us all, even redeemable atheists such as myself, if I only listen by, for instance, entering a church.

I counter-suggested that, after millennia to practise, Christians have over time perfected some wonderful stimuli that, to them, best approximated what a divine feeling should feel like (in honour of Him, no doubt), and that these stimuli were as apt to excite me as any believer. I have certainly never felt the same profound feeling in a more modest or modern house of God where one presumes my ear is as bent toward God as it is in a magnificent 11th century cathedral or the candlelit 15th century chapel of a wealthy institution.

Same goes for music. People say the same of the visual arts too, although I don't recall being moved by religious art of that vein in the way I've been moved by, say, a Bacon (his Crucifixion notwithstanding) or a Goya.

In light of that, and of this:

I am of the opinion that ontophilia is the proper referent of the term "God" as used by theological noncognitivists, who are people that use religious terminology not for describing reality per se, but more for its emotional affect. — Pfhorrest

God is not the worshipped but is in the worshipping.

:up:

Hi Pfhorrest, thanks for starting these discussions. I can't go through all discussions you took, so please forgive me if I repeat other's questions.

In your "supernatural" definition of god, (I see someone made a similar argument, but I would make it more specific,) how do you consider a case that the consequence of god's activity can be observed but it does not appear in regular as a natural phenomenon like wind, therefore some people do observe the evidence of god, but can not record it so mankind can not have an agreement on god's existence.

I think there is a presumption of your classification of god: that you know the definition of "nature". However the human definition of "nation" is evolving, thousands of years ago, humankind considered lots of things as mysteries, "supernatural", "nature" is underestimated by them, and now you believe everything you experience is natural, in the faith that science will eventually explain everything. Is this belief well-founded?

how do you consider a case that the consequence of god's activity can be observed but it does not appear in regular as a natural phenomenon like wind, therefore some people do observe the evidence of god, but can not record it so mankind can not have an agreement on god's existence. — farmer

If it does not at first appear regular, even just to one individual, or does not appear accessible to all individuals equally, then we need to figure out what the differences are between the circumstances when it does appear and when it doesn’t, and between the people to whom it appears and the people to whom it doesn’t. We must proceed on the assumption that there are some such differences that account for the apparent irregularities, because to do otherwise is simply to assume that the phenomenon is inexplicable, rather than that we simply haven’t explicitly it yet. More on that below.

I think there is a presumption of your classification of god: that you know the definition of "nature". However the human definition of "nation" is evolving, thousands of years ago, humankind considered lots of things as mysteries, "supernatural", "nature" is underestimated by them, and now you believe everything you experience is natural, in the faith that science will eventually explain everything. Is this belief well-founded? — farmer

There is a difference between something being unexplained and something being unexplainable. There can be all kinds of unexplained phenomena, even ones people would want to call “paranormal”, without any if them being unexplainable in principle. And if we would like to explain things where possible, we must try to do so. But if we assume it is not possible then there is no point in trying, in which case if that assumption is wrong and it is possible, we will never find out. So we must proceed always on at least a tacit assumption that such explanation is possible, and that things we haven’t explained yet just haven’t been explained YET, not that they can never be explained.

and that things we haven’t explained yet just haven’t been explained YET, not that they can never be explained. — Pfhorrest

I completely agree with you that we should try our best to understand or explain all phenomenon we see, I think the opposite is what you called "non-cognitivist". But I think "there might be something that is unexplainable" is a more gentle presumption than "anything is explainable". Because the fact that the world is explainable itself is not explainable ( or at least not explained), as Einstein said similarly. I suppose the burden of proof is on the "anything is explainable" side.

I think the opposite is what you called "non-cognitivist — farmer

No, non-cognitivism is using words in a way where truth isn’t even something that applies to them, because they’re not trying to convey literal truths at all, but rather e.g. to evoke emotions.

I think "there might be something that is unexplainable" is a more gentle presumption than "anything is explainable". Because the fact that the world is explainable itself is not explainable ( or at least not explained), as Einstein said similarly. I suppose the burden of proof is on the "anything is explainable" side. — farmer

“Anything might or might not be explainable” is the least assumptive position. Burden of proof is on anyone who would vary from that either direction. But in our actions we cannot help but belie a tacit assumption one way or another: that explanation is in principles possible (belied by trying to find it), or that it’s not (belied by not trying). Assuming it’s not, by not trying, guarantees that you won’t. Assuming it is, by trying, doesn’t guarantee anything, but it leaves open the possibility that you might. That is a pragmatic reason to act always on the assumption that explanation is possible, by trying, and never on the assumption that it is not, and so giving up.

“Anything might or might not be explainable” — Pfhorrest

I'm not sure what you mean by this, do you mean ("everything is explainable" or "everything is not explainable") is the least assumption, or "anything is either explainable or unexplainable" is the least assumption, or otherwise?

I mean that considering the explainability of every particular thing to be unsettled (each thing might be explainable or it might not) is the least assumption. It’s the shrug emoji of answers.

(But as soon as we act, we tacitly assume more than that, in one direction or the other).

I see your point, but I think one (like me) could assume a thing is explainable and act as so while keeping in mind the possibility of the opposite. Figuratively, a football player plays as if he will win, but he could also be aware of the possibility to lose.

Yes, and I do equally advocate keeping in mind the possibility of losing. But that just means not being arrogant about your current play: it’s always the case that THIS might not be THE winning play, even though we must always act as though there is A winning play. I call those principles “criticism” and “objectivism” respectively.

And my critique of supernaturalism is grounded in criticism more than objectivism. The supernaturalist posits that there is something out there that is objectively real (so far so good), but beyond our ability to investigate. So any opinion we hold on it must just be taken at someone’s word — maybe just our own — without question, which is exactly that kind of arrogance that “THIS is the winning play” that my principle of criticism is against.

We must always proceed on the assumption that there is some answer or another out there, but that any particular proposal might not turn out to be it, if we want to have any hope of narrowing in on whatever the right answer is, if that should turn out to be possible.

The supernaturalist posits that there is something out there that is objectively real (so far so good), but beyond our ability to investigate. — Pfhorrest

I'm not sure whether this is against your position, because "there is a thing beyond our ability to investigate" does not mean "this thing is beyond our ability to investigate".

So any opinion we hold on it must just be taken at someone’s word — maybe just our own — without question, which is exactly that kind of arrogance that “THIS is the winning play” that my principle of criticism is against. — Pfhorrest

I can‘t see how the last sentence deduces this one.

We must always proceed on the assumption that there is some answer or another out there, but that any particular proposal might not turn out to be it, if we want to have any hope of narrowing in on whatever the right answer is, if that should turn out to be possible. — Pfhorrest

I agree. But when we are talking about "supernatural" god, we are not talking about a god supernaturalists refer to, we are talking about an objective supernatural god that either exists or not. So no matter how "supernaturalists" behave (as your description or not), we should not take their behavior or their definition in our account, right? And the possibility that the supernatural god is influential but unexplainable seems to me is not neglectable, which hinders your deduction on the supernatural god.

I agree. But when we are talking about "supernatural" god, we are not talking about a god supernaturalists refer to, we are talking about an objective supernatural god that either exists or not. So no matter how "supernaturalists" behave (as your description or not), we should not take their behavior or their definition in our account, right? And the possibility that the supernatural god is influential but unexplainable seems to me is not neglectable, which hinders your deduction on the supernatural god. — farmer

I’m not talking about what some self-identified group of supernaturalists say about themselves, rather I am saying something about belief in the supernatural myself. A god (or anything) that is influential is definitionally not supernatural on my account.

A god (or anything) that is influential is definitionally not supernatural on my account. — Pfhorrest

Does it mean you put the influential but unexplainable (if exists) god in the class of "incarnate", I don't get the precise definition of "incarnate", but if you use "alien" as an example, seems to me it's not a good analogy for that god I describe?

unexplainable — farmer

We can never know if something is unexplainable, only that it is not explained yet.

Does it mean you put the influential [...] god in the class of "incarnate" — farmer

Yes.

I don't get the precise definition of "incarnate", but if you use "alien" as an example, seems to me it's not a good analogy for that god I describe? — farmer

That’s why I think that incarnate things are not fit to be referents of the term “god”.

You’ve got powerful aliens, the impersonal universe itself, impossible nonexistent things beyond the universe, or else some warm fuzzy feelings. None of those things except the one that can’t exist seem like they really deserve to be called “god”, so nothing that deserves to be called “god” can exist.

We can never know if something is unexplainable, only that it is not explained yet. — Pfhorrest

I agree, but we need to leave a space for "unexplainable" in our deduction, even when we are trying to explain everything, therefore your 4 definitions of "god" can not cover all possibilities.