One particular argument against philosophical naturalism that I have found persuasive is philosopher Alvin Plantinga’s “Evolutionary Argument Against Naturalism.” He and others have advanced the argument for about twenty years now. The EAAN (as I shall refer to it hence) contends that evolutionary theory, when combined with naturalism, renders the latter unlikely. Some iterations use this initial assertion as a platform for theism. At the very least, the EAAN would suggest that one cannot have rational justification, if naturalism is true, for believing it.
How so? Well, evolutionary processes are not, in the final analysis, interested in truth. Survival and adaptation are the primary goals of evolutionary change, and its primary mechanism, natural selection; truth, if it occurs at all, is a contingent consequence of this process – “subordinated to the utilitarian principle of mere survival,” as theologian Conor Cunningham has written. If nature is all there is (as philosophical naturalism contends) then truth is merely a local affair. It no longer possesses a universal quality, by which individual thoughts may be judged or evaluated, and towards which human minds are inherently oriented. Truth cannot be attained with any degree of confidence, for the cognitive faculties used in its pursuit are the products of a process of natural selection that is, at best, neutral in its stance towards epistemic assurance. Such assurance is subservient to the overriding function of survival. This function entails that true statements about reality might, at times, be harnessed in an organism’s effort to adapt to its environment; however, this isn’t necessarily, or essentially so, for survival might not always “need” truthfulness to prevail. Truth may or may not be associated with adaptive behaviour, for survival and adaptability are bereft of any innate tendency towards it. If error or deceit proves to be more efficient in guaranteeing survival, then they may “win out,” as it were, for natural selection does not “select” for truth. As such, we cannot trust our cognitive capabilities to help us arrive at what is, and according to an evolutionary account of humanity’s intellectual development, we have no warrant for believing naturalism to be true.
On the other hand (so some versions of the argument go), a belief in God – which is, by definition, opposed to naturalism – provides a person with a far stronger foundation for trusting in his cognitive faculties and developing a reasonably (or roughly) accurate picture of the world. This isn’t to say that an individual will always be correct, or that his thought processes will never lead him astray. But, given that we seem naturally to trust in our cognitive and rational abilities, it is suggested that theism, and not naturalism, supplies us with surer epistemic footing.
The EAAN, at least in this iteration, concludes that our abilities to reliably think, reason and hypothesize about the reality we inhabit make better sense in light of the belief in their creation by a God who is omniscient and perfectly rational. If he is the Source of all truth and being, and is the ultimate guarantor of every contingent instantiation of truth; and if human beings have been made to reflect him in some sense (or, at the very least, ultimately owe their intellectual faculties to God); then we are far better off resting upon this belief if we are going to persist in trusting what our minds tell us about the external world. The only alternative, the EAAN would say, is perennial agnosticism and doubt about everything – including naturalism itself.
Various people have attempted to rebut the argument, employing a number of strategies. Two rebuttals that have been penned recently come from Justin Thibodeau and Massimo Pigliucci, both of whom are professional philosophers. In pieces written for their respective blogs, Thibodeau and Piggliuci offer what they believe are defeaters of the EAAN. Now, part of me hesitates in disagreeing with their assessments of Plantinga’s original thesis; after all, they have made careers out of rigorous philosophical thinking, whilst I am simply some guy, sitting in his study, tapping away at a computer. Nevertheless (and despite the appearance of a certain amount of temerity on my part) I shall endeavour to engage with their rebuttals, and point out why I do not think they successfully defeat Plantinga’s EAAN.
I shall start with Justin Thibodeau. Interestingly, Thibodeau doesn’t deny that evolutionary theory undermines naturalism. He may deny it, but he doesn’t offer any arguments to rebut the contention. Rather, in a short essay entitled “The EAAN Turned on its Head,” he argues that theism doesn’t give us any more warrant for trusting our cognitive faculties than naturalism does. How so? Well, he suggests that it’s entirely possible that God, in his infinite wisdom, has endowed us with unreliable cognitive faculties. With the assistance of sceptical theism, he contends that there may be such reasons, even if we cannot determine what they are. Thibodeau likens this to the reasons why God might permit gratuitous evil: even if there may be no apparent reason for the presence of such horrendous suffering within the world, that doesn’t mean there is no actual reason. According to sceptical theism, the apparent lack of divine purpose behind, say, the Holocaust, or child rape, is due to our cognitive limitations – our inability to discern or comprehend the infinitude of the divine Mind. In other words, because we are finite creatures, we cannot possibly understand all God’s reasons – the infinite Source of all knowledge and wisdom – in allowing so much palpable suffering.
His conclusion is that God may have similarly prevented us from developing reliable cognitive faculties. Like the sceptical theist who argues that God’s permission of gross evil may be due to reasons we cannot comprehend, Thibodeau suggests he has similarly, and mysteriously, truncated humanity’s rational capabilities. Just because we don’t know why doesn’t mean it’s not the case. Here is Thibodeau in his own words:
“But is it true that we should expect God to create creatures with reliable cognitive faculties? Why would we think so? If God had a good reason to create humans with unreliable faculties, then wouldn’t he do that? Perhaps there is some greater good that God can only realize by creating creatures with deficient cognitive faculties… I conclude, therefore, that there is no reason to suppose that God does not have such a reason. If he does have such a reason, then, if theism is true, our cognitive faculties are not reliable. Thus, theism does not account for the reliability of our cognitive faculties.”
Earlier in his piece, Thibodeau states that he thinks metaphysical naturalism is “probably true” – in which case, he doesn’t regard it as likely that there is a God who would endow us with faulty intellectual equipment. He’s simply proffering it as a way of suggesting that theism doesn’t give us any greater warrant for trusting in the deliverances of our minds. If his account is correct, then theism offers no more justification than naturalism does for our epistemic confidence.
On the face of it, this seems rather compelling. However, having reflected upon what I take to be the crux of Thibodeau’s thesis, I see a rather glaring problem: it is ultimately self-defeating; that is, by suggesting that God could well have given us unreliable cognitive apparatus, Thibodeau actually undermines the very foundations of his argument.
Let me explain. As I noted, Thibodeau contends that God could well have given us faulty cognitive equipment – in which case, we have no more reason to suppose that equipment is reliable than we would if naturalism were true. But if this is the case, why should we listen to Thibodeau? Why should we put stock in anything he has said on the matter? Perhaps God has endowed us with unreliable intellects and imperfect rational faculties. However, if this is so, we would never be able to know it – precisely because our knowledge of the world has to pass through the “filter” of those same faculties. If they are unreliable, then, we would be unable to determine that for ourselves. An unbridgeable epistemic gap would separate us from the object of our knowledge.
The implications for Thibodeau’s argument are significant. Of course, Thibodeau has simply floated this as a possible notion; it would seem that he is ultimately agnostic on the matter. Even so, one is compelled to ask how, if God has created him with faulty cognitive abilities, he is able to place any trust in his capacity to forms conceptual chains and make the argument he has made? How is he is able to understand and harness the structures of language to formulate coherent statements? Even if he thinks he is using these things with relative precision, what reason does he have for such confidence? Perhaps his own mind is “deceiving” him into thinking that it is reliable. Maybe its unreliability has somehow produced the illusion of dependability (if that is how God has willed it to be). And why should his audience have any trust that he has reasoned correctly, or that it has comprehended his contention accurately? Indeed, if Thibodeau’s argument is correct, and God has, for whatever reason, made humans with unreliable intellectual powers, it logically entails an intrinsic lack of confidence in said argument. If this sounds self-contradictory, you’d be correct: it is self-contradictory. Such a claim is like the man who says that everything he utters is a lie, for both Thibodeau’s contention and the hypothetical man’s statement collapse in on themselves. More than that, it is akin to the mendacious gentleman always speaking to people who willfully misunderstand everything they hear. Thus, if Thibodeau is correct, we not only have no way of knowing this to be the case; we have no reason for trusting his – or our own – ability to arrive at a rational determination regarding its truth.
One can quite easily extrapolate this argument. For if it is the case that God may well have given humans unreliable cognitive equipment, there is no reason whatsoever to have confidence in anything. It places at risk, not only sophisticated philosophical arguments or complex scientific hypotheses, but also the mundane instances of rational understanding – those which allow us to read a street sign, or infer from the smell of gas in the kitchen that the stove might be on, or make a clear distinction between conscious and unconscious states (i.e. whether one is sleeping or awake). The entire edifice of our mental lives breaks down; it is impossible to discern how deep the cognitive “rot” goes, for the only way to even begin to determine the answer to that question is via…our rational faculties. Simply claiming that our basic senses are self-evidently reliable (if not perfect) will not do; for if God has created us with imperfect cognitive faculties, then any assertion to the contrary, based on their apparent reliability for daily tasks, can simply be dismissed – or met with serious agnosticism – as just another possible manifestation of fundamentally flawed intellects.
This wider problem is not unique to Thibodeau’s main thesis, for it is something that, according to proponents of the EAAN, also afflicts philosophical naturalism. However, it does deepen the problems the contention in question faces. For instance, Thibodeau has relied, as I said, on his ability to grasp concepts, form chains of reasoning, and comprehend the meaning of language. But these abilities do not stand in isolation; manifested in his essay, they are simply present instantiations of an intellectual “stream” that began many years before. Indeed (and to change the metaphor), they are inescapably built upon the simpler acts of reasoning, perception and comprehension in which we all engage. However, if God has created humans in the way Thibodeau (hypothetically) suggests, then not only his argument, but everything upon which it is based, should be treated as unreliable. His basic intellectual skills, developed over a number of years, are to be handled with just as much suspicion as the higher-level reasoning he has employed in constructing the argument under discussion.
To sum up: Thibodeau may have offered an imaginative response to Plantinga’s EAAN, but for the reasons I have outlined above, I believe it to be self-refuting. His argument reflects an implicit faith in the reliability of his cognitive faculties. In this, I heartily join him; the supposition that they are reliable is, I believe, basic common sense. But if they are dependable – as Thibodeau seems to believe – then it is unlikely that God, if he exists, has created humans in the way Thibodeau imagines. Otherwise, he has no business making his argument in the first place. Such is the conundrum. Therefore, I believe that turning the EAAN on its head, as Thibodeau has tried to do, fails to work. Plantinga’s original contention, at least from this rebuttal, remains safe.
Massimo’s Musings on the EAAN
So much for Justin Thibodeau. What about Massimo Pigliucci? I have to say that when I first read his piece, I thought that he had provided what amounted to an unassailable rebuttal to the EAAN. Now, having read it over a few times, I do not think the arguments he presents are necessarily insurmountable. It’s still very impressive – and, at the very least, has taught me to slow down, step back, and think more carefully about arguments that may, in the past, have won my immediate assent. So it is in that vein that I engage with what he has written.
Firstly, I think that Pigliucci has misunderstood the nature of Plantinta’s argument. He seems to be implying that it is a “formal argument in logic,” before going on to say that Plantinga’s conclusions in no way follow the premises outlined. Indeed, Piggliuci faults Plantinga for arbitrarily proposing theism as an explanation for the reliability of our cognitive faculties. He writes:
“For instance, there is no non-arbitrary reason to think that God created us in his image (what, just because it says so in a book written by unknown human beings thousands of years ago?), nor that “in his image” ought to include the ability to form reliable beliefs about the world. After all, there are a number of respects in which God did not bother to make us similar to himself (omnipotence, for instance; not to mention that he likely doesn’t have nipples), so why arbitrarily assume that reliability of beliefs is one such aspect? It certainly doesn’t follow from the premises of the EAAN.” (Emphasis mine).
Now, I concur with Pigliucci that Plantinga has hastily employed biblical language to describe the possibility that God has created beings with reliable cognitive equipment. “In his image” is clearly drawn from Genesis 1:26-27, and to that extent, narrows the definition of God considerably. If the EAAN is meant to substantiate a general kind of theism, then Plantinga has gone too far: the argument can only support (at most) a generic belief in God. Further work would have to be done in order to demonstrate the existence of, say, the God whom Christians believe has revealed himself in Jesus of Nazareth. Using the language of “image” to denote our relationship to God is, I agree, arbitrary.
But wait a minute. I said before that I think Pigliucci misunderstands the general nature of Plantinga’s argument. Contrary to what Pigliucci has said, Plantinga (at least as I read him) has not offered his conclusion to the EAAN (i.e. that God provides a better explanation for our rational powers than does naturalism) as a formal argument in logic . Rather, he originally proffered it as a probabilistic hypothesis, which seeks to coherently explain the reliability of our cognitive faculties, given evolution generally, and natural selection in particular (note this is related to the conclusion; Plantinga’s argument against a naturalistic explanation for the reliability of our cognitive faculties – as distinguished from his hypothesis that God provides just such an explanation – is an “in principle” contention). It seeks to achieve what a scientific hypothesis sets out to achieve: gather up the relevant data, and posit an explanation that is likely to adequately deal with that data. It should not be construed as a tight, logical argument, such that the conclusion follows inexorably from the premises.
However, this is what Pigliucci seems to have done. Rather than seeing theism as a probabilistic hypothesis to the question of the reliability of our cognitive faculties, he has instead inferred strict logicality. Plantinga’s suggestion is simply that theism can better account for the reliability of our intellectual and perceptual abilities than naturalism. As an explanatory hypothesis, God could be seen as offering justification for the trust that we place in those abilities. If both evolution via natural selection and the reliability of human cognition are taken as granted, then the data in front of us asks for an explanation. Theism, as the stated goal of the EAAN, proposes to offer such an explanation – plausible, but not necessary. Of course, if Plantinga had meant to offer an argument in formal logic, then it’s true that his conclusion simply does not follow from the premises given. Pigliucci would be correct in pointing out the “leap” thus taken, and chastising Plantinga for arbitrarily selecting rationality and cognitive reliability as the defining qualities that evince God’s creation of humanity. However, accusations of explanatory caprice are wide of the mark, for the relationship between premise and conclusion was, as I said, only ever meant to be probabilistic.
Pigliucci might argue that, even if charges of arbitrariness carry less weight as a result, we still have no good reason to think that God, in creating human beings, chose rationality as the defining characteristic of our “image-bearing” natures. Now, as I said, I think he is right to critique Plantinga for using plainly biblical language, since the EAAN gives no warrant for doing so. That said, I think a more generic description of the relationship between humans and God can succeed in denuding the charge of arbitrariness. Indeed, I think it reasonable to suggest that God, if he exists, might be the ultimate source of that particular quality. One doesn’t have to import the concept of the imago dei to offer that as a plausible hypothesis. If it’s the case that philosophical naturalism, when conjoined with natural selection, fails to account for the reliability of our cognitive faculties, then an explanation has to come from somewhere, lest we accept human rationality as a brute fact. Moreover, if philosophical naturalism cannot so account for reliable human intellects, then this raises the possibility of a non-naturalistic explanation. How did human cognition develop otherwise? Positing a God, whose intellectual and rational powers are far in excess of humans (to say the least) would seem to provide a basis for trusting what our minds can tell us about reality. Contingent instantiations of mind and intellect can be plausibly construed as “pointers” to a greater Mind that has so created them (via whatever means). This should not be (mis)interpreted as an attempt at formal logical. Rather, it is a reasonable inference based upon a traditional conception of God (one that would include the elements of will, intellect, power, eternality, infinitude, and so forth). It functions as a bare, causal explanation that is weighed according to the data at hand, and alternatives on offer.
Pigliucci offers examples of other qualities, which are true of either God or people, to suggest that the many differences between the two render questionable the tendency to highlight cognitive reliability as a particularly clear point of divine-human identity. To that end, he states that humans haven’t been given omnipotence, and that God likely doesn’t possess nipples. But neither of these examples demonstrates arbitrariness on the part of Plantinga and others. In regards to omnipotence, it would simply be impossible for God to so endow human beings. Omnipotence is an essential quality of Deity – the power that underlies all contingent instantiations of power. How would it be possible to create humans with power that rivals God? In what way is it coherent to say that humans could enjoy the kind of power that underlies their own existence (which is part of any complete definition of divine omnipotence)? What would it mean if there was more than one being possessed of omnipotence? Would humans be able to override the plans and will of God? Would they be able to override each other? Answering either “yes” or “no” means that someone is left without omnipotence. Consequently, the idea is incoherent. God, far from capriciously deciding to withhold some quality from humans, cannot give something that is uniquely his, by nature.
Moreover, Pigliucci seems to have failed to note that humans, though they do not possess, say, omnipotence, are endowed with power. Whilst it might be true that people, by their very nature, cannot possibly have this quality in an infinite sense (for the reasons given above), it is the case that we possess the (limited) ability to create, control, initiate, shape or guide. This is self-evident: my typing this blog essay is a manifestation of power (trivial though it may be). Scientists splitting the atom, or engineers digging a tunnel to make way for a road, are examples of power. My lifting my hand to scratch my nose is also such an instance. These instances are comparatively small, and although there is a fair degree of variation amongst them (scratching one’s nose can only be loosely compared to the splitting of an atom of hydrogen), they are also limited and contingent– just like humans’ rational and cognitive powers are. Humans do not have infinite power, but this isn’t analogous to human cognition; rather, it corresponds to omniscience, which humans similarly lack. Whilst there are good reasons for supposing that God would not – indeed, could not – have endowed humans with omnipotence (or any other infinite quality), the plain fact of finite human power, in all its forms, offers us a parallel to the idea that human cognitive equipment, despite its limitations, may have been fashioned by an intellect that far exceeds it.
What, then, of Pigliucci’s other example? He implies that, whilst humans have nipples, God most probably does not. Does this mean that proponents of the EAAN have gathered up all human characteristics, and then randomly selected cognitive reliability and its provenance as providing special warrant for theism? I don’t think so. Most definitions of God would suggest that he is without a body, which obviously includes the absence of all the bodily parts that humans, as material beings, possess. Pigliucci implicitly recognizes this, but does not seem to realize that having nipples is simply a reflection of embodied existence. It didn’t have to be that way, of course; nipples aren’t necessary features of physical existence. However, they are an example of what it means to live in a material world – something by which God, “lacking” physical form, is not bound. To say otherwise would be to reduce God to the level of physicality, another feature of the material realm, thereby robbing him of his essential infinitude. It doesn’t make sense to say that God could have nipples, or a head, or a beard – or anything else characteristic of physical existence. There is nothing arbitrary about this, for such differences rest upon natures, or essences, that can be – indeed, must be – intelligibly parsed. The reason there is a lack of identity between God and humans in certain respects is the vastly different modes of existence and being they inhabit.
On the other hand, it is possible to see how our cognitive faculties, finite as they are, might owe their ultimate existence to God. It appears to be a reasonable conclusion based upon plausible connections. Indeed, it could be said that human examples of cognition are simply limited instantiations of the far superior cognition of the Divine Mind. If it’s the case that God exists (which Pigliucci accepts for the sake of argument), then it’s an entirely rational hypothesis that he ultimately undergirds the reliability of our minds’ deliverances. If proponents of the EAAN have selected this quality over others, then it’s perhaps due to the fact that mind, above all other human characteristics, is most resistant to a philosophically naturalistic interpretation. Of all qualities, it is the one which most clearly sets humans apart from the natural world they inhabit. An unconstrained intellect – such as that possessed by God – seems to provide hypothetical warrant for the trust humans place in their own cognitive powers.
Pigliucci then analyses Plantinga’s suggestion that natural selection cannot select for true beliefs. He criticises Plantinga’s assumption by pointing out that most biologists (as well as other scientists working in the field of evolutionary theory) would not rest human cognitive development entirely upon natural selection’s shoulders. He doesn’t specifically cite any other mechanisms of evolutionary change that might account for the reliability of human cognition, although he does refer briefly to rapid brain development as an (unintended?) by-product of the burgeoning complexity of early hominid communities. But does this offer firmer ground than natural selection as an explanation for the trust we place in our cognitive faculties (if naturalism is true)? Again, I don’t think so.
First, an unintended by-product of, say, the development of human societies, seems to be less secure than natural selection as an explanation for cognitive reliability. Although it cannot select for true beliefs – only adaptive behaviour – natural selection still works according to an intelligible set of principles (e.g. selecting those behaviours that are most conducive to survival within a particular environment) that could, at times, lead to the propagation of true beliefs (via adaptive behaviour). There seems to be at least some basic kind of intentionality, or goal-directedness, inherent within natural selection that provides partial warrant for trusting the deliverances of one’s mind. But if a person’s cognitive abilities are, in the final analysis, a derivative of other (blind) forces at work, how does this explain the daily, implicit trust one places in it? Can a mere accident, which seems to have no meaning and no intelligibility, offer warrant for our epistemic and intellectual confidence? This might be a good approximation of arbitrariness – of chance, randomness, caprice and the like. If such an account is true – i.e. that human cognition and its reliability is simply an unforseen by-product – how is one then to explain its inherent, conscious, goal-directed nature?
Pigliucci states that natural selection cannot account for, say, the ability to expound Fermat’s Last Theorem. This is probably true. But why should an accidental “side-effect” of other phenomena – which themselves have evolved, largely as the result of natural selection – be seen as offering any more explanatory power? As far as I can see, it is even less satisfactory than natural selection (which can at least boast some kind of structure, and offer a partial explanatory account of how true beliefs might have come to predominate over false ones). There appears to be no firm causal link between this account and the reliability of our cognitive functions. How is it any more plausible to say that our minds are the result of accidental forces than it is to argue for natural selection as the chief causal agent? The cause (unintended by-product) jars significantly with the effect (minds that are characterised by rationality, intentionality, a “bending towards” the truth, etc).
Second, even if “mind-as-by-product” can function as some kind of explanation, it still doesn’t explain why human brains, up to the point at which they began to evolve into more sophisticated organs, should have been seen as trustworthy. Presumably their owners used them to accomplish whatever it was they were capable of. At that stage in the evolution of our species, human cognition may not have been constitutionally capable of, say, writing a sonata, or discovering the special theory of relativity. Even so, those later, more complex stages would not exist without the simpler phase(s) (where natural selection would have exerted some influence). But this brings us back to the original question – how natural selection, on naturalism, could account for true beliefs (however rudimentary). As I have indicated, I think natural selection could furnish a partial explanation for those deliverances. But what reason might we have to think that all such deliverances can be accounted for in this manner? What justification do we have for believing that natural selection will always favour true beliefs, rather than merely adaptive behaviours? And if these are still disputed questions, and the “by-product” theory of human intellectual reliability somehow rests upon these earlier iterations of human cognition (which surely has to be the case, in order for an integrated account of this phenomenon to succeed), then how can we plausibly – justifiably – rely upon higher-level instances of cognitive functioning? There’s no reason to think that further developments in mental prowess can be completely de-coupled from earlier developments that owe their existence to natural selection. Surely these mechanisms would have to “interact” at some level? However, if this is the case, the debate is dragged back to “square one.”
Third, this line of argumentation seems to miss something fundamentally salient about evolution and the behaviour of other organisms – and consequently, something about the unique significance of human cognitive faculties. Now, before moving on, I should point out that this is something that seems to afflict materialist versions of philosophical naturalism specifically. Pigliucci may or may not be such a naturalist; I have no idea. My remarks aren’t directed at him specifically, although his account of human cognition – at least in his blog post – seems to neglect the deeper issue. Moreover, it is part of the wider debate, so a few words are in order.
Let me elaborate. Whether true beliefs are the result of natural selection or are the unintended by-product of increasingly sophisticated brains (can one equate cognitive sophistication with an orientation towards truth?) is perhaps beside the point. Other, non-human organisms seem to be able to adapt to their environments without the benefit of either truth-orientation, or truth-discernment. Here, I am not referring to other mammals, or even, say, birds. One might take a bacterium, for example. Such an organism might well be adept at surviving in a changing landscape, but this proficiency could hardly be the result of the bacterium being concerned with what is “true.” This crucial element of the human mind – which, it would appear, separates us from the rest of the animal kingdom – is totally lacking in many lower species, which do not even have the ability to distinguish truth from fiction. Aside from further indicating what the EAAN argues – that evolution via natural selection does not select for true beliefs (since such organisms, “fit” though they are in the evolutionary sense, are completely lacking in beliefs or the capacity for belief-formation) – this point helps throw an important dimension of the human mind into sharp relief.
What I mean is that human cognition cannot plausibly be reduced to the constituent, material parts of the brain. It is concerned – intrinsically, one might say – with intentionality, goal-directedness and meaning. I’d also add that it has a general orientation towards truth, although it’s clear this isn’t practiced universally. That said, and as I indicated above, of all the phenomena in the natural world, it is human cognition that is most resistant to a naturalistic account – and it’s precisely because of the features of intentionality, etc. to which I have just referred. There appears to be an explanatory and metaphysical “gap” between the physical elements which compose the brain, and the various functions – as well as the inherent nature – of human cognition. To be sure, this criticism applies only to materialistic versions of naturalism (materialistic naturalism being a sub-set of the philosophical variant). However, it is held widely enough for the criticism to have at least some force. It would seem, too, that materialism – in other words, the notion that reality is composed of material “stuff” – is frequently naturalism’s bedfellow. That being the case, it is difficult to see how material processes could possibly do all the “heavy lifting” when it comes to thought and cognition. Appeals to natural selection, or some other evolutionary mechanism, do not get to the nub of the issue; if thinking consists of nothing more than the shift from one physical process to another, in accordance with causal laws (e.g. the firing of neurons, or the profusion of chemicals in the brain), then it is difficult to see where meaning, intentionality, and the like are to be found. Indeed, as the philosopher Ed Feser argues in his book The Last Superstition:
“…a belief’s truth or falsity is tied up with its meaning…on the materialist’s account, meaning plays no causal role whatsoever in any thought processes.”
This seems to me to be correct. If blind physical processes are what constitute the relations between thoughts – as materialistic versions of naturalism hold – then it effectively screens out the role of semantic meaning. Since truth and falsehood – and hence, rational cognition – are ineradicably tied to meaning, then it would appear that certain strains of philosophical naturalism cannot be rationally justified. Of course, it could be argued that non-materialistic forms of naturalism might have more success in providing a cogent account of human cognition, given evolutionary theory. Some kind of immanent teleology, for example, may do the trick (Pigliucci points to mathematical Platonism as a possibility). The EAAN doesn’t necessarily home in on this issue, preferring to limit itself to the relationship between natural selection and the propagation of true beliefs. As Pigliucci suggests, it may not have as much to say about other forms of naturalism that don’t entail materialism. Even so, I think it can point to deeper problems associated with some versions of naturalism, narrowing the field of plausible, explanatory accounts of the phenomena at hand. And given that naturalism and materialism frequently go hand-in-hand, the EAAN might be able to furnish a rebuttal to a large swathe of naturalistic thinking. At the very least, arguing about which evolutionary mechanisms might be responsible for reliable human cognition can, in fact, miss the metaphysical crux of the issue.
* * *
This piece has gone on long enough. Suffice it to say, I don’t think that all of Thibodeau and Piggliucci’s arguments against the EAAN work (at least those surveyed in this essay). I haven’t reviewed all of Pigliucci’s points, which may yet prove to be valid. He is also certainly right in highlighting some of the (less significant) limitations of Plantinga’s original contention. And, it should be said, there may well be other arguments out there which do succeed in defeating it. Nonetheless, despite what these particular critics say, I’d argue that there is still life in the EAAN.
 In deploying the EAAN, I take Plantinga to be referring to philosophical naturalism, rather than, say, methodological naturalism. The latter is simply a method of understanding and investigating the natural world, without reference to God or any super- or supra-natural agency. The former, however, makes an ontological claim about the nature and boundaries of reality. To be sure, one can make a further distinction between materialistic and non-materialistic naturalism. I recognize that Plantinga doesn’t always make such a distinction clear. However, philosophical naturalism’s materialistic sub-type seems to be implicit in this analysis. In any case, whenever I use the term “naturalism,” I am always referring to its philosophical, or metaphysical, iteration. Furthermore, its materialistic sub-type is assumed. I shall attempt to make those distinctions clear in my brief discussion of materialism towards the end of the essay.
 To be sure, I think the EAAN itself – that naturalism, when conjoined with natural selection, is self-refuting – is an argument in logic. However, this only gets one part of the way to God. As I understand Plantinga, that particular step in probabilistic, in that it takes the logical force of the EAAN to provide a platform for a theistic hypothesis. Indeed, we should remember that the argument is called the EAAN, not the EAFG (Evolutionary Argument For God) – despite the fact that most (all?) defenders are theists.