The Divine Destiny of Common Clay

Now the beautiful relationships given to us repeatedly in Scripture between God and man are those of a father to his children and a shepherd to his sheep. These concepts were first conceived in the mind of God our Father. They were made possible and practical through the work of Christ. They are confirmed and made real in me through the agency of the gracious Holy Spirit.

So when the simple - though sublime - statement is made by a man or woman that "The Lord is my Shepherd," it immediately implies a profound yet practical working relationship between a human being and his Maker.

It links a lump of common clay to divine destiny - it means a mere mortal becomes the cherished object of divine diligence. (From A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 by Phillip Keller)

You Are There in Their Hearts

But they fled that they might not see You seeing them, and blinded might stumble against You; since You forsake nothing that You have made — that the unjust might stumble against You, and justly be hurt, withdrawing themselves from Your gentleness, and stumbling against Your uprightness, and falling upon their own roughness. Forsooth, they know not that You are everywhere whom no place encompasses, and that You alone are near even to those that remove far from You. Let them, then, be converted and seek You; because not as they have forsaken their Creator have You forsaken Your creature. Let them be converted and seek You; and behold, You are there in their hearts, in the hearts of those who confess to You, and cast themselves upon You, and weep on Your bosom after their obdurate ways, even Thou gently wiping away their tears. And they weep the more, and rejoice in weeping, since Thou, O Lord, not man, flesh and blood, but Thou, Lord, who made, remakest and comfortest them. - Confessions, Book V, Chapter 2

Forgiveness is a Heart Transaction

Because the people around you are (like you) still sinners, they will fail, they will sin against you, and they will disappoint you. That is when you can extend to them the same grace you have received. Our anger, irritation, impatience, condemnation, bitterness, and vengeance will never produce good things in their lives (or ours). But God can produce good things in them when we are willing to incarnate his grace. We become part of what he is doing in their lives, instead of standing in the way. So, what does it mean practically to let the cross shape your relationships?

It means being ready, willing and able to forgive. The decision to forgive is first a heart transaction between you and God. It is a willingness to give up your desire to hold onto (and in some way punish the person for) his offense against you. Instead, you entrust the person and the offense to God, believing that he is righteous and just. You make a decision to respond to this person with an attitude of grace and forgiveness. This vertical transaction (between you and God) prepares you for the horizontal transaction of forgiveness between you and the offending person, when you are given that opportunity. - Timothy S. Lane and Paul David Trip

What Does It All Mean?

Mitch Stokes in his book, How to be an Atheist, wraps up things by pressing the consequences of naturalism even further; that is, if naturalism is true, it not only means that moral nihilism is true (there are no objective, human independent standards of right and wrong), but nihilism is true. Nihilism would imply that there's nothing objectively valuable about our lives, nothing independent of us. Our lives have no objective worth or meaning. As Richard Dawkins himself says, "The universe that we observe has precisely the properties we should expect if there is, at bottom, no design, no purpose, no evil, no good, nothing but pitiless indifference." So, nothing matters. But is that so bad? Philosopher Thomas Nagel asks, "Does it matter that it doesn't matter?" His thought is why not adopt the following attitude:
"It's enough that it matters whether I get to the station before my train leaves, or whether I've remembered to feed the cat. I don't need more than that to keep going....[but, he cautions it] only works if you really can avoid setting your sights higher, and asking what the point of the whole thing is."
And so, I guess, we all make our own meaning...or not. Life doesn't have to have meaning if you don't want it to. Stokes sums up this approach to meaning:

If meaning is really grounded in a valuer, then we'll never find meaning outside of persons. There is, then, no meaning from the universe's point of view; universes aren't the kinds of things that can have points of views. Or values. So, in one sense the bar is set very low; if you find something meaningful, then it is meaningful. If you value something, then it is valuable. To you. Your values are not my values, just as your feelings are not my feelings, nor are your beliefs my beliefs, strictly speaking. Of course, you and I can value the same kinds of things. That is, we might both find meaning in the same cause, for example. We might both value communism or education or world peace or gardening.

So when we think about meaning and God, how is finding meaning in God any different than finding meaning in gardening, painting, cocaine, pornography, or communism? Is God just one choice among many? On one hand God is very different from these other things: he is holy and set apart, not part of the world; according to Christianity, the world and everything in it are his; he is the ultimate authority regardless of what we think. Moreover, God has designed us to only function properly when we love the things he loves and hate the things he hates. We flourish when our preferences align with his. And because this is God's show, the things he finds meaningful are as objective as things get, in that they're human independent (but not person independent). They are in a very real sense, eternal values.

On the other hand, we can in a sense choose God from among other things. This is clear as we often don't value what God values. If we were to argue that his values are objective, universal values, they certainly do not dictate our every action...believer or non-believer. So, it's not a forgone conclusion that we'll value what God values, or find meaning where he does. We can apparently choose to align with or against God. Stokes concludes:

But the point is this. The cosmos is profoundly personal. It's a place where the highest value turns out to be place of relationships. God calls us to a relationship of mutual love. In fact, God himself is a relationship among divine persons....It is only in the proper relation to these persons that we find value and meaning that are ultimately satisfying.

For me, moral obligation to God leads us to be what humans were meant to be; obedience and commitment to God make us fully human. Moral nihilism raises humans to be no higher than being a collection of atoms banging together who only aspire to getting to the train on time and calling it a day. In this sense, in order to be fully human, the ground of moral obligation cannot be human, but something or rather someone who knows what we ought to become. Trapped in our human bubble, we cannot see outside of ourselves to determine that standard or agree to what it should be. So, we muddle along until we are shown what we can and should be.

As the old hymn puts it - and as Stokes ends his book - "This is my Father's world."

The Price of Autonomy

Stokes begins the penultimate chapter of his book with this summary:

I began my discussion of morality with Dostoyevsky's nagging question, if God is dead, is everything permissible? You've no doubt gleaned that my short answer is yes: without God there are no universally binding moral rules. Sure, there are all manner of "moral" rules that we impose on ourselves and others. But none of these are actually binding in the way we imagine moral laws to be. If naturalism is true, there's no morality apart from what humans value, want, or prefer. Morality is purely a matter of taste, In short, naturalism implies moral nihilism, the view that there are no human-independent moral rules.

But despite this logical connection, most atheists are not nihilists. Why wouldn't they follow the logical path set out by Stokes and agree with his conclusion? Stokes concludes that the reason is basically that nihilism is too disturbing. He writes, "Ted Bundy? Jeffrey Dahmer? The Asmat people of New Guinea? Their behavior isn't wrong? Could it be true that there's nothing wrong with skinning someone alive? Is it plausible that my revulsion toward this kind of horror differs only in degree from my revulsion toward cold, slimy asparagus? It's going to be hard to get naturalists to sign up for this; nihilism is not an easy position to rally around." To the Asmat people of New Guinea, the nihilist can only say, "I wouldn't do that, but I guess you can."

As philosopher Albert Camus said, "It is always easy to be logical. It is almost impossible to be logical to the bitter end."

Then one has to consider that if the conclusions of nihilism are wrong, then perhaps nihilism is wrong, and then perhaps naturalism itself is wrong. If naturalism cannot authoritatively state that Ted Bundy's actions are wrong, then sober skepticism should call into doubt the validity of naturalism and have us consider the validity of the alternative: the existence of God.

To me, and Stokes mentions this, the battle of worldviews comes down to the question of autonomy. If nihilism is true, one could argue that we are not bound to any morality. What we endorse in the deepest recesses of our hearts, is up to us: "Autonomy, you'll recall is really the most important thing that humans can value, according to Enlightenment thinkers. They wanted the freedom to think, say, and act as they wished, without any interference from "the Man," whether it be the church, traditional philosophy, the state, or whoever."

Philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre laments that autonomy: "man is condemned to be free: condemned, because he did not create himself, yet nonetheless free, because once cast into the world, he is responsible for everything he does."

Perhaps, with nihilism, the Enlightenment got more than it bargained for.

We'll wrap this series up on the next post.

Morality Grounded in God or Someone or Something Else?

In this next chapter, Stokes explores how God can be used as a ground for morality. In this post, I don't have the space to discuss Euthyphro's objection from Plato's dialogue or the divine command theory - both discussed expensively in this chapter. The former is based on a question posed by Socrates in response to Euthyphro's assertion that pious acts are those that are loved by the gods. Socrates counters after realizing that this definition is ambiguous: are the acts pious because the gods love them, or do the gods love these acts because these acts or pious? The dilemma is that either moral value depends on God and is therefore arbitrary (i.e., it depends simply on what he likes and dislikes); or else the source of moral value is independent of God entirely. Euthyphro's dilemma challenges the divine command theory which states that morality is based on God's preferences and not on the intrinsic nature of an impersonal cosmos. So, morality is based on God's preferences which are founded on his nature. Since it's based on God' preferences, is God's morality arbitrary? Sort of...one could argue. But God always acts consistently within his character, therefore, morality may be arbitrary (his preferences) but it's not capricious (consistent in his character). Like I mentioned, I can't cover all of this in detail. A Google search will provide plenty of information on the topic. But what Stokes wants to get across is that, in his opinion and among some atheists, there is agreement that morality isn't objective in the sense of being person independent; it's person dependent: God or someone else. And for the former, God's nature determines what is good and good is defined as "what God values."

The next critical question Stokes addresses is, "Why should we obey God?" Why are his preferences more authoritative than human preferences? What is it about God that makes him (relevantly) different from humans? Should we obey him because if we didn't he would punish us? Is it because he created us and so has authority over us? These reasons don't sit well with atheists and a number of Christians. Does might make right? In strictly human relationships, do we owe allegiance to another person simply because that being is stronger or responsible for our existence? Should a child obey an abusive parent just because the parent brought him into the world? The child may obey in order to avoid more physical pain, but is he morally obligated - is it the right thing to do - to obey that parent? I think most of us would respond no to that question. Stokes notes that most theists aren't motivated primarily because God is stronger, nor even because he created them. They obey God because they want to.

Of course, God is God and his authority and power are awesome and, as the ruler of the universe, he can be its lawgiver and can tell us what is permissible and what is not. But this is one reason why atheists find God so distasteful: they see him as an overbearing authoritarian dictator. But theists see God differently. As in a human family, children obey often enough not out of fear of punishment, but because they love their parents, feel loved by them, and are grateful for the care and comfort their parents provide. There's a sense of loyalty and belonging. In a real sense, believers obey God because they want to; and they want to because they value certain things. And God can influence that alignment of values through "regeneration" and "sanctification"; through those processes, God's values become our values. Humans become better humans when they align with God's values and image.

There is certainly more to discuss about how morality can be grounded in God. But a strong argument can be made that God's morality is not capricious; while it reflects his values and preferences, his standards can be known, and they do not change. Subjective, yes, but there are standards: torturing a kitten is always wrong; rape is always wrong; adultery is always wrong. Without God, morality becomes subject to changing human values, preferences, and needs. Why is one human's preferences or one group's preferences more authoritative than another's? We are all equally human. We can't say that rape is always wrong and adultery is always wrong. As a matter of fact, the latter used to be wrong according to social and political human morality, but not anymore. It probably doesn't feel wrong to the adulterers, but it probably seems wrong to the offended spouse. Which preference or value rules the day? Society still holds that rape is wrong, but why? Because the offender will get arrested by the government? If there was no law against rape (like in Nanking during the Japanese invasion of China) would it still be wrong? If so, why is one human preference more authoritative than another? If morality is not independent of humans, then how do we know which of our values and preferences are right? Who is the valuer we ought to obey? Who or what becomes the moral umpire?

These are difficult questions that I'm trying to sort through and make sense of. I know what I believe, but one of the purposes for me reading this book is to try to understand those on the other side. That is, how do they reconcile the problems that I see when I apply sober skepticism to the belief that God does not exist?

Stokes explores some of these questions in the next chapter.

Morality is Personal

In the last few chapters of the book, Stokes argues for the personal and subjective nature of morality. The subjective part is interesting and counter to the beliefs of most Christians: most of us argue that that there are objective moral standards, usually making a reference to Romans 1:20-21. While I'm sure Stokes would assert that God's moral values are True in an objective sense, he argues from a position of subjectivity first; in the opening sentence of chapter 16 he writes, "[Sam] Harris and I agree on at least one thing: we both believe that all value - including moral value - requires a valuing subject." He continues:

...if all value depends on a conscious valuer [a person], on a valuing subject, and if naturalism is true, then all value is entirely dependent upon human preference, and therefore, fails to be authoritative in the way morality requires.

Something is valuable because a conscious mind places value upon it. Gold is valuable because humans place a value on it. However, if I'm stuck on a desert island with no food or water, but find a pirate's gold treasure, the value of that gold diminishes in light of my current needs, wants, preferences, and values. In my home where I have food and water, the gold becomes valuable again. Values fluctuate depending on the valuer and circumstances. In a closed system with only human valuers, there are no objective values...they will change with needs and preferences. In this closed system, who is determine which needs, preferences, or values are authoritative? In this system, moral obligation - moral duty, the "ought" - disappears. Social and political obligations do not have the authority of moral obligation; that is, things one must do or not do regardless of human preferences, needs, desires, or values.

If morality is subjective, then there must be subjects; therefore, obligations are relational. The moral concepts of right, wrong, and obligation require a mind, someone to do the permitting, the forbidding, or the requiring, and, similarly, someone to do the obeying: "Right, wrong, and obligation are concepts related to the actions that people perform in relation to some standard set by another person or persons." I think this is an important point. Harris' concepts of well-being - of suffering and happiness - are not complete. If a tree falls on me in the woods and breaks my leg - and my well- being suffers - is the tree "wrong"? Should the tree be punished for the suffering it inflicted upon me? No. So, although my well-being was diminished, no moral violation occurred. It seems we need more than mere "well-being" for morality, and one of the additional things we need is a community of person.

While standards of morality are based on what we value, this doesn't mean that there isn't anything objective about morality: there can be an objective fact of the matter about whether something meets a moral standard, even if the standard itself if subjective. For example, if a knife ought to be sharp, then we can determine if a knife meets that standard of sharpness. Once we deem reneging on a promise to be wrong, it's an objective fact that your reneging is wrong. Regardless, the point is the same: according to Stokes, moral standards are a matter of preference, of what persons value.

Stokes also brings up the concept of function, in particular, in relation to what makes a good person. A good doctor is someone who can help a person gain health; a good accountant is someone who can keep track of money. But what makes a good person? A good person performs the function of a person. A good person is what a person ought to be. Of course, this assumes a person has a function, that they're for something, that they have an end or telos. If naturalism is true, what is a human for? Well, says who? It would appear that humans don't have an objective (human-independent) function. A telos or end or goal seems to require a mind that can have that goal in mind. Can humans agree on what the end of being human is? Under naturalism, the purposes or goals will vary from one person to the other. Good is ultimately defined by us. What makes a person good is whatever we say makes a person good.

In the next chapter, Stokes asks if humans cannot ultimately ground morality, can God?.

Is/Ought Distinction

Remembering the last post, Sam Harris is trying to move from descriptive physical facts ("is")about the well-being of sentient creatures to value judgments ("ought") about such facts: "That is, what Harris would really like is for science to be able to determine value." Let's say that science can give use objective facts about the well-being of conscious creatures; for example, science can show us that a person's well-being is increased when he receives a massage; brain synapses fire, endorphins are released, etc. Physiologically, well-being is improved. OK, but from this point, Harris needs to be able to infer or otherwise move from these purely physical facts about brain states to statements about what we ought to do. Massages increase well-being. Does that mean I have to get one? Going back to the last post, this sounds like prudential value, not moral value. In other words, there is an implied "if"; if I want to feel better, I should get regular massages. But is it evil or wrong if I don't? Stokes points out: "Even if science can tell us which things will result in an increase of well-being, it can't tell us we ought to value well-being - even our own, much less someone else's. Peter Singer writes:"...information about the consequences of our actions does not tell us which consequences to value, but only which action will or will not bring about the consequences we do value...."

Science cannot dictate or determine what to value. Stokes argues, "What we value morally is up to us, not science." (I'm interested in how he'll unpack this statement.] If science states, "You must value your well-being and the well-being of others above all things!" A reasonable response could be, "Why? And why should I listen to you?"

Ok, if science isn't the source of moral obligation, what or who is?

Morality and Well-Being

Sam Harris, famous atheist and neuroscientist, wrote a book on how morality can stand on its own without being propped up by God. In his book, The Moral Landscape: How Science Can Determine Human Values, Harris grounds morality in the "well-being" of conscious creatures [including some animals] and "depends entirely on events in the world and on states of the human brain" into which science can speak. Harris defines good as anything that "supports well-being" and bad as that which causes harm: "It seems uncontroversial to say that a change that leaves everyone worse off, by an rational standard, can be reasonably called 'bad,' if this word is to have any meaning at all." Later he writes, "A rational approach to ethics becomes possible once we realize that questions of right and wrong are really questions about the happiness and suffering of sentient creatures." This view is similar to 19th utilitarianism which held that morality is what promotes the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people."

This is a worthwhile theory to consider, but there are some issues with it; for example, can we always know the greatest good? How do individuals experience the "greatest good" or collective happiness? If morality is determined by a state of the brain ("well-being"), how can we experience a brain state other than our own? As Stokes writes: "The maximum pleasure ever experienced by anyone is still that of a sole individual's brain state. A collective or additive happiness or well-being is something that no one experiences. It doesn't exist." And when this state of well-being is expanded beyond the human species to certain animals, determining the collective well-being becomes even more difficult. According to ethicist Peter Singer, our moral actions, in some cases, have to consider the well-being of animals: "[In considering pain] the principle of equal consideration of interests demand that we give equal weight to the interests of the human and the mouse." If a true, moral system is to tell us what we ought to do in any given situation, the task become more difficult when we have to consider not only the greater good of the humans involved, but animals, too. And since animals cannot communicate as clearly as humans, in many cases, humans would have to guess about the well-being of the animals and impart our values on them; thereby, risking protests of speciesism.

The other potential problem to consider is, how subjective are Harris' morals? Harris' morality seems to focus on "prudential goods"; that is, those that are good for the subject or the person. Prudential values appear to be conditional rather than absolute. There's always an "if"; for example, if you don't want painful cavities, you should go to the dentist. The lack of cavities is certainly a state of well-being, but not going to the dentist and avoiding the anxiety and discomfort of drilling is also a state of well-being. It's hard to declare from a state of well-being perspective that a person "ought" to go to the dentist. Harris' morality seems to be prudential...conditional. Non-prudential, moral values don't seem to be conditional in this way; for example, you ought to love your neighbor no matter what, regardless of what you or anyone else thinks; regardless of your goals, desires, or needs.

I guess the question is, can Harris' state of well-being morality tell us what we must do - what we ought to do? Does it have the authority and clarity?

A Mistake We Were Born to Make

Mitch Stokes begins Chapter 13 of his book, How to be an Atheist, with a quote from ethicist Peter Singer and evolutionary biologist Marc Hauser on the evidence for the evolution of morality:

[studies] provide empirical support for the idea that like other psychological faculties of the mind, including language and mathematics, we are endowed with a moral faculty that guides our intuitive judgments of right and wrong, interacting in interesting ways with the local culture. These intuitions reflect the outcome of millions of years in which our ancestors have lived as social animals, and are part of our common inheritance, as much as our opposable thumbs are.

Stokes summarizes the position: "The general picture is this: our moral beliefs have been fashioned over time to help us survive. 'Ethical' behavior tends to keep us alive long enough to produce the next generation."

But the question remains: Can evolution really explain our moral sense?

To atheists holding this position, everything people (or anything) does is for survival, even altruism. We are nice to other people - sometimes self-sacrificing our well-being for another - because that act will create a society or environment that is more likely to propagate the species. For example, by being altruistic to kin, we establish a close knit group - family - that serves as a positive environment to raise and protect children. So, even altruism is selfish.

Atheists argue that our sense of right and wrong has evolved to increase chances for the survival of the species. Therefore, morals do not come from outside of nature...not from God. Moral obligations are useful, and don't have to come from some authority; in other words, moral realism (objectivity) is not necessary. We may think that morals are independent of our minds - some objective standard we are tapping into from God - but that's not the case. Morals are just "common sense." As Harvard psychologist Joshua Greene writes:

...we are naturally inclined toward a mistaken belief in moral realism. The psychological tendencies that encourage this false belief serve an important biological purpose, and that explains why we should find moral realism so attractive even though it is false. Moral realism is, once again, a mistake we were born to make.

Evolution has been quite clever so far.

And, of course, if evolution has given us our moral sense, then that moral sense can change. We probably haven't arrived yet as a species, so our morals are also evolving. With time, then, do our moral beliefs improve? And if so what does that look like? If survival and propagation of the species are the trajectory, then one could argue that certain behaviors that we currently find untoward could aid survival: rape, aggression, xenophobia, and male promiscuity. More babies, be wary of strangers, destroy potential threats to survival. These are certainly natural inclinations, yet they now offend us. We choose to consider them wrong. As Stokes notes, since morality is up to us, however, we can choose to put rape and aggression on the immoral list. This is good news. But the bad news is that morality seems to be merely a matter of preference. We can choose our standards.

Finally, while the overarching goal of evolution is survival at any cost, "nothing in evolution says that you ought to value your own survival above all else." This sentiment is summarized by atheist Jerry Coyne:
"How can you derive meaning, purpose, or ethics from evolution? You can't. Evolution is simply a theory about the process and patterns of life's diversification, not a grand philosophical scheme about the meaning of life. It can't tell us what to do, or how we should behave."

OK. Maybe evolution cannot tell us what we ought to do, but naturalists have posited other ways that we can account for objective moral standards without God. That's next.

Feeling Moral

In this chapter, Stokes answers some miscellaneous questions before he goes deeper into his argument in chapter 13, where he pokes at evolution to see how it can account for objective morality.

Here's some passages I plucked out that I found interesting:

No one - or no one I know - thinks that atheists can behave [morally]. Atheists can love their spouses, care for the poor, desire world peace, and enjoy long walks on the beach. Atheists can behave in accord with traditional moral standards, regardless of whether naturalism can ground these standards. We've all seen it done. The real question is whether naturalism can support or account for the moral standards themselves.

We have such a powerful sense of objective right and wrong that we often can't imagine alternatives....And therefore many people - philosophers included - mistake the strength and universality of our moral beliefs for an argument that these beliefs are true. Atheist philosopher Kai Neilsen claims that morality needs not be justified by religion. Why does he think this? He explains:
"Torturing human beings is vile; exploiting and degrading human beings is through and through evil; cruelty to human beings and animals is, morally speaking, unacceptable; and treating one's promises lightly or being careless about the truth is wrong. If we know anything to be wrong we know these things to be wrong and they would be wrong and just as wrong in a Godless world and in a world in which personal annihilation is inevitable as in a world with God and in which there is eternal life."

[Yes, but to say that] "we all know these things are wrong, and that they would be wrong even if there were no God, is to beg the question. After all, this is what we're questioning. At this point...this is a conclusion that must be argued for, not merely restated." In other words, if we grant that we all know these things are wrong, we have to ask what makes them wrong. That's the goal.

Stokes goes on to show how Hume - the great skeptic - concluded that morals are subjective, but they feel like they are not. Yet - according to Hume - this should not be disconcerting because even though morals are subjective, we feel and act as if they are not. That is they seem objective and humans act accordingly. We get the authority of objective morals without having to admit that we are beholden to a supernatural law giver. Most naturalist do not follow Hume to this conclusion that there is nothing more to morals than the strength of our convictions, but if that is the case, what is the naturalists justification for our morals? If they are to hold to their sober skepticism, they'll need to base morals on something more than strong feelings.

For help. let's turn to Darwin.

The Enlightenment Project

Beginning in Chapter 11 to the end of the book, Stokes sets out to challenge "The Enlightenment Project," an attempt starting during the Enlightenment to ground morality in something else than God. Stokes will argue "that given the very nature of morality, if God does not exist - that is, if naturalism is true - there can be no morality in the robust sense that we understand it. Morality, whatever else it turned out to be, would be grounded in nothing more than human preference." Princeton University ethicist Peter Singer agrees:

Without the notion of an independent moral reality to back them up, however, claims made on behalf of these moral rules or principles can be no more than expressions of personal preferences which, from the collective point of view, should receive no more weight than other preferences.

From all of this, Stokes will argue the following point: If naturalism is true - if God does not exist and everything arises from natural causes and laws - then there is no morality. By "no morality" Stokes means there is not objective morality, no morality that is independent of human beliefs and desires. And if this is the case, then morality wouldn't have the kind of authority we need. As the great atheist J.L. Mackie wrote:

We need morality to regulate interpersonal relations, to control some of the ways in which people behave towards one another, often in opposition to contrary inclinations. We therefore want our moral judgments to be authoritative for other agents as well as for ourselves: objective validity would give them the authority required.

Atheists, obviously, hold that there can be morality without God. Stokes - applying our grid of sober skepticism - will attempt to show that this position should - at minimal - be controversial, and is, more than likely, untenable.