Sam Harris's Blog, page 35

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I have long maintained a page on my website where I address various distortions, misunderstandings, and criticisms of my work. I take it to be either a sign of carelessness or masochism on my part that this page is the #1 Google search result for the phrase "response to controversy."  Surely, I need not have courted quite so much controversy. But there it is.

While most of my work has been devoted to controversial topics, I have taken very few positions that I later regret. There is one, however, and I regret it more with each passing hour: it is my "collateral damage argument" for the use of torture in extreme circumstances.  This argument first appeared in The End of Faith (pp. 192-199), in a section where I compare the ethics of "collateral damage" to the ethics of torture in times of war.  I argued then, and I believe today, that collateral damage is worse than torture across the board.

However, rather than appreciate just how bad I think collateral damage is in ethical terms, many readers mistakenly conclude that I take a cavalier attitude toward the practice of torture. I do not. Nevertheless, I believe that there are extreme situations in which practices like "water-boarding" may not only be ethically justifiable, but ethically necessary—especially where getting information from a known terrorist seems likely to save the lives of thousands (or even millions) of innocent people.  To argue that torture may sometimes be ethically justified is not to argue that it should ever be legal (crimes like trespassing or theft may sometimes be ethical, while we all have interest in keeping them illegal).

I sincerely regret making this argument. Rational discussion about the ethics of torture has proved impossible in almost every case, and my published views have been the gift to my critics and detractors that just keeps on giving: It seems that every few weeks, someone discovers the relevant pages in The End of Faith, or notices what others have said about them, and publicly attacks me for being "pro-torture." Journalists regularly steer interviews on any subject in this direction—not so that they can understand my position, or coherently argue against it, but so that readers can be shocked by whatever misleading gloss appears in their final copy. The spectacle of someone not being reflexively and categorically "against torture" seems just too good to pass up.

And so, I am now a bit wiser and can offer a piece of advice to others: not everything worth saying is worth saying oneself. I am sure that the world needs someone to think out loud about the ethics of torture, and to point out the discrepancies in how we weight various harms for which we hold one another morally culpable, but that someone did not need to be me. The subject has done nothing but distract and sicken readers who might have otherwise found my work useful.

By Jonathan Derbyshire

25 April 2011

Given the amount of interest and comment that my profile of Sam Harris has attracted, I thought it'd be useful to post the complete and unedited transcript of my conversation with him. The interview took place on 11 April, at the headquarters of Random House in London.

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By Jonathan Derbyshire

Given the amount of interest and comment that my profile of Sam Harris has attracted, I thought it'd be useful to post the complete and unedited transcript of my conversation with him. The interview took place on 11 April, at the headquarters of Random House in London.

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by H. Allen Orr

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(Photo by EstudioBLAU)

Many people have noticed that there seem to be no new arguments for the truth of any of the world's religions. I recently stumbled upon one, however, and it has given me a moment's pause.

The Oxford philosopher Nick Bostrom has argued that our entire cosmos could be running as a simulation on a supercomputer of the future. This, needless to say, is a bizarre claim, but it can be defended with a few surprisingly plausible assumptions:

Bostrom's first premise is that human consciousness is the product of information processing in the brain. If this is correct, there is probably nothing magical about having the wet stuff of neurons doing the work, and it should be possible to instantiate minds like our own on a computer. Human consciousness, therefore, would be platform independent.

There are smart people who will leap off this train before it leaves the station—the mathematical physicist Roger Penrose thinks that consciousness cannot be the result of mere computation; the philosopher John Searle and the computer scientist David Gelernter believe that consciousness is a matter of computation, but there must be something special about biological neurons.  However, these appear to be minority opinions in the scientific community. The assumption that minds like our own could, in principle, be realized on a computer seems to be on reasonably firm ground.

Bostrom's second assumption is that if we survive the next few centuries without annihilating ourselves, it is just a matter of time before we build computers capable of running virtual worlds populated by virtual people. Our descendants will likely do this, the way we create video games like The Sims. They might create virtual worlds where simulated ancestors live in circumstances very much like our own. In his paper, Bostrom justifies this assumption using known principles of computation and without assuming any breakthroughs in physics.

By Jonathan Derbyshire

20 April 2011

Sam Harris, one of the "Four Horsemen" of new atheism, believes that science can never be reconciled with religion, and that it is dangerous even to try.

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Andrew Marr's guests include neuroscientist and philosopher Sam Harris, Russian writer Masha Gessen, geneticist and journalist Adam Rutherford and the Rev Lucy Winkett.

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Can scientists be religious? Sam Harris argues science and faith are completely incompatible, while Robert Winston would like to be more inclusive. Emine Saner adjudicates

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The official video of my debate with the inimitable William Lane Craig is now online and can be viewed above.

While I believe I answered (or preempted) all of Craig's substantive challenges, I've received a fair amount of criticism for not rebutting his remarks point for point. Generally speaking, my critics seem to have been duped by Craig's opening statement, in which he presumed to narrow the topic of our debate (I later learned that he insisted upon speaking first and made many other demands. You can read an amusing, behind-the-scenes account here.) Those who expected me to follow the path Craig cut in his opening remarks don't seem to understand the game he was playing. He knew that if he began, "Here are 5 (bogus) points that Sam Harris must answer if he has a shred of self-respect," this would leave me with a choice between delivering my prepared remarks, which I believed to be crucial, or wasting my time putting out the small fires he had set. If I stuck to my argument, as I mostly did, he could return in the next round to say, "You will notice that Dr. Harris entirely failed to address points 2 and 5. It is no wonder, because they make a mockery of his entire philosophy."

As I observed once during the debate, but should have probably mentioned again, Craig employs other high school debating tricks to mislead the audience: He falsely summarizes what his opponent has said; he falsely claims that certain points have been conceded; and, in our debate, he falsely charged me with having wandered from the agreed upon topic. The fact that such tricks often work is a real weakness of the debate format, especially one in which the participants are unable to address one another directly. Nevertheless, I believe I was right not to waste much time rebutting irrelevancies, correcting Craig's distortions of my published work, or taking his words out of my mouth. Instead, I simply argued for a scientific conception of moral truth and against one based on the biblical God. This was, after all, the argument that the organizer's at Notre Dame had invited me to make.