Contra Dawkins, Parts 3 and 4

Part III: de Deo, an Deus sit

And now we come to the substance of the matter: Is God, as conceived by theistic believers, real or a projection? (Or could the answer be ‘a bit of both’?) If you’ve followed me this far, and read my previous posts on the new atheism, by now you should have realised that Richard Dawkins doesn’t seem to have done much substantial research on ‘the God argument’. In fact, he seems almost exclusively to have read books and articles by people he knows already agree with him. There is certainly strong evidence of confirmation bias throughout Dawkins' anti-theistic writings. At any rate, he hasn’t carefully studied the views of genuine theistic philosophers – as opposed to the hypothetical 'religious apologists' that many pop atheists spend their time disparaging at length.

By ‘carefully studied’, I mean that he may have read or browsed some of their works, in part – maybe – but hasn’t taken the time to understand their arguments fully. Instead, he spends just enough time studying these arguments that he can successfully misunderstand them and then unsuccessfully refute them. Among the arguments that Dawkins misunderstands at length in The God Delusion, there are a number of importance: 

1. the ‘Five Ways’ of Thomas Aquinas (Chapter 3),
2. the kalam cosmological argument (Chapter 3),
3. the ontological argument (Chapter 3),
4. the ‘argument from scripture’ (Chapter 3),
5. the argument from ‘irreducible complexity’ for Intelligent Design (Chapter 4), and
6. the ‘fine-tuning argument’ for God (Chapter 4). 

He discusses other, less significant, arguments more briefly, as well. We'll look at some of them below. However, before we get to discussing these arguments further, I would like to list several works that Dawkins should have read before writing these chapters on God’s existence.

The first book that I would like to mention is Brian Davies’ An Introduction to the Philosophy of Religion, 3rd edition (Oxford University Press, 2004). Never underestimate a good textbook, and this is a pretty good one. If you are to advance at all in discussion of the existence of God, you need to familiarise yourself with the core concepts of the philosophy of religion and Davies goes through them carefully. Had Dawkins read this book – really read it – prior to writing The God Delusion, he might have realised his errors regarding the concepts of ‘God’ and ‘faith’ (and their relationship to classical philosophy), as well as developing a better understanding of arguments for the existence of God, such as the ontological and cosmological arguments.

OK, in all probability reading this book would not have influenced Dawkins much at all, considering his attitudes toward theology and philosophy. The reality is, learning requires a willingness to understand, not just a willingness to attack like a rabid Rottweiler. Still, if he had wanted to learn, this would have been a good book to start with. Had Dawkins really wanted to understand, he'd have studied Davies book (or something similar) carefully, and quickly realised his need for further study.

Once he had mastered all that Davies’ small book had to teach him, our new-and-improved Dawkins – thirsting for new knowledge – would undoubtedly have moved on to more advanced works. If he had dug deep into the archives of Oxford University's many libraries, there he may have found a copy of Reginald Garrigiou-Lagrange’s God: His Existence and His Nature, 5^th edition (2 vols., B. Herder Book Company, 1949), one of the best discussions on the topic from the early twentieth-century. (See volume 1 here, and volume 2 here.) Dawkins would have learned from this book, written in the Thomistic tradition, exactly how he had failed in his interpretation of Aquinas’ Five Ways. If he was looking for something a little bit newer, he could have read William Lane Craig’s Reasonable Faith: Christian Truth and Apologetics, 2^nd edition (Crossway Books, 1994; 3^rd ed., 2007), Stephen T. Davis’ God, Reason & Theistic Proofs (Edinburgh University Press, 1997); or Richard Swinburne’s The Existence of God, 2^nd edition (Clarendon Press, 2004).

At this point, or probably well before it, our new-and-improved Dawkins would start to wonder if atheists and agnostics have anything better in the vault than Bertrand Russell’s Why I am Not a Christian and Other Essays. He would quickly discover that they do. (It would be really boring if they didn’t.) The God of the Philosophers (Oxford University Press, 1979), one of the modern classics of the philosophy of religion, written by none other than the much-despised Anthony Kenny (yes, that Anthony Kenny, of 'obscuritanist' infamy), would seem like a dream compared to Sam Harris’ nightmarish pseudo-intellectual trash, The End of Faith. (Yes, I am a little irate about that one. Don’t get me started on Jerry Coyne..) Finally, he would come upon J.L. Mackie’s The Miracle of Theism (Cambridge University Press, 1982), and Jordan Howard Sobel’s Logic and Theism (Cambridge Univeristy Press, 2003); and begin to understand just how ignorant he really is of this vast topic. But only begin to understand – first he’d need to go back and read Plato, Aristotle, Plotinus, Augustine, Anselm, Aquinas, Maimonides, Descartes, Hume, Kant and Nietzsche. Then, just to be sure he understood them all correctly, he would want to read some of the many contemporary studies of their works. At this point he should be weeping in the proverbial sack-cloth and ashes at his own ignorance-fuelled arrogance. Then, he would decide not the write The God Delusion and the world would be spared another pseudo-intellectual, anti-theistic rant.

So much for fairy-tales. Now back to reality. None of that happened. Dawkins has, apparently, at least browsed Mackie’s book. He’s familiar enough with it to mildly criticise Mackie for taking the ontological argument too seriously (as Dawkins sees it). If Dawkins had spent more time taking theistic arguments seriously, he’d have written a better book himself. (Personally, I’m not a fan of the ontological argument, but Dawkins can’t even criticise that argument without descending into incoherent ridicule.) In the end, we’re stuck with the real, unimproved Dawkins. We’re also stuck with all the trash published by the new atheists in the wake of the 'God Delusion' publishing phenomenon. So, now we have to continue exposing Dawkins’ ignorance, because he couldn’t be bothered to do it himself.

Part IV: Quinta Via + 1

In the Summa Theologiae, one of the most ambitious theological projects ever written, Thomas Aquinas very briefly discusses ‘Five Ways’ in which one can prove that God exists. Of these, the first three are distinct versions of the cosmological argument, the fourth is an argument from degrees of perfection and the fifth is a version of the teleological argument. Thomas Aquinas summarises the ‘First Way’ in the Summa Theologiae I.2.3:

The first and more manifest way is the argument from motion. It is certain, and evident to our senses, that in the world some things are in motion. Now whatever is in motion is put in motion by another, for nothing can be in motion except it is in potentiality to that towards which it is in motion; whereas a thing moves inasmuch as it is in act. For motion is nothing else than the reduction of something from potentiality to actuality. But nothing can be reduced from potentiality to actuality, except by something in a state of actuality. Thus that which is actually hot, as fire, makes wood, which is potentially hot, to be actually hot, and thereby moves and changes it. Now it is not possible that the same thing should be at once in actuality and potentiality in the same respect, but only in different respects. For what is actually hot cannot simultaneously be potentially hot; but it is simultaneously potentially cold. It is therefore impossible that in the same respect and in the same way a thing should be both mover and moved, i.e. that it should move itself. Therefore, whatever is in motion must be put in motion by another. If that by which it is put in motion be itself put in motion, then this also must needs be put in motion by another, and that by another again. But this cannot go on to infinity, because then there would be no first mover, and, consequently, no other mover; seeing that subsequent movers move only inasmuch as they are put in motion by the first mover; as the staff moves only because it is put in motion by the hand. Therefore it is necessary to arrive at a first mover, put in motion by no other; and this everyone understands to be God.

If you have difficulty understanding what all of this means, then good. I quote this section primarily to illustrate a point: Aquinas presupposes knowledge of some rather technical metaphysical ideas that are entirely absent from Dawkins' discussion of the Five Ways. This is crucial, because, in order to understand Aquinas’ arguments, you need to have a background understanding of his metaphysics, which is grounded in Aristotelian philosophy. When Dawkins chose to try refuting Aquinas, he had no idea what he was getting himself into. Consequently, Dawkins simply reinterprets Aquinas in a way that is convenient for him and relatively comprehensible to the philosophically uneducated modern reader. Instead of recognising the distinctiveness of Aquinas’ three cosmological arguments, Dawkins simply conflates all of them with the kalam cosmological argument, which is odd, considering the fact that Aquinas never defended the kalam argument.

Christopher F.J. Martin summarises Aquinas’ First Way, in his book Thomas Aquinas: God and Explanations (Edinburgh University Press, 1997), as follows:

1. It is certain — it is obvious to the senses — that in this world some things are in [the] process of change.
2. But everything that is in the process of change, has that change initiated in it by something else.
3. But if that which initiates the change is itself in [the] process of change, then it too must have its change initiated by something else: and so on.
4. We cannot go on to infinity in this line,

5.  So we have to come to some first initiator of change which is not in the process of change initiated by something else, and everyone understands that this is God. 

There are some things you need to understand about this argument. Firstly, in the quote above, Aquinas refers to 'motion'. Martin correctly reinterprets ‘motion’ as 'change', because Aquinas’ conception of ‘motion’ is much broader than the modern conception of motion. Secondly, 'change' is understood by Aquinas (following Aristotle) to be the reduction of potency (potentiality) to act (actuality). This distinction is crucial to understanding Aquinas' First and Second Ways. (See the links above for further details.) Thirdly, the issue here is not just that the idea of an infinite regress is intuitively implausible, but rather that, in order for there to be any ‘motion’, or change, at all, change must ultimately have a cause: Like the current in an electrical wire must ultimately have a source in a generator, because, although electrical wire can hold a current, no part of the electrical wire can possibly be the origin of that current. So, you must postulate something very different (a generator) to explain the existence of the electrical current. Similarly, to explain the existence of change, you must postulate the existence of an Unmoved Mover – an immutable Prime Mover, that is the originator of change. Fourthly, you cannot simply suggest that, if the sequence of causes of change were infinitely long, then you would not need a ‘First Cause’, because even if the sequence of causes were infinite, that would not explain why change occurs.  For that, you need to postulate a First Cause of change, or ‘motion’.

Aquinas elaborated on this argument in the Summa Contra Gentiles:

"In an ordered series of movers and things moved (this is a series in which one is moved by another according to an order), it is necessarily the fact that, when the first mover is removed or ceases to move, no other mover will move or be moved. For the first mover is the cause of motion for all the others. But, if there are movers and things moved following an order to infinity, there will be no first mover, but all would be as intermediate movers. Therefore, none of the others will be able to be moved, and thus nothing in the world will be moved...
That which moves as an instrumental cause cannot move unless there be a principal moving cause. But, if we proceed to infinity among movers and things moved, all movers will be as instrumental causes, because they will be moved movers and there will be nothing as a principal mover. Therefore, nothing will be moved." (1.13.14-15)

Edward Feser, a Thomist philosopher, explains this argument more simply in his Scholastic Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction (editiones scholasticae, 2014), pp. 151-2:

 "The basic idea, then, is that since the later members of a causal series ordered per se [necessarily] have no causal power on their own but derive their power entirely from a cause which does have such power inherently - a cause which, as it were, uses the others as instruments - there is no sense to be made of such a series having no such first member. If a first member who is the source of the causal power of the others did not exist, the series as a whole simply would not exist, as the movement of the stone and the stick cannot occur in the absence of the hand. In other words, a series without such a first member would be like an instrument that is not the instrument of anything. “But even the unlearned perceive how ridiculous it is to suppose that instruments are moved, unless they are set in motion by some principal agent” (Aquinas, Compendium of Theology 1.3)."

Nothing that Dawkins says in The God Delusion addresses this argument. Dawkins claims that the first three ways ‘make the entirety unwarranted assumption that God is immune to regress’ (p. 77). Actually, this ‘assumption’ is not unwarranted, but a necessary implication of the argument. For the argument is intended to prove that an infinite regress of the kind Aquinas is discussing is impossible. Therefore, one must postulate the existence of a first uncaused cause. This first cause cannot be material, because the material universe is constantly changing, even right down to the quantum level. Therefore, the First Cause, is unchanging, self-existent (i.e., uncaused and eternal), immaterial being. Aquinas goes on later to argue that the First Cause must have other characteristics, as well, including intelligence, simplicity, perfection and goodness. This, Aquinas says, “everyone understands to be God”. Considering the classical definition of God, it seems hard to argue with that conclusion.

Dawkins further comments:

Even if we allow the dubious luxury of arbitrarily conjuring up a terminator to an infinite regress and giving it a name, simply because we need one, there is absolutely no reason to endow that terminator with any of the properties normally ascribed to God: omnipotence, omniscience, goodness, creativity of design, to say nothing of such human attributes as listening to prayers, forgiving sins and reading innermost thoughts (pp. 77-8).

A few comments need to be made here: Firstly, ‘God’ is not so much a name as a term used in place of a concept applied to a Being that is intelligent, unchanging, self-existent (i.e., uncaused and eternal), immaterial, simple and perfectly good. Secondly, as we have seen, this ‘terminator’ of the infinite regress is not arbitrary, but a necessary conclusion of the argument. Thirdly, while it is not immediately obvious that the First Cause should be omnipotent, omniscient, good, etc., Aquinas - through meticulous philosophical analysis (Summa Theologiae I.3-11), of which Richard Dawkins seems incapable - shows that the First Cause must, indeed, have these characteristics. Fourthly, even if one cannot deduce that such a Being listens to prayers, forgives sins, etc. from the argument, that does not mean that these attributes are incompatible with such a Being. Instead, what it means is that, if you choose to believe in such things, further argument is needed to establish the reasonableness of belief in these things. (Incidentally, how is 'reading innermost thoughts' a human attribute? The only thoughts we have access to are our own, and we don't 'read' them, we think them. Did Dawkins even proof-read what he wrote before it went to print?)

Dawkins continues his discussion of the argument by suggesting, “it is more parsimonious to conjure up, say, a 'big bang singularity', or some other physical concept as yet unknown” (p. 78). Firstly, I’m pretty certain there is no such thing as a ‘physical concept’, for concepts are, by definition, immaterial. Therefore, Dawkins' use of this phrase is either oxymoronic or a sloppy use of the English language. Secondly, and more importantly, the ‘big bang singularity’ is simply a term used by cosmologists to describe the initial state of the cosmos at the moment immediately following the origination of the cosmos. So, it cannot be the cause of the cosmos. Thirdly, and most crucially, this objection has nothing to do with Aquinas’ first three ways, which have nothing to do with cosmology (the study of the development of the cosmos) or cosmogony (the origin of the cosmos) and everything to do with ontology, that is, the more fundamental metaphysical issue of 'being' or existence: 'Why does anything exist, at all?'

The rest of Dawkins' discussion – about how many times you can ‘cut’ gold, before it ceases to be gold (p. 78) – is irrelevant to Aquinas’ arguments, which further shows that he misunderstands the real issues.

One final issue (followed by a detour): Much of Dawkins discussion is based on a confusion of different types of cosmological argument. Aquinas’ arguments do not argue for a beginning of the universe. The kalam cosmological argument does, however. The kalam argument is actually very different from the First Way - or, for that matter, from any of Aquinas’ cosmological arguments. To repeat, Aquinas’ arguments do not argue that the universe must have a beginning, whereas the metaphysical impossibility of an eternal universe is at the heart of the kalam argument. 

The kalam argument originated within Islamic natural theology. Al-Ghazali (1056-1111) was it’s most prominent Medieval proponent, although the argument has its roots in Christian philosopher John Philoponus’ (490-570) critiques of the metaphysics of Aristotle and Proclus – specifically their contention that ‘the world’, i.e., material reality, is eternal. The argument was, much later, defended by another Christian philosopher, Bonaventure (1221-1274).

William Lane Craig, the foremost defender of the kalam argument today, summarises the argument in this way:

1. Whatever beings to exist, has a cause.
2. The universe began to exist.
3. Therefore, the universe has a cause.

In this argument, ‘the universe’ is understood to be identical to ‘material reality’, so that the conclusion excludes the possibility of dodging the issue by suggesting that another part of material reality caused this universe to exist. What follows is that, if the second premise is correct, then the cause of the universe cannot be material. So, to the above premises, one might add:

4. Nothing can be the cause of its own existence.
5. Therefore, the universe has a cause of its existence that is not part of the universe (i.e., it is immaterial).

Can you see how Dawkins’ criticisms of the cosmological argument, quoted above, fail to address the real kalam argument, as well? Dawkins’ appeal to a ‘big bang singularity’ or ‘some other physical concept’, fails to address the fact that the kalam argument was specifically devised to refute the claim that material reality is eternal. So, provided the arguments for premise 2 are valid, the cause of the universe cannot be something physical. (For a defence of premise 2, see here, here, here and here.) You cannot postulate a physical cause of physical reality, without presupposing the existence of physical reality! Similarly, as with Aquinas’ arguments, one can deduce certain characteristics of this First Cause, including: (1) eternal existence, (2) immateriality, (3) intelligence (specifically, volition), (4) immense power, (5) self-existence, etc. Finally, the appeal to a First Cause is not arbitrary, but follows necessarily from the argument, just as it is with Aquinas’ arguments.

If the reader will permit it (and, let’s face it, you don’t have a choice, do you?), I’ll skip over the Fourth Way, which is the most obscure of the Five Ways, and move onto the Fifth Way. I will say this, though: Dawkins' crack about a ‘pre-eminently peerless stinker’ (p. 79) completely misses the point. As a reductio ad absurdum it fails, because Dawkins doesn’t understand the logic behind the argument. A reductio only works if you use the logic of an argument against itself. If you misunderstand the logic of the argument, then your reductio only makes you look absurd. You might want to do some research yourself, to see exactly how Dawkins misunderstand the argument. If you can get a hold of them, take a look at the resources listed at the end of this post. I particularly recommend Edward Feser's Aquinas: A Beginner's Guide, but don't try to go straight to Chapter 3, the one on Aquinas' natural theology, spend some time going through Chapter 2 first.

It is regarding the Fifth Way that Dawkins makes some of his most egregious errors – at least, from the perspective of the Thomistic scholar. To suggest that Aquinas’ Fifth way is essentially the same argument as William Paley’s Design Argument will immediately provoke an indignant response. And quite right, too! The two arguments could hardly be more different either in style or in substance. Paley’s argument focuses of the issue of biological complexity, and not just complexity but, as Dawkins correctly notes, organised complexity. It is the conjunction of complexity with a pattern of organisation that provokes the inference to design in Paley’s mind – and in the minds of all those who have followed in Paley’s footsteps. However, the topic of biological complexity and organisation have no place in Aquinas’ argument. Here it is:

The fifth way is taken from the governance of the world. We see that things which lack intelligence, such as natural bodies, act for an end, and this is evident from their acting always, or nearly always, in the same way, so as to obtain the best result. Hence it is plain that not fortuitously, but designedly, do they achieve their end. Now whatever lacks intelligence cannot move towards an end, unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence; as the arrow is shot to its mark by the archer. Therefore some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end; and this being we call God (Summa Theologiae I.2.3).

If you are not obsessed with Darwin’s supposed refutation of the teleological argument, you can see clearly that this argument has nothing to do with biological complexity. Instead, the argument is from the ‘governance’ or orderliness of the world, i.e., what we today would call the ‘laws of nature’. Aquinas does not use this term, because the phrase ‘laws of nature’ was devised in the early-modern period. Unfortunately, the fact that scientists often appeal to ‘laws of nature’ the explain why things happen in an orderly way “acting always, or nearly always, in the same way”, means that many people take the orderliness of the cosmos for granted. They assume that ‘that’s just the way it is’. They fail to ask why it is that way.

Edward Feser notes, in his Scholastic Metaphysics: A Contemporary Introduction that there are, broadly, four ways that you might interpret the idea of 'laws' in nature:

We might hold, for example, that to speak of the “laws of nature” that govern some material thing or system is simply a shorthand way of describing the manner in which that thing or system will operate given its nature or essence. This…is the Scholastic approach to understanding physical laws. But on this view the “laws of nature” presuppose the existence and operations of the physical things that follow the laws. And in that case the laws cannot possibly explain the existence or operations of the material things themselves…

A second view of what “laws of nature” are and how they operate is the one endorsed by early modern thinkers like Descartes and Newton, who sought to overthrow the Aristotelian-Scholastic philosophy that dominated the Middle Ages. On their view, the notion of a “law of nature” is irreducibly theological, a shorthand for the idea that God has set the world up so as to behave in the regular way described by the laws. On this view it is really God’s action that strictly does the explaining and neither material things nor the laws they follow really explain anything. But for obvious reasons, this too is not a view that gives any help to scientism [or naturalism], which is as hostile to theological explanations as it is to traditional metaphysics in general.

A third possibility is to hold that “laws of nature” are really nothing more than a description or summary of the regular patterns we happen to find in the natural world. They don’t tell us anything about the natures of material things, and they don’t reflect the will of God. To say that it is a law of nature that A is followed by B is on this view simply to say that A’s tend to be followed by B’s in a regular way, and that’s that. But on this view, laws tell us only that such-and-such a regularity exists, and not why it exists. That is to say, on this view a law of nature (or at least the ultimate laws of nature) don’t explain a regularity, but merely re-describe it in a different jargon. Needless to say, then, this sort of view hardly supports the claim that science can provide an ultimate explanation of the world [or of it's orderliness].

A further possibility would be to interpret “laws of nature” as abstract objects, something comparable to Plato’s Forms, existing in a realm beyond the material world, and where physical things some­how “participate in” the laws in something like the way Plato thought that every tree participates in the Form of Tree or every triangle participates in the Form of Triangle. Here too an appeal to laws of nature doesn’t really provide an ultimate explanation of anything. For given this view we would still need to know how it comes to be that there is a physical world that “participates in” the laws in the first place, why it participates in these laws rather than others, and so on. And that requires an appeal to something other than the laws (pp. 21-2).

The third option here would be the one that Dawkins and other atheists would have to accept, for the other options are strongly anti-naturalism.  However, of the four options the third option is the only one that fails to explain why there is order, or ‘laws of nature’. At best, the third option assumes ‘laws of nature’ as a ‘brute fact’ that cannot be further explained. That is to say, it assumes that the laws of nature have no possible explanation. However, the fact that there are three other possible ways of interpreting the laws of nature, all of which do provide some explanation of the laws of nature, shows that it is possible to explain the existence of laws in nature. So the advocate of the third option must show that all the other three options are false. He/she cannot simply assert that the laws of nature have no explanation, because these other interpretations show that they do potentially have such an explanation, after all.

Aquinas accepted the first option listed above. The Aristotelian-Scholastic interpretation of the laws of nature, as “simply a shorthand way of describing the manner in which that thing or system will operate given its nature or essence”. This interpretation held that teleology – that is end-directedness – is intrinsic within nature at its most fundamental level – the level of cause and effect. The second interpretation denied such intrinsic teleology and, instead, interpreted laws of nature as order imposed on nature from outside by God – extrinsic teleology. Of course, as the Fifth Way shows, Aquinas would have agreed that the order in nature ultimately comes from God. However, he would have said that laws of nature are a product of things operating according to their natures, and it is their natures that are created by God.

So, Aquinas argues that there is only one solution to the question of why there is order in the universe: “some intelligent being exists by whom all natural things are directed to their end”. Why? Because “whatever lacks intelligence cannot move towards an end, unless it be directed by some being endowed with knowledge and intelligence”. This inference makes a great deal of sense. Atheists frequently talk about how the universe is ‘purposeless’, ‘random’ or ‘undirected’. They understand that this is necessary in a reality without God. But, at the most basic level of material reality, there exists an order that cannot be explained by an appeal to ‘quantum events’ or ‘the jostling of atoms’, for these events presuppose some more basic order. Order and directedness cannot come from chaos, not without some pre-existing order that imposes order on the chaos. Instead, in our experience, Aquinas notes, order and directedness come from intelligence. Therefore, fundamental order must come from an even more fundamental Intelligence that cannot be part of material reality. As Dawkins is quick to inform us, on a naturalistic conception of reality “any creative intelligence…comes into existence only as the end product of an extended process of gradual evolution” (p. 31). But if intelligence is necessary at the most fundamental level of material reality – the ‘laws of nature’ – then naturalism must be false.

Albert Einstein held to a modernised version of this argument – one stripped of its Scholastic content:

Certain it is that a conviction, akin to religious feeling, of the rationality or intelligibility of the world lies behind all scientific work of a higher order…This firm belief, a belief bound up with deep feeling, in a superior mind that reveals itself in the world of experience, represents my conception of God (cited in There is a God, p. 102).

Although rudimentary, it is easy to see in this quote, that he believed in God based primarily on something like the ‘argument from order’. Compare the above quote to another of Einstein’s statements:

We are in the position of a little child entering a huge library filled with books in many languages. The child knows someone must have written those books. It does not know how. It does not understand the languages in which they are written. The child dimly suspects a mysterious order in the arrangement of the books but doesn’t know what it is. That, it seems to me, is the attitude of even the most intelligent human being toward God. We see the universe marvelously arranged and obeying certain laws but only dimly understand these laws. Our limited minds grasp the mysterious force that moves the constellations (cited in Max Jammer, Einstein and Religion, p. 48).

Were Aquinas alive today, I think he’d give an enthusiastic nod of approval for Einstein’s comments. Then he’d remind us all to be more humble, in light of this tremendous conclusion.

Where did Dawkins go wrong in his discussion of Aquinas? It was right at the very beginning. Actually, it was before the beginning. He failed to do the research necessary to be able to properly distinguish between Aquinas’ Five Ways and more contemporary arguments. What books could Dawkins have read to remedy his ignorance? There were, actually, some excellent books in print at the time that Dawkins was writing The God Delusion. Three of them have already been mentioned in this series of posts: Reginald Garrrigou-Lagrange’s God: His Existence and His Nature and Aquinas’ own major works the Summa Theologiae I.2-11 and Summa Contra Gentiles I.13-44. Had Dawkins read more than a few excerpts from Aquinas’ works, he would not have accused Aquinas of failing to show why a First Cause of the universe must have many of the attributes of God. Had he read the first book of the Summa Contra Gentiles, he would have encountered a much fuller discussion of Aquinas' First Way.

Other, more contemporary, works would have explained Aquinas’ arguments more carefully to the modern reader. Dennis Bonnette’s Aquinas’ Proofs for the Existence of God: St. Thomas Aquinas on: “The Per Accidens Necessarily Implies the Per Se” (Martinus Nijhoff, 1972) is one of the most in-depth discussions of Aquinas’s case for God. However, the best work in English is John F. Wippel’s The Metaphysical Thought of Thomas Aquinas: From Finite Being to Uncreated Being (Catholic University of America Press, 2000), which explains the metaphysical ideas that were the basis for Aquinas’ arguments, before discussing the arguments themselves in some depth. Also, for a good discussion of the kalam argument, Dawkins should have picked up Craig’s Reasonable Faith or read some of Craig's many articles on the topic (links listed above).

Since the publication of The God Delusion, another modern student of Aquinas has written some excellent works. Edward Feser has authored four books that would be of great interest to the reader seeking to further understand Aquinas’ natural theology. The first was The Last Superstition: A Refutation of the New Atheism (St. Augustine’s Press, 2008), an excellent response to the new atheism and explanation of how Aquinas might have refuted them, were he alive today. The second was Aquinas: A Beginner’s Guide (OneWorld, 2009), a very readable introduction to Aquinas’ thought, including his Five Ways and the metaphysical ideas that underpin them. The third was the book quoted above, Scholastic Metaphysics, an in-depth discussion and contemporary defence of the main themes within Scholastic thought. Finally, the fourth was a collection of essays on contemporary themes in Scholastic thought, entitled Neo-Scholastic Essays (St. Augustine’s Press, 2015). This last volume contains an excellent essay on the cosmological argument, how to distinguish between the various forms of the argument, and what are the most common atheist misrepresentations of the argument.