How to Talk to Your Dog About Philosophy
I did and I learned something surprising
If you haven’t taken the time to talk with your pets about the deep mysteries of the universe then you are missing out big time. Frankly, I’m suspicious that you are not a responsible pet owner. And no, I don’t do drugs. I’m just unconventional. I like to ask my golden retriever Sammy if he thinks there is anything in existence other than the physical reality that he encounters every day. I tell him to shake if he believes there is and to look at me with a blank puppy stare if his answer is “no.”
So you might see why I insist on talking with him about these issues; because I’ve gotten the distinct impression that Sammy is a naturalist! He won’t even entertain the possibility that there’s more to the universe than his leash, the park, his food bowl, and the mailman with his tempting, voluptuous left leg. I guess you could say he holds to his worldview in a rather dog-matic fashion…
I’m trying to cure him of his inability to see the world as I do but I’m making slow progress at best. The other day we got into a discussion on the Kalam Cosmological Argument which ended with me shaking him and saying, “don’t you see Sammy?! Everything that begins to exist must have a cause and the universe clearly began to exist otherwise we would have an actually infinite series of past events, or the coming into being of the universe from nothing, both of which are metaphysical absurdities!!”
He laid down and put his head on the carpet. I think it’s fair to say I won that debate, not that I’m bragging.
I’m suspicious that all animals with a lower form of consciousness are also naturalists like Sammy. I suppose I can’t blame them. The physical world is all they know. It’s all that they can conceive of. And of course, it’s entirely possible that they’re right. Maybe with my comparatively advanced cognitive faculties, I’m simply overthinking the whole thing.
But that led me to an interesting thought. It’s often assumed, at least in elite intellectual circles, that naturalism is the default rationalist point of view. To believe in the probability of there being something other and greater than the physical world is dismissed as simplistic — a compromise of human intellect in favor of something more emotionally appealing.
That is an ironic point of view when I think about it. Naturalism is the default viewpoint of lower lifeforms because they lack the ability to conceptualize anything else. By contrast, humans have always postulated a supernatural realm precisely because our cognitive faculties enable us to do so. It is also not obvious that we conceptualize this realm just because we like the idea. It tends to be the result of asking metaphysical questions such as “why is there something rather than nothing?” Or “why do I have a deep thirst for meaning and such a deep visceral sense that actions I take may be objectively good or evil?”
I’ve thought of maybe not asking those questions. Maybe they’re just unanswerable or the result of my hyper-sensitive agency detector programmed into me by the evolutionary process. But then to dismiss my own belief on the basis of my belief’s presumed source would be to commit the genetic fallacy. A belief must stand on its own merits, regardless of its source. If it had so happened that Adolf Hitler was the first to discover the law of gravity, things would still fall when you dropped them.
I haven’t decided yet if naturalism is the way to go or if I should keep probing deeper with my theistic intuitions.
I guess if God exists, then the universe might make a bit more sense to my ever-questioning brain. But if he doesn’t, and that leads me to naturalism, I’ll at least be able to have much easier conversations with my golden retriever.
Full disclosure: although I have had golden retriever pets throughout my life and I love them I don’t currently have one named Sammy. The story is fictional and for illustrative purposes. Also no dogs were harmed in the writing of this post or in the pondering of life’s deep questions.
