Good ‘n’ Senseless Without God:

A Critical Review of Richard Carrier’s
Sense and Goodness Without God 

By David Wood

This book is only for sane, reasonable people.[i]
~Richard Carrier

[D]on’t believe everything you read.[ii]
~Richard Carrier

In his latest defense of atheism, Richard Carrier says that there “is a little known secret of thinking like a genius: it doesn’t matter where your ideas come from, or how many turn out to be harebrained, so long as you only trust the ones that are soundly proved.”[iii]  I’m not sure what this secret has to do with Richard’s book, nor am I convinced that it really is a characteristic of thinking like a genius. However, after reading his defense, I’m certain of one thing:  There is a little known secret of thinking like an atheist: it doesn’t matter where you get your ideas, or how harebrained they are, as long as you’ve convinced yourself, in spite of the evidence, that your position is true. 

Sense and Goodness Without God is Richard’s most ambitious attempt at philosophy. It is well written, meticulously organized, and broad in scope. It is also thoroughly inconsistent, one-sided throughout, and full of false claims and outdated arguments. Richard’s chapter on “The Secular Humanist’s Heaven” (in which he declares his hope that humans will spend eternity inside computer programs) would be comical, even to secular humanists, if it weren’t obviously meant to be taken seriously.  

While the book purports to be a “Defense of Metaphysical Naturalism[iv],” this claim is somewhat misleading. Richard frequently digresses, and the book is heavily peppered with speculations that have little to do with defending a worldview. For instance, consider Richard’s argument for the superiority of realist art: 

I confess I find little beauty in abstract art—or at best a trivial beauty, which might amuse but will hardly impress. Consider the onerous and exacting skill, the tireless accumulation of ability through trial and error over years of practice and dedication, that a painter exhibits when he creates a scene full of vibrant realism—as in the awe-inspiring glories of Classical or Renaissance art. Compared to them, the works of an abstractionist are an embarrassment. The one paid profound attention to the natural world . . . The other did little more than interior design on a canvass.[v] 

A little later, Richard argues that legislators should be chosen by lottery, but that the President “should be nothing more than an employee hired or fired at will” by this group.[vi] He even proposes a new government bureau—the “bureau of reinvention.”[vii] Whether Richard’s judgment in these areas is correct or not is beside the point. A treatise on the proper methods of choosing government officials has nothing to do with defending Metaphysical Naturalism. Because of this, the book seems less like an atheist apologetic and more like a venue for Richard to state his opinions about nearly everything. 

Richard’s digressions become most unbearable when he clearly has no idea what he’s talking about. For instance, he maintains that the government should abolish income tax, for it is “a major public evil.”[viii] The amazing thing is that he goes on to propose all sorts of acts and reforms that would be impossible to pay for even now, let alone after we have abolished an enormous source of revenue. In addition to spending increases in numerous areas, Richard argues (perhaps a little flippantly) that the government should pay off the national debt, for “the simple act of paying off massive public debt is undeniably useful.”[ix] While no one would deny that paying off debt is useful, many would object to calling it a “simple act,” especially when Richard calls for increased spending on education, defense, and his fanciful space adventures (in his conclusion, he says that society should be dedicated to “colonizing the universe”[x]).  

If you’re wondering how Richard intends to pay for all of this, his plan is simple: “Rather than charge taxes, the government could simply generate revenue directly—by selling stuff.” He identifies this “stuff” as trees and other natural resources, and he suggests that the government should purchase the rights to these resources (which would cost even more money):  

If the government bought up and then managed all the commercial forests, for instance, and rented this land out to lumber companies with an eye to maximizing public revenue, not only would we get a huge windfall of cash without violating anyone, but the forests could be managed more ecologically.[xi] 

The Carrier Fiscal Plan, then, may be outlined as follows: 

1. Eliminate income tax.

2. Spend nearly $8,000,000,000,000 to pay off the national debt (roughly $25,000 for every man, woman, and child living in the U.S.).

3. Spend lots of money buying up all the rights to America’s commercial forests and coal mines.

4. Spend tons of money improving the education system.

5. Spend even more money improving defense.

6. Spend an unimaginably large amount of money colonizing the universe.

7. Pay for everything with what amounts to a giant government yard sale. 

Richard’s economic theory is only missing one thing. I suggest that the government should give a billion dollars to each and every person on the planet. That way everyone would be rich. It would be simple really, since the government can print as much money as it likes. All it needs is paper, and it can make plenty of paper with all its trees, since it will own all the forests. Without poor people, the world will be a much better place. Therefore, the government should adopt the Carrier-Wood Plan. (Now you see why Congress doesn’t contact Carrier/Wood for budget advice; we obviously don’t know what we’re talking about. Until we do, we probably shouldn’t be demanding eccentric policy changes.) 

This illustrates one of the book’s many drawbacks. Throughout the book, Richard tries to give the impression that he is an expert on everything, from science to linguistics, from history to politics—a polymath of the highest caliber.[xii] Yet the suggestions he makes reveal that he is an expert in very little. Richard isn’t a polymath; he’s a dilettante. While it is admirable for a man to learn a little of everything, dabblers should acknowledge their lack of expertise and tip their hats to the truly proficient. Richard instead shakes his fist at everyone, demanding that the political theorists and philosophers of the world gather round and heed the words of a graduate student in history.  

Thus, much of Richard’s book should be taken with a grain of salt. There are, however, portions that should be taken more seriously, namely, those parts of the book that actually relate to his stated purpose. While we must keep in mind even here that his arguments are often based on a superficial familiarity with his subject matter, Richard is one of the world’s fastest up-and-coming defenders of atheism. Christians may therefore approach his work expecting to read one of the most thorough and up-to-date defenses of Metaphysical Naturalism available. 

Go to Chapter Two: "The Unskeptical Skeptic"