ChatGPT says that: to “believe something” means to consider it to be true or to have confidence in its truth, even if there isn’t conclusive proof. It’s a subjective attitude or stance on something, indicating you accept it as real, correct, or factual
This is a circular definition, at least, as far as all linguistic definitions are circular. Every word has to be defined in terms of other words in the dictionary, and to that extent, all definitions substitute one word or phrase for another word or phrase, and you might consider that circular.
The pressing question is whether ‘consider it to be true’ sufficiently explains what we mean when we say that we believe something. And I don’t think it does.
Jordan Peterson did a 20 vs 1 recently, in which he (as the Christian) took on 20 atheists. One of the topics they discussed was ‘morality and purpose cannot be found within science’, and within this sub-debate, Peterson was asked if he believes in the typical Christian omni-God, with its limitless characteristics. In typical fashion, Peterson’s response was:
Well, what do you mean by believe?
His opponent’s answer was not dissimilar from ChatGPT’s: to think it to be true. Peterson ferociously disagreed: to believe something, he says, is to stake your life on it. And by that melodramatic phrase, he means ‘to be willing to live for it and die for it’.
There’s a more amiable halfway ground between Peterson and ChatGPT’s definition, in which I think lies the heart of belief. To believe something has to mean more than just to consider the reported statement to be true; if I told you that I believed it wasn’t going to rain, and then took an umbrella with me outside, you’d be pretty confused. It seems clear to me that belief requires us to presuppose that we will act in a certain way, if that belief were called into question.
Crucially, this doesn’t mean that we will act in a certain way upon confirming that belief. I can believe that it’s going to rain, but that doesn’t require me to pick up an umbrella or waterproof myself; only if I intend on going outside. We can hold beliefs and not act in any particular manner, but the point is that when we’re forced to confront those beliefs – when we go outside – we act in accordance with our stated beliefs.
So, while you might not be willing to die for the belief that it’s going to rain, it’s not just a flimsy statement either; it’s a presupposition to action; a pledge of some kind that you’ll do something differently because of your belief.
However, some philosophers disagree that belief engenders action of some kind, even arguing that we might act in ways directly contradictory to our stated or held beliefs. Tamar Gendler proposes the idea of aliefs, an automatic or habitual belief-like attitude, particularly one that is in tension with a person’s explicit beliefs. For example, you might hold the belief that the characters of a sad film are fictional, and therefore not experiencing any real suffering, and your aliefs might cause you to cry nonetheless.
Importantly, Gendler isn’t arguing that these aliefs are another kind of belief, and so they don’t particularly contest with beliefs, but they are expressive attitudes that demonstrate the link between belief and action isn’t quite as strongly tethered as we might think.
Is there a case for Peterson’s extremism? Can we really defend the notion that we are always, unquestionably willing to die for what we believe? A favourable reading: perhaps Peterson doesn’t mean willing to die for in the sense of martyrdom, but in a more literal, rational sense.
I believe that the car ahead of me on the motorway exists. Would I be willing to die for that belief, if a terrorist of some kind asked me to renounce the belief that the car in front of me exists, to guarantee the safety of my family?
Two problems here: firstly, of course I would be willing to lie, and renounce my belief that the car exists. But I would be lying, and to lie about something again presupposes that I believe it. I cannot lie about something I do not think to be true or it would not be lying, because I would not be making up falsehoods about a truth. I’m honestly unsure if I think that making up distinct falsehoods from another falsehood is also lying, or just substitution of some kind, but that’s broadly irrelevant anyway.
The point is, I could lie about renouncing my belief in the car, but that isn’t the same as actually not believing that there’s a car there. I don’t know if it’s possible to actually stop believing that the car exists on command, and so if that were really the terrorists’ demand, to what extent am I (perhaps unwillingly) committed to dying for that belief? I guess it’s the willing part that Peterson mentioned anyway, so perhaps that doesn’t count.
Secondly, I don’t think this is the kind of willingness to die that Peterson means in his definition. I think it goes something more like this:
If I cease to believe that the car in front of me exists, then I might speed up into the empty gap and rear-end it. If I cease to believe that the car behind me exists, I might slow down, and there go my children in the back seat. In this
sense, my continued existence depends on my beliefs about these mundane objects: I’m not doing anything extraordinary because of my beliefs, but they keep me alive. Remember, Peterson said not just that we’re willing to die for our beliefs, but that we stake our lives on them. You could read the above example as staking my life on the belief in these cars; in a very unexciting, non-sacrificial way, they do keep me alive. Perhaps I am staking my life on the belief in those cars.
I don’t know if this extends to beliefs about non-physical ideas and harmless notions, which couldn’t bring about one’s death even if denied. I don’t know if I fully agree with Peterson’s expanded definition or his broader point about morality being denatured by science. I do believe that I’m not willing to die for either.
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