Pandeism and Pangaea

Early in 2016, an interesting confluence occurred. As I was kicking around Kickstarter, I happened wholly by chance to come across a newly initiated effort for a collection of fictional pieces: Pangaea II. The "II" signifies the status of being a sequel to a previous similarly themed collection. And "Pangaea" because it is set in a fictional alternate reality -- one with a fascinating premise wherein Earth's landmasses are not dispersed, but where instead all human history occurs on a continuing single supercontinent. But the thing which to me was mindblowing about this is that this Pangaea Anthology was coincidentally proceeding on Kickstarter at precisely the same time as the (ultimately equally successful) Kickstarter was plugging away for Pandeism: An Anthology.

The conceptual connection between Pandeism and Pangaea goes beyond this moment of coincidence, and beyond the fact that their names raise similar visions -- "Pan" in both meaning all; "Deism" and "Gaia" both channeling religion-laden words from ancient languages. When mankind first discovered the contours of the multiple continents, the assumption instantly arose that these were indelible features, markers of the state of the Earth from the time of its creation onward. Mountains were fixed and unchangeable. Seas might ebb and flow, but only within unchanging boundaries with reliable shorelines. But then, as the work of geologists uncovered scientific proof that the continents had drifted from different positions over millions of years, had stretched and bent and changed in shape, have been governed by tectonic features and eons of weathering, the first instinct of the religionists was to reject this geomorphic evolution. It was inconceivable to them that these land masses could possibly have come from a single great landmass with an holistic shape different from any of the modern ones, but encompassing all of them. This was Pangaea.

In much the same way, the concept of Pandeism challenges previous orthodoxies by presenting as a possibility a single underlying theological ideation whose ancient contours are not immediately apparent to those who examine the theological map of the world through the lens of later social conditioning. But, like the geomorphic principles hinting at different earthly constructions, these may be found by rational examination to be fully explanatory as to how the later, more familiar peaks and valleys of theistic doctrine arose. Both are relatively recent discoveries, in the scheme of there fields -- after thousands of years of theology and geology, Pandeism was named in 1787, and Pangaea in 1920. One might quibble that the theories of the ancients about the nature of the grand features of the physical world wasn't really 'geology' -- but then, might one not suppose the same thing about ancient theology? The going belief a thousand or twelve hundred years ago was that the Earth had edges off which one might fall. Might one fall off the edges of equally old theological models?

And might one, in discovering the spherical nature of the Earth and the mobility of its once-joined continents, envision a notion of the divine of mathematical elegance equal to a sphere, and historical power equal to continents gliding over the face of the world?

The problem of the least deserving person in Hell and the least deserving person in Heaven

Theists have a wide array of topics on which to disagree. Which god to worship, how to worship it, or -- even within a specific sect of a specific religion -- which acts are "sin" and what steps need to be taken to avoid a bad afterlife outcome. Ah, but that is one broadly shared idea -- that there is indeed such a thing as a "bad afterlife" outcome and a "good afterlife" outcome, a strict dichotomy with a dividing line (somewhere) between those who arrive here and those who arrive there.

The bad afterlife.

As with all other things, the details of this are murky and disputed. Some believe that there is an eternal Heaven or other such situation to which the good folks go, and an eternal Hell or other punishing thing for the rest. Some believe that those who go to Heaven will be literally given better versions of their physical bodies from life on Earth, and will live in a physical Earth-like city with houses and roads (paved in the proverbial gold), and perhaps some other kinds of buildings and amenities, holy tennis courts and sacred golf courses. And it will be an existence of eternal contentment, with no experience of fear or adversity or challenge of any kind (so in those eternal tennis matches, every player wins the match).

And some believe that Hell is equally a place where souls are given physical bodies, only these are for the purpose of receiving endless physical pain inflicted on them, burning fire constantly scorching skin and melting flesh, sharp rocks leaving no spot to lay one's body down, barbed whips wielded by rapacious demonic beings, and other torments imagined by figures ranging from Dante Alighieri to heavy metal music videographers. This condemnation to torture is depicted as endless in time, with punishment continuing long after any wrongdoing on Earth has been equaled.

Others cast Hell as a bodiless place, more a state of being, really, of eternal separation from the god of their religion; and still others contend that there's a Heaven but not actually a Hell, but that bad souls are simply obliterated for all time (immediately, or after some period of punishment), all the information in them lost forever. A few theologies dare to imagine a Purgatory, an in-between place where some souls suffer while awaiting admission to that eternal Heaven, or perhaps while awaiting a determination of where they'll forever go.

The inevitable cutting-off point.

But whatever the design imagined for the afterlife, there is one necessary constant in dichotomous (or even trichotomous) scenarios. Of the billions of people who have lived and died in all of existence, there must be one pair who represent the cutting-off point. There is one person who "gets in" to Heaven despite being the least deserving person of all who do so -- that is, despite being the least deserving person relative to all other people who get into Heaven. And likewise, there must be one person who is condemned to Hell -- whether this means eternal torment, separateness, obliteration, or something yet unimagined -- who is, of all the people slated for that fate the least deserving of it. The person whom, if just one single additional person of all the billions who've ever lived were to be admitted to Heaven, why, he would be the one.

And, given the continuum of behaviours and lives and lifestyles across the estimated 101 billion humans to have been born at some point in recorded history, the last person to "get in" to the good afterlife will be barely, perhaps imperceptibly distinguishable in the balance of good and bad deeds (or thoughts) from the last person locked out of it. Imagining a slightly more (or less) merciful god doesn't do away with this problem. If the next one or ten or thousand people are allowed in, that simply shifts the point of dichotomy down to a different pair of virtually indistinguishable people.

Where this cutting-off point lies is another a mystery. The faithful certainly can't agree on it. Some will assert that all who believe (and only those who believe) in the right faith, and perhaps even in the right sect within the faith, get the good ending -- and that even those who were simply unknowing as to this faith because they were too young or too remote ever to have learned of it, are deprived of the positive afterlife. For these believers, the destiny of the unevangelized, and the incompetently evangelized looms large, because those people are doomed no matter what they did in life. Other believers will insist that faith alone will not suffice, but that even the most faithful must carry out good deeds and avoid bad behavior to qualify. Contrapositively to the first proposition, some even believe that only those who are good people will receive the reward, even if they are of the "wrong" faith. Some sects, like the Jehovah's Witnesses, believe in an absolute numerical cutoff, with only 144,000 getting into Heaven (interestingly, a number representing only a fraction of the number of members of that group now living, meaning even the vast majority of believers will get edged out based on population limits.

Alternatives -- absolute outcomes or infinite options....

There are a few ideas which avoid the jarring absolute of a cutoff point. There are, for example, absolute ideas. Some believe that the good afterlife is a reward which literally nobody merits, making it plausible that literally everybody gets whatever the bad afterlife is. Conversely, some claim that their god's limitless mercy assures that "Hell is empty," and so literally everybody gets the good outcome. Some theologians have even concluded that the only people who actually exist are those who get the good outcome, and all the rest are simply illusions of people.

A number of theological models posit reincarnation, which would allow individuals to simply live life over and over again, until they merit the good afterlife (which is itself an escape from the cycle of reincarnation). At least one commentator has theorized that there is only one soul being reincarnated and we are all incarnations of it, so that we will each of us experience every life which has ever been lived until we ultimately lead the last life leading into the eternal reward. And, naturally, there are other propositions presented in Pantheism and Pandeism, wherein everything was part of our Creator all along anyway, and simply goes back to it (possibly to experience the consequences of their own Earthly actions through the memories of those who experienced those consequences).

And, naturally, whether one sees the dichotomous nature of typical afterlife beliefs as problematic may itself be a matter of perspective. There is a certain amount of black-and-white thinking which permits for a stark split, with trust that the god in question knows just where to make the cutoff, and all above are in fact worthy of eternal Heaven (even if some are just barely worthy) while all below are deserving of whatever Hell befalls them. But, though most every religious person believes that both they and those they care for will end up all together in an eternal Heaven, there must be some doleful tossing and turning in the dark of the night over where, exactly, the cutoff lies, and whether it is imaginable that they'll fall below it -- since perhaps even less than firmly belonging in Hell, nobody wants to be amongst those very last people who failed to make the cut.

The infinite problem of infinite afterlives

The single most damning indictment against a deity establishing or allowing a strict dichotomy of eternal reward or eternal punishment is the inability of such deity to ameliorate such condition once it has been imposed. But some theistic accounts propose just such a dichotomy, specifically outlining categories of finite conduct which lead to infinite punishment -- even for those who would not naturally be aware that such conduct is condemnable.

Theists typically seek to sidestep the issue by proposing that human beings, having free will, are given the ability to choose to be so evil that forgiveness is not deserved. But once the punishment exceeds the wrong, unforgivingness itself becomes purely vile evil. At that point the finite wrong has already been punished, and the once-wrongdoer is being punished for nothing. A being would therefore itself need to be an infinitely evil scourge on the face of existence to permit an infinite punishment for a finite wrong. Naturally, it is a compoundedly greater error to make a binary inquiry of this, addressing only the punishment of the most evil humans. In fact, some faiths suggest a deity so basely evil that it would impose an eternal punishment on somebody who simply never came to believe in the existence of the deity in question despite living an otherwise good, even flawless life (and, perhaps, even if this disbelief is a logical response to incompetent evangelism).

Islam (so far as I am given to understand) avoids this fatal error by providing that the 'sinner' retains the ability to repent and obtain forgiveness even after death, i.e. even while in Islamic hell. Which is a more sensible thing, after all, since the infinite impossibility of such a thing would require a most sadistic elimination of free will. Simply put, if our minds continue to exist after death at all then we retain the capability to change our minds. If we can not change our minds, if we can not repent our wrongs, then the minds being punished are not truly our minds; they are no more than constructs of a static version of our minds, created for the sole purpose of having torment imposed upon them (if we ever actually existed in the first place). Conversely, if our minds (and their defining free will) are able to continue, then we are able to change our minds, and all must be able to go from a hell to a heaven or from a heaven to a hell based upon their change of mind. In other words, it can not be the case that the consequence is both infinite, and unfixable for the duration of that infinite period, for that would eliminate the free will from which the situation is claimed to arise in the first place, eliminating any justification for punishment.

Ultimately, the simple mathematical impossibility of a finite mind being fully aware of an infinite consequence is what makes infinite consequences inherently evil as applied to finite actors. The human inability to truly understand infinites is exemplified by the fact that we are only able to discuss the infinite through the use of finite symbols and representations. But of the entire set of "condemned" souls, there must be one which is, of that set, the least deserving of condemnation -- so the question remains, why does the least deserving condemned person remain condemned? And why would this condemnation persist even when the condemned person least deserving of condemnation had been fully punished or had fully repented after, say, one hundred billion years of torment? Why not, when the least deserving saved person is saved for all time, even if they become no more worthy of it after salvation, or are even able to slip into thoughts meriting condemnation?

A Pandeist responds to John Oakes' "response to Pandeism"

From time to time, people do come along and write things like this "response to Pandeism" put forth by noted Christian apologist John Oakes. And, well, such things as these, I must answer.

Defining the Problem:

Oakes begins his "response" complimentarily, at least, offering that "Pandeism is an interesting philosophy," and observing that "it is not a religion, but a philosophical/worldview perspective." Additionally he qualifies at several points that he is "far from an expert on this philosophy" and has done "little research" on it. As to his critique proper, Oakes actually begins by launching a volley against Pantheism, describing its premise that "God fills up the universe and the universe is, essentially God", but noting as well that "if God is, essentially, the universe, then the universe cannot have been created." But, Oakes continues:

This is a big problem for pantheism, because science tells us that the universe is not eternal, neither can it be eternal. The universe was created about 13.5 billion years ago out of nothing. It is not an oscillating universe. The second Law of thermodynamics tells us that the universe cannot be eternal. Where does this leave the thinking pantheist? Classical pantheism cannot be supported in view of clear cosmological evidence. Pandeism comes to the rescue.

Now, this is an interesting critique coming from a Christian apologist, in that it inherently throws out the timeframe of the Creation story of the Judeochristian Scripture (a sore point for fundamentalists, who require the story of the Garden of Eden and Adam and Eve with the apple to set up the notion of original sin). In so doing Oakes at least hypothetically ought to be allowing for a Creator who has set forth a wholly evolutionary Universe (verily, as Pandeism does). But Oakes eschews this logical step; instead he retreats to his premises and simply describes Pandeism as an "ad hoc and a weak marriage" of deism and pantheism:

The marriage seems to be, as it appears, at first glance, to be self-contradictory. The deist believes in a Creator who created the universe but who is not personally invested in the universe. This Creator does not intervene in the universe. The Creator is not personal but rather impersonal and, obviously, distant. An impersonal universe is certainly consistent with pantheism, but pantheism has an eternal, uncreated universe. The pandeist proposes that there was an impersonal Creator who, after the creation, allowed himself to be absorbed into the Universe. To the outsider, this seems like a patch-up to save pantheism in a world in which creation is clearly implied by the data. What is the nature of this Creator? How can the Creator become the creation? This is hard to explain.

Part of Oakes' problem may lie in his fundamental misstatement of what Pandeism is. For he is hardly the first to mistakenly claim that the pandeistic Creator "after the creation, allowed himself to be absorbed into the Universe" when in fact Pandeism makes no claim of absorption into an already-created Universe, but of the quite distinct act of Creation itself being the singular act of our Creator wholly becoming the Creation itself.

It worth asking, as well, if "creation is clearly implied by the data," ought we not to dispose of all belief systems which fail to follow what is implied by the data? Ought we not dismiss all faiths inconsistent with a Universe "created about 13.5 billion years ago"? And if we are to follow what is implied by the data, ought we not to build our theological model by first examining all available scientific date, and then extrapolating from that the set of logically consistent theological models?

As to Oakes' difficulty with the notion of a Creator able to become its Creation, perhaps this ought to be 'hard to explain' to an atheist, but one would think that a theist would readily acknowledge that their Creator had the power to do such a thing. Indeed, a Creator creating from its own substance, and not needing to exercise an additional power of ex nihilo Creation, is the simplest kind of Creation which can be. If it is indeed "hard to explain" such a thing, then it must be an especially weak and incapable Creator which Oakes would take in place of one which has the power to have set forth our Universe pandeistically.

Argumentum ad populum:

Oakes is additionally quick to raise an argumentum ad populum, contending that "this esoteric philosophy is not held to by any world religion," and to note his knowing of "no influential philosophers or teachers who have publicly called them selves pandeists." As to these propositions, I can only suggest that Oakes make a more searching reading of the Bhagavad Gita. Though Oakes seems content to pigeonhole Eastern faiths generally as pantheistic instead of pandeistic, it is immediately apparent in a full reading of that seminal work, and in others along its same lines, that many strains of Hinduism and other Eastern religious philosophies envision a Creator-deity who has in fact become our Universe, and revels in the sharing of the experiences of lives arising within it.

In fact, many faiths have scriptural passages which may be so interpreted. And, many have sects or scholars which have expressed such interpretations quite explicitly (though perhaps Oakes was looking for somebody to declare "I am a Pandeist," as though the name of the theory invoked some special significance). We need not stand on such ceremony in philosophy -- Benedict Spinoza is universally acknowledged as one of the originators of Pantheism, though he never uttered that word because it had not yet been coined when he set forth his ideas.

An Anthropic Critique:

Back to the critique, Oakes states that "this philosophy was created purely from human thinking in order to solve a perceived rational problem with both deism and pantheism." Yes, but so is all religion. So is theological thought generally. And indeed, so is Oakes' Christianity, and every other theism. But theistic faiths cannot fathom the human capacity for inventing religions except to have faith that their own is true and to propose as to all others that deity-made evil spirits have broken loose and run amuck amongst us dispensing theological falsehoods. And yet Pandeism fully accounts for theistic faiths without making any such contorted assumptions.

It is the honest forms of theology which admit that they are products of human reflection, that there is no reliable proof for a universally true revelation or scripture, and that what theological truth there is must be what can be gleaned and extrapolated from a logical, reasoned, scientific examination of our Universe itself. And Deism and Pandeism happen to accord with scientific knowledge without needing to mutilate facts to meet ancient accounts, nor to posit a deceiver deity who makes things appear other than as they are, or makes and sets upon us superpowered evil spirits capable of effecting this deception by proxy.

A Straw Man in the Mirror:

Oakes closes with the assessment that Pandeism is "self-contradictory," and "a patch-up, created to solve a logical problem, rather than based on any evidence for the truth of the philosophy." But, again, he has early on disclaimed actual knowledge of Pandeism, or study of it, and so apparently speaks in ignorance of what proof is claimed to support Pandeism, and indeed of what Pandeism actually is all about. At the least, he makes no effort to summarize this proof and address it with specificity.

And so, the contradiction that Oakes believes he finds in Pandeism is a straw man born from Oakes' own misunderstanding of what Pandeism actually contends. It is not the sort of contradiction embodied in the claim of an all-powerful, all-benevolent intervening deity who nonetheless watches placidly while children are tortured to death and wars are fought by competing claimants to its name, for Pandeism makes no such claims, and bears no such contradiction.

And, lastly, as to Pandeism being "a patch-up," such evaluation mischaracterizes a genuine reconciliation of coherently compatible elements of systems as to which each is partially explanatory. One might as well call any modern computer "a patch-up," because it combines various pieces of technology initially invented for different reasons into a whole more useful than any one of the things for which such technology was first developed. Perhaps a better example of a 'patch-up' would be a religion built on bits and pieces stolen from other, more ancient mythological traditions -- a flood myth here, a virgin birth there, any number of returns from death elsewhere.

A Closing Suggestion:

Oakes' conclusions need not be further addressed, because his premises are simply entirely wrong. His conclusions simply cannot be reached. I would only suggest to Oakes that, in the future, if he deigns to take on such a topic as Pandeism, he ought to actually study it enough to know what claims are made by it, and what the history of it is, before proposing reasons for which to dismiss it. And, naturally, he ought to take care that what criticisms he gives are not those which are more powerfully directed at the beliefs which he would uphold in the place of his target.

Pandeism and the consideration of animal life

Some Pandeists believe that there is an afterlife wherein all things return to oneness with our Creator, in which all of the thoughts and experiences of existence may be shared.* I was recently asked whether Pandeists believe that animals experience this proposed afterlife experience.

There does not seem to be a principled way to make a distinction. After all, man came from the animals-- at what point did 'ape' become 'man,' even? To a Universe-spanning deity, would there even be that much difference between ape and man? It would seem that every person, every animal, plant, even every stone and speck of dust, would be part of the sum total experience in the end. But most of those things, perhaps even most orders of animals, have no qualitative experience of existence at all. Neither do our own individual bodily cells or organs, even. Our brain cells, taken one or a few at a time, don't have cognizable thoughts or feelings.

It helps to remember why it would make sense for our minds to continue being sustained as independent entities within the mind of our Creator. Because such minds, in sharing the immeasurable aspects contained within the oneness of our Creator, could continue generating new contemplations and new experiences, essentially eternally. Might our Creator be interested in experiencing the contemplations of lower-order minds? To think what a cow thinks, or how a cow feels when it is butchered? Or a crocodile, when it feeds? Or what a cow thinks of experiencing existence as a crocodile? Well, possibly. Why not? But there must be a practical bottom, a level below which no fruitful and useful thought is generated.

Saint Augustine objected to pantheistic notions of our Creator being in all things on experiential grounds. If our Creator is in all things, he plead, then when a man beats a beast, our Creator must feel the blows. But in this more conventional notions of God-- is our Creator not aware of the experience of animal life? Does it not know, as well, their perceptions? Is that not simply a form of knowledge? Indeed, isn't the most profound form of knowledge that of experience? For this reason, Pandeism does speak, in a sense, to the treatment of animals. Would you butcher animals (or have them butchered, even distantly), if the price for it was that you would have to share in the experience of everything felt by every animal you've eaten? And, especially, to do so having the knowledge that, whatever suffering it may have endured and in which you would share, was on your account? (So what about plants?, you might ask. Well, having no nociceptive nervous structure (the kinds of nerves which feel pain), nor a brain to process feelings, I'd have no discomfort with sharing their null experience of existence.)

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*The afterlife proposition is not a Universal pandeistic belief. It is simply a logical extrapolation from a Universe which seems to some to be designed to bring us about in the first place.

Is Pandeism "sexed up" and "watered down"?

Leading atheist Richard Dawkins has written that "Pantheism is sexed-up atheism. Deism is watered-down theism."* With these ten words, it seems Dawkins intends to dispose of these two historical theological models and dive into the main event of challenging Theism, in its patchwork array of tens of thousands of faiths, sects, and cults. Naturally, the dismissive handwave Which Dawkins gives to Pantheism and Deism has profound implications for Pandeism, which is both a form of Deism, and an expression of the most poignant elements of Pantheism (those being that all things are part of 'God,' a force expressed through the laws of nature which govern the unfoldment of our Universe).

Indeed, had Dawkins thought to address Pandeism directly, he would likely have labelled it "sexed up Deism," and perhaps rightly so in light of Pandeism's overt case for the seeking of sexual pleasures (along with all of the other pleasures of life). But let us dig a little deeper into what Dawkins means by his characterizations of Deism and Pantheism. Firstly, as to Pantheism, Dawkins proposes that those who call themselves Pantheist are simply callng our Universe 'God,' but in so doing they are denying all of the characteristics traditionally accorded to a deity -- the infinitudes, the role as Creator, the conscious interventions, and such. And it is correct to observe that Pantheism as a theological model finds no use for these characteristics. But this does not itself render Pantheism a form of Atheism, as many different flavors of Pantheism exist, expressing a wide range of levels of spirituality.

Onward to Deism, Dawkins' notion of Deism as 'watered down theism' is that Deists are people who simply want to believe in a God, but are embarrassed by the childishness of scriptural myths and their failure to accord with scientific discovery, and by the egocentrism inherent in the human belief that a Universe-creating deity ought to stoop to giving directives to humans, or bending the laws of nature in answer to human desires expressed as prayers. And so, in Dawkins' estimation, the Deists take the religious beliefs which they've essentially inherited from their theistic ancestors, including whatever circular logic upheld those theistic beliefs, and stripped from them the most rhetorically reprehensible and logically unsustainable elements, leaving behind vague beliefs held for no reason but cultural momentum. And though Dawkins does address those arguments which appeal to both Deists and Theists, the fine tuning argument and the prime mover argument, for example, he tends to focus on theistic iterations of them, and to discredit their ability to actually prove a theological outcome, instead of addressing the degree to which they make it rational to believe ours to be a created Universe. And in fact Deists have long been formulators of new and novel approaches to the question of why we ought to believe in an ultimate power, and indeed why we ought to believe in a deistic theological model as against all others. Indeed, even Dawkins' associate Christopher Hitchens has given Deism credit for its comparative reasonableness, levying the criticism at Theism that one cannot get to Theism from the proofs which support Deism.

My answer to this charge is that Deism generally and Pandeism especially are not 'watered down' forms of Theism in any sense except that they wash away the human inventions which the ignorant and egotistical authors of the documents of theistic faith have over the centuries piled upon logically or intuitively perceived theological notions. Michelangelo is reported to have told a visiting Prince once that he did not create his statues; he simply removed the excess bits of marble which surrounded the forms already held within the stone. I will put aside for the moment the question of whether Pandeism itself might be called a work of art, and instead analogize it to a steel framework which has over time become covered with mud; watering down the structure washes away the mud, but reveals the framework as having a much stronger appearance than the structure would have been accorded before this cleansing. And so I would answer Dawkins' proposition with the counter that Deism is a much stronger position than any Theism, and can not be so cavalierly dismissed as to call it a 'watered down' anything.

But I'll concede that Pandeism is nicely sexed up, as formulations of Deism go.



* Dawkins, Richard, The God Delusion, "A deeply religious non-believer", page 40, 2006.

The destiny of the unevangelized, and the incompetently evangelized

One of the strongest objections to any faith system claiming Universality is the destiny of the unevangelized -- simply put, it is troubling to claim that only those who hold a certain belief will reap an afterlife reward -- and those who do not hold such belief will instead be punished with an afterlife of suffering -- where it is demonstrable that some number of people will have lived and died without ever even hearing of the belief. This, indeed, presents one of the major divides within individual religions, with believers fervently arguing for one position on the issue or the other, to the point of schism and bloody internecine religious war.

Perhaps more troubling still, there is the gray area of those who heard some snippet or other of this claimed 'one true' belief, but were presented it incompletely or incompetently, so that they were in no position to form a reasoned judgment about the relative logic of it while they lived. Indeed, where decisions are made based on imperfect information, it must become a very delicate art indeed to assert that one person over another has information perfect enough to make a decision upon.

The idea of admission to the positive afterlife based on "works" at least disposes of the problem of the unevangelised (and the less-discussed corollary of the incompetently evangelised), as one of the major failings of theistic faiths. But, such an idea disposes as well of the notion that one must have the correct belief, and so undermines the notion of one religion especially being the truth. Perhaps more devastatingly, as religious edifices go, it undermines the argument for funding and empowering a lavishly appointed priest-class.

And as to those who hear some piece of evangelism, it is quite possible that more people come to altogether reject the idea of a given "God," or of any especial iteration thereof, due to the offensive showing made by various theistic adherents, than due to any inherent objection which might be made against the idea itself. And just as clearly, there are at least some theists much prefer to experience the smug self-satisfaction of thinking they've won an argument via some fine point of theological wordplay than to experience something like actually helping the needy. So, if there was a God who punished anyone, it ought to first be thought to punish its own errant followers for setting such a shameful and repulsive example that their brutish conceit drives the multitude away from their professed deity.

The problem of the offensive missionary:

Picture this: a young missionary of one of the claimedly universal faiths (and I cite no especial example of a faith -- though I certainly could cite many out of personal experience) steps off the boat and onto a remote South Pacific island, one never before subject to any sort of evangelism. Previous visitors to the isle had only stopped to trade and survey, never to spread any faith, and so the natives are completely unaware that any religion exists other than their own local traditions, most likely some mix of reverence for nature and veneration of ancestors, passed down to them for thousands of generations. The people of this island speak no English; the missionary counts on miraculous intervention to supplement his communications, and so has learned but a few sentences in a language spoken by the next nearest islanders, presumed to have a common root. This missionary immediately takes to berating the natives for their failure to conform to his own moral preferences. Perhaps, based on his own errant religious instruction, he insists that the the natives will be condemned to eternal punishment because they wear nothing above the waist, or because they engage in work on a certain day of the week, or fail to engage in prayer on another. Perhaps this missionary declares that all of the marriages on the island are illegitimate because none, before his arrival, have conformed with his understanding of the appropriate ceremony. But shortly, he has given an absurd impression to the natives, who politely shoo him off their island at the next opportunity, resolved that the belief system peddled by this unprepared interloper is nonsensical, and thusly declining further missionary visitations.

Are these natives now to be deemed well-enough versed in the religion so poorly evangelized to them to be liable for eternal damnation, should they reject it? Are their children so liable, if the previous generation opts not to bother sharing the story? And, would it be at all fair for a deity to punish the nonbelieving native, and yet not punish the missionary whose conduct caused this affirmative state of nonbelief? And this problem is not limited to the isolated islands, for even in the hearts of the populations of crowded continents, there are countless preachers of countless faiths and sects and interpretations establishing a cacophony of assurances and accusations, threats and finger-pointing, enough to propel any sane man to tune out the claims of religion altogether (even those claims which might, on quiet reflection, be reasonable and defensible).

The problem of the isolated planet:

And beyond this, it stands to reason that if it's expectable for a deity to create some people (isolated tribes, etc) who never hear the true word, then it could create an entire planet of people who never hear the true word. And yet, it has been our experience in finally encountering those long-isolated tribes that they tended to have independently developed a theological model all their own, perhaps an animistic or polytheistic one, perhaps one with pantheistic or pandeistic or purely deistic overtones. And, naturally, just maybe, though extremely rarely in practice, it may be one with all the trimmings of monotheism. And so there might be another planet out there where some intelligent life has come to the fore and set forth a civilization with a level of knowledge and technology and sophistication of social institutions to rival our own. And, indeed, such a civilization, though not privy to any of the thousands of 'true' faiths professed on Earth could easily have as many 'true' faiths, as many doctrines and debates and deicides. And adherents to any faith on this alien world might be every bit as assured, every bit as fervent in their beliefs, as any Earthbound believer.

But here's the catch.

If it is possible that a 'true' deity may have revealed itself once, to one group, without bothering to provide for isolated groups to learn the truth encapsulated in its revelation, then perhaps we are as a planet such an isolated group. For one cannot reasonably postulate a deity capable of allowing an entire planet to wallow in ignorance and false faith without confessing that ours might be that planet. And in the same stroke, one ought to admit that, if there is a "one true faith" that all people are intended to discover, then all theistic faiths claiming universality are proved false by those who have lived and died without hearing of such faiths. Instead, what can be called true must be what can be discerned from a logical examination of our world, even by those who have never heard a word of any scripture.

Pandeism and Taoism

Having ventured forth a series of examinations of the possibilities of Pandeism with respect to various fictional Universes, I turn now to a new endeavor, the comparison of the elements of Pandeism to the religions of the world. My first effort in this new series is directed towards Taoism, in part because of its intriguing areas of correlation with Pandeism. But, mostly, because of a girl. Bless you, Alice, for this inspiration.

Taoism (or, to some, Daoism) is a beautiful and ancient philosophy originating in China around the 4th Century BC, and thereafter contributing ideas carried into virtually all later-developing religious paradigms. The essence of Taoism is the recognition that our world is naturally composed of opposing forces -- symbolized by the Yin and Yang -- which must be peacefully balanced against one another for a fruitful life to be realized. And, further, that a single truth, an ultimate creative principle, underlies all of these forces, and knowledge of this truth illuminates the path of proper conduct to achieve this desirable balance. The Tao is this truth, this path.

As we shall see, Pandeism and Taoism are not at all in conflict -- indeed, they may be taken as complementary, with Pandeism as a sort of "why are we here" which provides possible frameworks for morality, but doesn't necessarily tell us how we ought to act, while Taoism focuses more directly on the conduct of life without setting forth a "why," a basis for our having been created (or otherwise existing). One may be a Pandeist Taoist, just as readily as one may be a Pantheist Taoist or even an Atheist Taoist who denies deity but accepts the essential ideas of Taoism with respect to the balance of opposing forces.

Pandeistic and Taoist precepts and practices:

The formative texts of Taoism, traditionally credited to Lao Zi and Zhuang Zi, are by turns poetic and anecdotal, given to parable, poetry, and whimsy. But despite the wisdom acknowledged to be encompassed in these works, they are not claimed to have been written by a deity or upon a deity's command. Their writers are not lofted as prophets or demigods. Indeed, Taoism presents no orthodoxy, no dictator of metaphysical absolutes telling practitioners that their individual view of it is right or wrong based on his own interpretation of this or that selection of the ancient writings. Historical circumstances -- ebbs and tides of governmental purging and restoration, and attempts to meld in similar traditions, have resulted in there being many different views encompassed within the greater tradition, and it is understood that it dis-serves all of these to declare any one to be the one, correct path.

Pandeism and Taoism coincide in this lack of dogmatism, and the absence of an involved 'Creation myth' or an attempt to explain physical realities such as he strips of the zebra or the leglessness of the snake through just-so-stories. But Taoism and Pandeism are both indubitably easily confused with conventional religions, though each is essentially simply a path. Taoism begins with the Tao Te Ching, and the Tao Te Ching begins with the admonition:

The Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao
The name that can be named is not the eternal name....

Tao Te Ching, I

This is key, because it reminds us that we can only abstractly contemplate the Tao -- a notion reflected in the observation of Pandeism that logically extrapolating necessary qualities of our Universe's Creator is not the same as understanding it. Actually understanding such a thing is inherently beyond the constrained capacity of the human mind, and any claim to an understanding of it properly immediately raises a skeptical eyebrow. On Occasion, evangelists of other faiths have sought to reconcile their beliefs with Taoism by identifying the individual central figure of their faith -- perhaps Buddha or Jesus -- as a personification of the Tao. Such efforts misunderstand the Tao and the meaning of Lao Zi's explanation of it; one might reply that the Tao that can be reduced to a person is not the Tao. Pandeism notes as well the oddity of supposing that any individual person can be thought more divine or less divine in a Universe which is itself rationally thought to be holistically divine.

Meditation is a practice widely regarded as well-received within Taoism. Although Pandeism does not offer doctrinal guidance advocating meditation, it ought to be no surprise that many Pandeists engage in meditation, or simply a comparable deep contemplation of our Universe, for Pandeism is a discipline which demands thoughtful examination of all the things we know to attain logical and rational conclusions about the nature of our Universe. Indeed, it ought to be no surprise at all that many who explicitly or implicitly hew to Pandeism delve as well into Taoism, and other similarly contemplative traditions such as Zen Buddhism.

Pandeism and Taoism similarly provide a basis to practive reverence for nature and kindness to all living things, including a leaning towards vegetarianism (distinctly a practice of Taoism, and one followed by many Pandeists). For the Taoist, such practices are inherent to the desire to lead a balanced life, and avoid the imbalance inherent in violence. In Pandeism, this reverence and these practices come from the belief that all things are part of our Creator, and that by inflicting suffering upon other living things, we inflict the same upon our Creator -- and quite possibly, ultimately, upon ourselves.

Pantheistic elements of Taoism:

Taoism has additionally often been observed to incorporate a sense of the pantheistic -- the closest thing Taoism has to a Creation account is Lao Tzu's contention that "The world has a beginning," Tao Te Ching, LII, and his decidedly emanationist account:

Tao produces one
One produces two
Two produce three
Three produce myriad things
Myriad things, backed by yin and embracing yang
Achieve harmony by integrating their energy

Tao Te Ching, XLII

The Tao has given rise to things, but:

Virtue raises them
Grows them, educates them
Perfects them, matures them
Nurtures them, protects them

Tao Te Ching, LI.

Zhuang Zi similarly relayed that "Heaven and I were created together, and all things and I are one," and, when asked where the Tao could be found, replied that "There is nowhere where it is not.... There is not a single thing without Tao."

Parallels between Pandeism and Taoism in these account include the idea of there being a 'source' and of such source being a constant sustainer of every thing in our Universe as we experience it. Pandeism differs from Taoism in Pandeism's supposition of an intelligent entity motivated by some need to set forth a Universe in the original instance. But this difference is not a contradiction; it is simply an element by which Pandeism seeks to explain the characteristics of our Universe as they are uncovered by modern science. As Taoism does not claim to provide an explanation for the science underlying our existence, it can raise no great rift between the theological perspectives if Pandeism does attempt such a thing.

Deistic elements of Taoism:

Taoism, like Pandeism, does not propose that there is an intervening deity which desires worship, and will punish those who fail to so behave. And like Pandeism, Taoism does not require adherents to believe in miracles from on high. It does not require that we surrender our skepticism with respect to supernatural claims. The Tao instead raises up reason as a value, as does Pandeism, in deducing that any Creator who would set forth a Universe wherein reason would serve as so powerful a tool must intend it to be used. Taoism does not espouse teachings demanding one sort of conduct while providing stories of a deity or a deity's servants acting the opposite.

As with Deism generally, and Pandeism as a branch thereof, Taoism offers no justification whatsoever for human or animal sacrifice, nor for infanticide, bigotry, or genocide. It provides no excuse upon which to work injustice, or to inflict pain and suffering upon others. Taoism, instead, prizes patience. It stresses reason, tolerance, respect, and self-control, and so any Pandeist studying the Tao would be struck by how similarly the paths of contemplation run between the traditions. 

For many Pandeists, the need for each person to discern their own meaning -- in the absence of supernatural guidance -- is a logical outgrowth of the philosophy as well. And just as Pandeism reconciles broadly the principles of Deism and Pantheism, so are the elements of Deism and Pantehism reflected in Taoism reconciled therein as well.

On governance:

Taoism and Pandeism are notable as well for their political and sexual perspectives.

Politically, Taoism originated with the expression of some anti-government precepts, both by Lao Zi and Zhuang Zi, which were unusual for religious insitutions of their day. It the Tao Te Ching, Lao Zi writes:

When there are many restrictions in the world
The people become more impoverished
....
The more laws are posted
The more robbers and thieves there are.

Tao Te Ching, LVII

And further on it is written:

When governing is lackluster
The people are simple and honest
When governing is scrutinizing
The people are shrewd and crafty.

Tao Te Ching, LVIII

As has been similarly pointed out, Pandeism provided theological support for limiting the potentially deleterious interference of government -- which, due to the evolutionarily competitive nature of its human participants, often ends up picking 'winners and losers' and being corrupted to pick the already-winners to continue winning. Contrary to this interference in the lives of individuals, Pandeism notes that we are each best suited to determine our own choices, and our quest for the diverse experiences we share with our Creator requires that we must be permitted to choose them deal with the consequences of them.

On sexuality:

Sexually, Lao Zi wrote:

Those who hold an abundance of virtue....
do not know of sexual union but can manifest arousal
Due to the optimum of essence.

Tao Te Ching, LV

But later writings originating in alchemy and incorporated into Taoism offered a great deal of positivity, advocating frequent sexual intercourse with multiple partners as a means of extendinglongevity, and possibly even immortality. Pandeism, naturally, is equally promotional towards sexual pleasures, as these are some of the most profound and pleasurable experiences through which our Creator shares in our existence. But the ideas circulated in Taoism, derived from notions of yin and yang, had some oddities, including the proposition that if one partner produced sexual fluids while the other did not, the partner who restrained themself from that culmination would be able to absorb the vital energy of the one who was unable to work such restraint.

And so, it was advocated that a man could extend his life by bedding young women, especially virgins, and most especially several virgins in the same night, and bringing them to orgasm while not himself ejaculating (although methods were developed for men to experience orgasm without ejaculating). Similarly, it was advocated that a woman could extend her life by bedding many young men and receiving their life-giving sperm into her body's sexually penetrable orifices. With these ends in mind, many books were written espousing sexual positions and activities and techniques by which one partner could bring about the most profound orgasms in the other -- a seemingly selfless desire, but one steeped in a more selfish goal of partaking of the life-essence of the other partner.

But these notions, derived as they were from alchemist theorists, run counter to the more enlightened Taoist quest for balance, for respect for nature (of which sexuality is an expression), for moderation of competing desires. Modernly, sexuality has largely fallen away as a focus of Taoism; its sexual dimensions were wiped away due to historical purges of sexuality by regimes more given to sexual shame and suppression. But some of the ancient Taoist practices were preserved in the more sexually open cultures to which they were passed, and have been adapted to aid in the treatment of sexual dysfunctions such as premature ejaculation. So far as it does exist, the emphasis in modern Taoist practices no longer espouses prolonging life by avoiding ejaculation, but has instead shifted to simply realizing the health benefits generally associated with an active and balanced sexuality. This coincides with the view of Pandeism, that consensual sexual enjoyment ought to be experienced with great liberality and in great variety, to maximize the introduction of happiness into the world; and that each person ought to give great attention to the pleasuring of their partner, whose pleasurable experiences will be experienced by the giver when all things return to one. 

Summation:

It befits the contemplative rationality of Taoism that it would comport with these same principles in Pandeism. That two theological traditions, with such different origins in time and place, share so many reasoned determinations about the nature of the human condition, simply underscores the delightful notion that no matter how far apart we may be in time and space, reason may bring us together. 


---- 


Some additional reading:
The Tao Te Ching, translated
Naturalistic Pantheism and Philosophical Taoism -- an essay with some excellent related overtures.

Pandeism and Atheism

The relationship between Pandeism and Atheism as deeply-held philosophies is, by turns, complementary and contentious, curious and quizzical. There are different models of Atheism, but the ideology generally either actively proposes the absence of a 'God' or at least passively denies that there is any reason to believe such a thing exists. Much of Atheist discourse is directed towards theistic arguments and the fairly universal inconsistencies and absurdities of scriptural documents. This attention is symptomatic of how many indefensible theological models do exist -- as Bernard Haisch wrote in The God Theory, "I freely grant that even reductionism is preferable to a belief that slaughter and destruction in the name of a vengeful God will result in immediate passage to heaven."1

And so it can be no wonder that the Atheist, confronted repeatedly with deeply and visibly flawed theological models, with models of arbitrarily directed hatefulness and irrationality, long cloaked in a deadly aversion to being questioned, becomes convinced no such model can be true. And this inculcation becomes set, most often, before ever learning in any depth of deistic models generally, or of Pandeism especially. And so, by the time the atheist is exposed to the deistic or the pandeistic model, his experiences with less rational models have got him fixed against any proposition that would have ours be an intentionally and intelligently created Universe -- even if these models are even more effective at dismissing notions of a vain, violent, or 'jealous' Universe-creating entity, even if these models rationally demonstrate that the most logical Creator would carry none of the arbitrary and dangerous negative projections of human bias so deeply set in theistic mythologies. The atheistic reactionary revulsion to metaphysical accounts too readily may metastasize into an absolute and unwaivering reductionist dogmatism against any explanation existing at all.

And therein lies the master problem. Atheism is essentially a rejection of a class of explanations, but it is not itself an explanation of anything. Consider: if you were to walk into a friend's office, and you saw a large collection of stamps on his desk, you would intuitively know that the most likely explanation of how that pile got there would be that somebody placed them there; that's the how, that is perhaps not so controversial. But suppose you asked why they were there -- if your friend responded "well, I am not a stamp collector," that would would be a refutation of one possible explanation, but it wouldn't then become an explanation in and of itself. And if the response to every such why-is-it-so type of proposition was to deny the truth of it, or dismiss it as unproveable, then at the end of the day we are left with an apparent prohibition on having a why to account for what is observed.

This problem plays out most pointedly in the examination of that most singular of events, the beginning of our Universe. It is important to remember that this was not a theoretical or hypothetical event, but is instead an historical event, an historical fact. Our Universe gives every appearance of existing; we are in it, as observers, to attest to this fact. Our Universe has several measurable indicators of expansion from an initial point, on this point atheists agree with many theists. And so, at some past point, our Universe began. The how of this is the province of theoretical physicists, who now best guess that our Universe's existence is an expression of quantum mechanics. But this how is not a why. And it is possible, undoubtedly, that there is no why, that it simply is. But the position of atheism, or at least of the most committed variations of that philosophy is that you can not ask why, perhaps that you must not ask why. And the rationale for this prohibition is generally given in the untestability or unprovability of any why-is-it-so proposition relating to so mysteriously distant of an historical event. At its worst, this tendency descends to calling such explanations 'pseudoscience' or 'woo-woo,' seeking to degrade them to the point where the critic is insulated from any need to contemplate the implications of there being any explanation at all.

As might be predicted from the initial problem, an examination of the literature of Atheism reveals a strong tendency towards focused arguments against theistic beliefs. Deism, Pantheism, and their family of philosophies are generally not addressed, or only glancingly so. The inconsistencies in theistic texts are attacked. The murderous histories of theistic adherents are laid out (and often met with accusations of the same coming from atheist-governed regimes). The theistic deity is called out for allowing all manner of evil and suffering to flourish, up to and including the death by starvation of small children, despite ostensibly having the power to prevent it. It is unsurprising, then, that confronted with a theological model which lacks such flesh hooks into which Atheism can sink its teeth, Atheists tend nonetheless to act as if these nontheistic ideas can be attacked with theistic contentions. Indeed, it sometimes takes quite a bit of patient explaining to get an Atheist to stop using antiscriptural and antitheistic arguments against theological theories which have no scripture, which do not posit infinite or active deities, and which are indeed divorced from the elements of theism.

Pandeism, on the other hand, has no outward quarrel with Atheism. Being at core an exercise in probabilistic logic, Pandeism is fundamentally agnostic, acknowledging at the outset that it is entirely possible that the atheistic view is correct, insofar as there may be no why in which case all why explanations are indeed properly rejected. It can never truly be known, Pandeism concedes, whether ours is a created Universe; it can only be determined what are the absolutely necessary characteristics of a Universe-Creator, and what are the implications of an entity having those characteristics. And so, Pandeists tend not to engage Atheists with the proposition that Atheists are wrong to hold that position, but simply to defend the proposition (when set upon by the Atheist critique) that neither is Pandeism an irrational position to hold. And so I would simply tell Atheists: we'll continue standing up for the right of science to ask 'how?' and we hope you'll not stand against the right of Pandeists to ask 'why?'

----

1. Haisch, Bernard, PhD, The God Theory (2006), page 25.

Work being done in Pandeism

I realize I ought to be blogging more on Pandeism, as there is so, so much to discuss about it!!  I tend to slowly wend my way through big pieces, but I'm going to try to keep up more here on a day-to-day basis.

Today I'd like to shout out to other Pandeists, and others who, whether themselves Pandeist or no, have made interesting strides in the study of Pandeism.  First up, Nick Tafacory has consistently posted interesting ideas on Pandeism on his own (better kept-up) blog, Conflicting Thoughts.  These include, to be specific:

• Beginning Work(s) on Pandeism
• Pandeism Revisited
• Pandeism Once More
• More Notes on Pandeism

The last one of those happens to contain links to scans of seven pages of handwritten notes -- I've been promising to provide my thoughts on those, especially with respect to many questions raised which are deserving of answers, and will have them!!

I have, as well, been privileged to meet Personified Music, a new YouTube friend (naturally through the Official YouTube PanDeism Channel.   Personified Music wrote to me (and has kindly permitted me to reproduce) the following:

Hi fellow pandeist!
Hello!
I've been seeking someone who had the same beliefs as me! At last someone who understands the true nature! Since you seem to have a great grasp of logic, I'd like for you to examine my argument in favor of this belief.
1) The universe has a creator
- Premise 1: The universe is finite
Considering that the Big Bang is considered to be the beginning of time, this universe is finite
- Premise 2: All finite things have a beginning and an end
Basic definitions:
Infinite means without beginning or end. Finite is the opposite of that.
- Premise 3: Finite things must be created
To begin, one must have a cause, and that cause must be initiated by something.
- CONCLUSION 1: The universe was created
2) To create the universe, one must be omnipotent.
- Premise 1: All things that exist must be perceivable in space
If not perceived, one cannot be comprised of matter. If not comprised of matter, one cannot exist.
- Premise 2: Through premise 1, we discover that the universe and all its contents is everything, as it is the only thing perceivable in space and time,
- Premise 3: To create everything, one most be able to do everything.
Explains itself
- CONCLUSION 2: That creator is omnipotent
3) To be omnipotent, one must be omnipresent.
- Premise A1: To be omnipotent, one must be able to execute every action
- Premise A2: Instantaneosity (to do something instantly) is an action
- Premise A3: To execute something instantaneously, one must be the action in itself, as being next to something, or even its immediate vicinity would require a given amount of time
- Premise B1: Matter occupies space
- Premise B2: To be omnipresent, one must occupy all space.
- CONCLUSION 3: To be omnipresent, one must be the matter
Summary:
- CONCLUSION 1: The universe was created
- CONCLUSION 2: That creator must be omnipotent
- CONCLUSION 3A: To be omnipotent, one must be omnipresent
- CONCLUSION 3B: To be omnipresent, one must be matter.
FINAL CONCLUSION: God is the universe

This is an interesting and fruitful series of propositions.  I would be cautious to discern relative omnipotence (the ability to do anything which can be done) from the absolute omnipotence proposed by some theists (the ability to do anything, including logically impossible things). But, indeed, the comment relating omnipotence and omnipresence brings to my mind the proposition of Duke University PhD Physicist Robert G. Brown in A Theorem Concerning God, and especially in the core of that work, The Pandeist Theorem -- recommended reading for all!!

Blessings!!

Man's place in a pandeistic Universe

One of the complaints leveled against Pandeism by theists is that it does not provide for a sufficiently 'special place' for man. There is, after all, an idea in many faiths which intensely appeals to man's sense of self-importance that our Universe owes us a religious truth which makes us feel good about ourselves, even if it must in so doing counter science and render false the proof provided by our senses. Indeed, in many faith systems the presence of such a central place for man is a selling point, so much so that these religions can only bitterly and grudgingly release notions such as the Earth sitting at the center of our Universe, much less sitting at the center of our Solar System with the Sun and planets making perfect circles around it.

For those keen to make the error of confusing Pandeism with mere Pantheism, it is supposed as well that since our Creator has become our Universe, and exists within all things in our Universe, from the hearts of stars and interstellar clouds of gas to bacteria and fungi, that man is no more important in the pandeistic scheme than a tree or a rock of comparable size. This perceived circumstance is only magnified by the absence in Pandeism of a theological need to deny man's descent from more primitive life forms through evolution by natural selection, taken by many religions as another insult to the central importance of man in our Universe. But in fact, the very nature of our Universe reveals these concerns to be simply a misapprehension.

As has been noted before, our Universe has been set forth with a number of characteristics which would only make sense in the context of intelligent life coming to exist and being able to observe them, and to advance itself through them. The existence of temporal fortuity of our observable Universe, for example, is something which only makes sense in the context of observers capable of comprehending the age of our Universe and its implications for their existence within it. The habitability of planets conceptually within our technological reach similarly indicates not simply that life ought to arise within our Universe, but that such life will develop the capacity for interstellar travel resulting in interaction between inhabitants originating in different worlds (and, indeed, that such travel must be physically possible within the constraints of our governing dynamics).

And so it becomes apparent that our Universe may well be designed to suit the origination of intelligent life. Not 'man' necessarily, but certainly 'man' as an example, and so something more than incidentally. And in Pandeism this makes sense because our Creator has become our Universe for precisely the purpose of experiencing existence through it. It is doubly important to make this distinction clear, for it is the subject of frequent confusion and occasional obfuscation -- Pandeism does not propose, as some misunderstand, that our Creator set forth our Universe with the expectation that some other intelligent life would arise especially, with man being an unintended side effect of the Creation of that other form. Instead, Pandeism proposes that our Creator set forth a Universe with governing dynamics of matter and energy which were attuned to intelligent life arising somewhere, and possibly in many places. We simply happen to be one example of such life, and so while the nature of a pandeistic Universe is one where our Creator can not have known exactly what would come about where, man is precisely the sort of thing which is intended to come about through the correct operation of those governing dynamics.

And why is man more important than trees and rocks? Because the entire existence of our Universe would serve no better purpose than to inform our Creator of what it is to exist as something other than itself, and in that capacity, thinking, self-reflective beings such as ourselves are indeed generators of a far greater range of perspective than anything, living or dead, which does less in the realm of contemplation. But it not be imagined that we are, as the older religions would like to imagine, a finished product. We are not at the end of our evolutionary journey, but at the beginning, and what an ending such a beginning promises to bring to those able to grasp hold of it!!