"Proofs" (even 5 of 'em) are worse than faith. Why we can't "logic" our way into belief in God.

Today I’m going to talk about something big—bigger than the latest political circus, bigger even than all our current wars (and threatened very-near-future wars), even bigger than our $36+ trillion national debt.

Today I want to talk about God, or more specifically, why a 13th-century monk’s “proofs” for God’s existence might not be the slam-dunk we’re told they are.

And please don’t think I’m attacking faith, per se, or religion. As I said in a previous episode with economist and devout Christian Bob Murphy, I think religion is a very positive and useful thing in our society. It has many good effect for our species. One might even posit that we evolved to have this kind of faith.

But I’m not talking about faith here. I’m talking about supposed “proof”. Specifically, I’m talking about Thomas Aquinas and his famous “Five Proofs” (or “Five Ways”). These are the go-to arguments for people who believe they can armchair-theorize proofs about the nature of the cosmos.

But here’s the thing: the universe is a weird, wild place, and we humans don’t know nearly enough to be so certain about its fundamental nature. Maybe it’s time to ease off the gas pedal of certainty and take a humbler stance.

For those who haven’t dusted off their theology books lately, Aquinas’s Five Proofs are a medieval attempt to logically demonstrate God’s existence. They’re rooted in observation and reason, which sounds great until you realize how poor our visibility is on such things. After all, we peer through a glass darkly, as the saying goes.

1. The Argument from Motion: Everything in motion needs a mover. Something had to start the whole chain—a “First Mover,” which Aquinas says is God.

2. The Argument from Causation: Every effect has a cause, and you can’t have an infinite chain of causes. There’s a “First Cause”—yep, God again.

3. The Argument from Contingency: Things exist that don’t have to exist. Something necessary must underpin it all—a “Necessary Being” (you guessed it, God).

4. The Argument from Degree: We see things that are more or less perfect. There must be a standard of absolute perfection—God, the gold standard.

5. The Argument from Design: The universe looks orderly, like it was designed with purpose. That points to an intelligent designer—God, the cosmic architect.

Sounds airtight, right? Except, well, it’s not. These proofs rely heavily on their massive assumptions — more like assertions. Where did those come from? I say Aquinas dreamed them up because of an all too human foible — the overwhelming need to find certainty where none is to be had.

The Universe Is Stranger Than a Medieval Monk Could Imagine

Aquinas was a smart guy—brilliant, even. But he was working with a 13th-century toolkit. He didn’t know about quantum mechanics, where particles apparently pop in and out of existence like they’re playing cosmic hide-and-seek. He didn’t know about relativity, where time and space bend in bizarre ways.

He didn’t know about the Big Bang, or dark energy, or the fact that some huge amount of the universe seems to be made of “dark matter” we can’t even see. Heck, we don’t fully understand gravity—the force that keeps your coffee mug from floating off the table.

If we’re still scratching our heads about something as basic as that, how can we make sweeping claims about the “First Mover” or the “Necessary Being”?

Take the Argument from Motion. Aquinas says everything in motion needs a mover, and there can’t be an infinite regress of movers. Fair enough on its face, but modern physics throws a wrench in that logic. At the quantum level, particles move in ways that defy classical causality—think Heisenberg’s uncertainty principle, where stuff just happens without a clear “mover.”

And what about the Big Bang? We don’t know what “caused” it, if “cause” even makes sense at the Planck scale. Some physicists speculate about multiverses or cyclic universes, where our Big Bang is just one bubble in an infinite foam. In such a maelstrom of uncertainty, Aquinas’s tidy chain of movers starts looking more like a tangled ball of string.

The Argument from Causation has similar problems. Aquinas insists there’s a First Cause because infinite causes are impossible. But why? We don’t know enough to rule out infinite regress—or to say it needs a single starting point. String theory posits vibrating strings in 11 dimensions (yeah, eleven). Other models suggest parallel universes or time loops.

These ideas are bonkers, sure, but they’re grounded in math and experiment, not just armchair theology. If we can’t wrap our heads around time—which, by the way, might not even be linear at the universe’s origin—how can we be so sure about a “First Cause”?

We’re Guessing About Contingency and Perfection

The Argument from Contingency says there must be a Necessary Being to explain why anything exists at all. It’s a deep question: why is there something rather than nothing? But here’s the rub: we don’t know anywhere near enough to say the answer must be a single, conscious entity.

Maybe the universe itself is necessary in some way we don’t understand. Maybe quantum fluctuations in a vacuum state (which, weirdly, isn’t “nothing”) can spark existence. At this stage in our understanding, we are like ants trying to explain a supercomputer—we’re just not equipped to make that call.

The Argument from Degree, about perfection, is even shakier. Aquinas says there’s an absolute standard of goodness or beauty, and that’s God. But “perfection” is a human concept, and highly subjective. One person’s perfect sunset is another’s “meh.”

And in nature, perfection is nowhere to be found—think of the clumsy panda or the human appendix, which seems designed to make us miserable. If there’s a cosmic standard, it’s not obvious, and pinning it on God feels like a huge leap.

Design? Or Just Our Brains Seeing Patterns?

The Argument from Design is probably the most intuitive—look at the universe, it’s so orderly! There must be a designer! But humans are wired to see patterns, even where there aren’t any. Ever see a face in a cloud? That’s your brain at work. The universe’s “order” might just be us projecting meaning onto chaos.

And it’s not that orderly—black holes, supernovae, and cosmic voids don’t exactly scream “intelligent design.” Evolution, too, is a messy, wasteful (and yet conservative!) process, not a blueprint from a cosmic engineer. Plus, if the universe is designed, why does it need bizarre stuff like dark energy or quantum entanglement to function?

Seems like a weird way to run a railroad — and more to the point, all this complexity should make us far less certain than Aquinas would have us be about what’s going on.

The Real Problem: Our Need for Certainty

Here’s where human nature comes in — a thing I love and am so fascinated by that it’s why I (kinda) named my podcast and this Substack after it. We humans hate uncertainty. It makes us itchy. We want answers, preferably ones that fit on a bumper sticker.

Aquinas’s proofs aren’t just arguments—they’re a comfort blanket for a species staring into the abyss of an incomprehensibly vast universe. Saying “God did it” feels good because it wraps everything up in a neat bow. But the universe doesn’t owe us neatness.

Look at what we’re working with: we’re still arguing about what time is. We’ve got theories about vibrating strings, infinite dimensions, and parallel universes that sound like sci-fi fever dreams. These aren’t crackpot ideas—they’re from physicists at places like MIT and CERN, backed by math we barely understand.

If we’re postulating stuff that wild to explain experimental data, maybe we should pump the brakes on claiming we’ve cracked the code of existence with five medieval thought experiments.

A Humbler Path Forward

Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying God doesn’t exist. I’m not the kind of frenzied atheist who shakes a fist at the sky and makes equally unfounded assertions as to the nature of the universe we exist in. That would be exactly the kind of armchair-theorizing I’m arguing against in this article. I’m just saying we don’t know.

And that’s okay. The universe is a mystery, and mysteries are what drive science, philosophy, and, yeah, even faith. But when we cling to certainty—whether it’s Aquinas’s proofs or multiverse theories—we risk closing our minds to the weird, wonderful truth that might be out there.

Maybe God’s out there, maybe not. Maybe the universe is a cosmic accident, or maybe it’s a masterpiece. But until we understand gravity, time, or why socks keep disappearing in the dryer, let’s hold off on declaring we’ve got the ultimate answer.

Naturally,

Adam

Thanks for reading Haman Nature! If you enjoyed this, consider subscribing for more of my takes on life, liberty, and the pursuit of truth. And if you’re feeling bold, drop a comment—what’s your take on Aquinas’s proofs?

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