Words by Hannah Tricker

On Friday night, members of Melbourne University’s Secular Society and the Melbourne and Monash branch of Christian Union will debate one another on the merits of their worldviews. However—put a hold on those eye-rolls, cynics—this will not be the stock-standard theological debate, with each side working their hardest to trump the arguments of the other. Subtitled ‘a debate with a twist’, this discussion will be unique in that two of the main speakers will defend the views they usually oppose.

The debate, which will feature speeches as well as a Q&A/discussion panel, will involve two naturalists and two Christians. James Fodor, 24-year-old president of the Melbourne University Secular Society, will be one of those making the switch, arguing for the position of Christianity. He has experience debating both in high school, and in university.

“I enjoy the rigorous construction and presentation of ideas, and putting all the reasons out there and debating them back and forth,” James explains. “That can often be done poorly, if people don’t actually engage with the arguments and just talk past each other, which I think happens rather too often in these sorts of things. But when a debate is done well, I think it can be a really useful way of demonstrating whether you understand what you’re arguing for, whether you can engage with what the other person is saying.”

The switch was an idea given to James by a friend of his, who introduced him to the concept of an ’ideological Turing test‘. This test invites people to present themselves as somebody who agrees with a certain position in such a compelling way that observers can’t tell whether they actually disagree with it.

“The idea behind it is that if you can argue an opponent’s position so well that other people can’t distinguish you from them, that’s a good indication that you really understand their position,” James explains. “In my view, if you say that ‘this argument is wrong’, you should be able to articulate that argument in the strongest way possible and say exactly why… if you can’t do that, then how do you know the argument is wrong?”

Thomas Henry Larsen, a co-organiser of the debate, became involved after pitching a similar switch idea to James. Thomas is studying Computer Science at Monash, and is a member and former vice-president of Monash’s Christian Union. Like James, his intention in the debate is to leave people asking questions not of the debate, but of themselves.

“One of the concerns that James and I were talking about when we first started to throw around ideas [was that] often people look for the best arguments for their own position,” Thomas explains. “My concern with that is that no-one actually leaves having learnt much at all. So I think by having a switch…  it’s kind of, in some ways, getting people to leave with a stone in their shoe.”

“If people come away from this and go to the library and pull out five books on the best arguments against Christianity, for example, I’ll be happy. As long as they look into both sides of the issue.”

Tom, who is defending naturalism in the debate, found that a lot of the issues he’s studied in preparation are issues he sought answers to several years ago when he went through “a period of significant doubt”.

“It’s kind of been a ‘me-search’, in some ways,” he chuckles. “That’s kind of the process. I’ve taken some Philosophy of Religion classes with Graham Oppy at Monash; that was helpful. I think he’s probably one of the most fair atheist philosophers of religion I know. So, kind of looking into his defences and different positions—I guess that’s kind of how I’ve gone about it.”

According to James, the decision to use the idea of naturalism rather than atheism to represent the non-religious perspective was suggested by Thomas, and was a sensible decision given the etymology of the latter term.

“Atheism is a problematic concept, really, because it’s sort of empty…it doesn’t mean anything other than simply not believing in God. Atheism has no substantive position of its own; it doesn’t have anything to say,” James explains. “Naturalism says there are only natural entities… things operate only by the laws of physics and matter and energy interaction. So, in a sense, it’s a more substantive position that can be placed in opposition to Christianity.”

Organising the debate was something James, Thomas, and some more of their friends had been considering for a while, as they believe having an understanding of these topics is important and relevant. Thomas thinks it is important that the questions described by religion line up with how reality is, and also thinks religion has historical value.

“If you look at the intellectual heritage of western civilisation, Christianity has had a very significant impact on that. So I think, even just when we want to understand our own intellectual heritage, it’s really useful to have some background knowledge. And that would go both for people who are Christians and aren’t Christians as well.”

James thinks the naturalism-Christianity debate is relevant because it is fundamental to a lot of other “higher-level” social and political issues that are currently part of public discourse.

“If people are arguing about abortion law, or about religious instruction in schools, or these sorts of things, people can talk past each other all day. But at the end of the day, if one person’s belief comes down to [the fact that] they believe in God and God says that this is the case, and another person doesn’t… then they’re not going to really address the core of the disagreement until they start talking about naturalism versus theism.”

In order to avoid arguing over tangential political issues, the speakers on both sides have agreed to blacklist certain topics. Gay marriage, a seemingly ubiquitous tangent during Christian-Athiest dialogues, is one topic that will not be appearing on Friday’s agenda. James insists this isn’t because the topic isn’t important, but rather that it is not relevant to the debate. In its place will be discussions focused on  the more historical and philosophical issues, like the cosmological argument, explanatory power, and the historicity of Jesus.

James is aware that people might not be willing to attend the debate because of negative preconceptions formed through previous debates on this topic. But he reiterates that the organisers are trying extremely hard to make the debate appeal to a wide audience. “I think a lot of people, or at least some people, are a bit cynical about debates… debates can sometimes be too much about the rhetoric, and not enough about the substance of the argument,” he concedes. “We’re definitely trying to focus on making it as constructive, useful, informative, and engaging a discussion as we can. And so I would hope that people would take that into consideration, and if it’s something that they think sounds important and interesting, that they’d come along.”

Christianity vs Naturalism: A Debate with a Twist will be held on Friday 28 March in the Latham Theatre, Redmond Barry building, at the University of Melbourne. 

Words by Scout Boxall
Illustration by Jennifer Choat

Like many Arts students, I aspire to a life of inertial academia – always learning, never doing. Our talents are best spent pondering the immensities of an ambivalent universe, filling out Centrelink forms and ’finding oneself’ on a Contiki tour of the Far East. God forbid we ever acquire some marketable skills—other than a knack for making decidedly mediocre lattés and a propensity to knock over retail displays—and enter the workplace. Third Century BC Greek author and philosopher Epicurus had a word for the ideal student’s condition: ataraxia, the purest form of happiness.


1. Whatever’s up there probably isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

This continues to get Epicurus—and probably this columnist—in hot water. Epicurus tackled the ’god’ problem with brutal materialistic logic. It went something like this. God is good and all-powerful, right? He tends to his flock etc. Now explain why is there evil. Either (A) that being cannot eradicate evil, and is therefore not omnipotent; or (B) he/she/it can eradicate evil but chooses not to, and is therefore not benevolent. It is more likely, Epicurus postured, that the god(s) we worship – if indeed they exist – are unconcerned with us mere mortals. There is no point appeasing a petty deity; just do as you please.


2. Settle for mediocrity.

Take on as little responsibility as possible. You should only do the minimum work required to pass a capstone subject/stay above the poverty line. We should not learn in order to be assessed or have our knowledge quantified, but to enrich our experience of the world around us. Don’t go for that internship for its own sake if you don’t want to do it. Instead, if your passion is restocking corporate kitchens with biscuits and contending with lecherous colleagues, be satisfied as a lowly tea lad(y). Want a qualification? Epicurus recommends a breadth course in the School of Life.


3. You can have too much of a good thing.

To the philanderers, hedonists, and general hooligans; don’t think that this is a moral Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free card. Epicurus had the foresight to note that spending your days drug-addled, inebriated, and comatose is not conducive to long-term happiness. Many pleasures contain the seeds of pain. His idea of pleasure was a simple life of philosophical conversation among friends under a tree on South Lawn. What Epicurus wanted was wholesome, clean fun.


4. Avoid politics.

It doesn’t matter which century or continent you’re in, investing in politics is never worth it. There’s no point waiting on the world to change. The hopeless machinations of politics will only leave you anxious and jaded. Don’t bother voting either. Take the fine like a man—with your raw-egg-protein-supplement shake. Better to live in blissful obscurity, Epicurus suggests.


“I was not. I was. I am not. I do not care.”—Epicurus’ badass epitaph.