Also not sure where you are seeing an impressive “depth of scholarship” in The Dawkins Delusion. I’m not impressed at all. For instance, his oddly brief discussion of potential biological origins (pages 55-57) is pretty lame. On page 55 he characterizes Dawkins’ view of the biological origins of religion as “essentially natural tendencies [that] may have become misdirected, ending up as something fundamentally religious. Religion is thus an ‘accidental by-product’ or a ‘misfiring of something useful.’” Then, having presented a one-sentence caricature of one particular aspect of the theoretical framework of human evolutionary biology that remains sketchy and incomplete, he proceeds to criticize it not on the terms of evolutionary biology, but by what looks more like literary theory.

On page 56 he calls the one-sentence caricature “more than a little inconsistent with [Dawkins’] own ‘universal Darwinism,’ which eschews any notion of purpose—a view famously summarized in his statement that the universe has ‘no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind pitiless indifference. How can Dawkins speak of religion as something ‘accidental’ when his understanding of the evolutionary process precludes any theoretical framework that allows him to suggest that some outcomes are intentional and others accidental? It is inconsistent with a Darwinian view of the world. For Darwinism, everything is accidental. Things may have the appearance of design—but this appearance of design or intentionality arises from random developments.”

McGrath then pretends this is “a minor point,” and criticizes Dawkins’ lack of “evidence,” because he uses words like “maybe” and “might.”

His whole argument turns not on the validity of the underlying evolutionary theory (and if he is going to criticize on the grounds of what is not present, then it would be appropriate to note that nowhere does McGrath say, “My own survey of the biological literature on point reveals no evidence for Dawkins’ assertions”), but on the meaning of the word “accidental” and the use of conditional words like “maybe” and “might.” If McGrath is going to advance a fundamentally linguistic argument, the least he could do is also address the issue of how the complex epistemological problems of knowledge—scientific, theological, or otherwise—should be phrased in books for a popular audience.

Perhaps Dawkins made a misstep in choosing to use the word “accident,” but is it really so bad? What other words but “might” and “maybe” would an honest person trained in the scientific method—where everything is a matter of probability, not certainty—use when talking about something that remains the subject of ongoing research? But McGrath no more provides a better linguistic framework to convey the underlying ideas than he addresses the substance of those ideas. He says he “felt that [he] was being bludgeoned into submission” by Dawkins’ assertions “rather than led along willingly on account of the weight of the evidence,” but despite his self-proclaimed penchant for evidence, he offers none of his own in opposition.

The other portions of the book that I have found as I flip through it (haven’t read the whole thing yet) seem to be about the same. McGrath skates across a difficult issue, throws out some slick rhetorical response that seems on first blush to rebut Dawkins, but on further analysis provides nothing of value. I find that pretty cheesy, considering that one of McGrath’s central contentions about The God Delusion are that Dawkins, uh, skates across difficult issues with slick rhetoric but nothing of value. His assessment of Dawkins may be valid at some points (I would expect that in such a book as The God Delusion, that attempts to tackle such a huge subject, there would almost have to be some points like that), but I don’t think his own responses to Dawkins fare any better.

Also not sure where you are seeing an impressive “depth of scholarship” in The Dawkins Delusion. I’m not impressed at all. For instance, his oddly brief discussion of potential biological origins (pages 55-57) is pretty lame. On page 55 he characterizes Dawkins’ view of the biological origins of religion as “essentially natural tendencies [that] may have become misdirected, ending up as something fundamentally religious. Religion is thus an ‘accidental by-product’ or a ‘misfiring of something useful.’” Then, having presented a one-sentence caricature of one particular aspect of the theoretical framework of human evolutionary biology that remains sketchy and incomplete, he proceeds to criticize it not on the terms of evolutionary biology, but by what looks more like literary theory.

On page 56 he calls the one-sentence caricature “more than a little inconsistent with [Dawkins’] own ‘universal Darwinism,’ which eschews any notion of purpose—a view famously summarized in his statement that the universe has ‘no design, no purpose, no evil and no good, nothing but blind pitiless indifference. How can Dawkins speak of religion as something ‘accidental’ when his understanding of the evolutionary process precludes any theoretical framework that allows him to suggest that some outcomes are intentional and others accidental? It is inconsistent with a Darwinian view of the world. For Darwinism, everything is accidental. Things may have the appearance of design—but this appearance of design or intentionality arises from random developments.”

McGrath then pretends this is “a minor point,” and criticizes Dawkins’ lack of “evidence,” because he uses words like “maybe” and “might.”

His whole argument turns not on the validity of the underlying evolutionary theory (and if he is going to criticize on the grounds of what is not present, then it would be appropriate to note that nowhere does McGrath say, “My own survey of the biological literature on point reveals no evidence for Dawkins’ assertions”), but on the meaning of the word “accidental” and the use of conditional words like “maybe” and “might.” If McGrath is going to advance a fundamentally linguistic argument, the least he could do is also address the issue of how the complex epistemological problems of knowledge—scientific, theological, or otherwise—should be phrased in books for a popular audience.

Perhaps Dawkins made a misstep in choosing to use the word “accident,” but is it really so bad? What other words but “might” and “maybe” would an honest person trained in the scientific method—where everything is a matter of probability, not certainty&meash;use when talking about something that remains the subject of ongoing research? But McGrath no more provides a better linguistic framework to convey the underlying ideas than he addresses the substance of those ideas. He says he “felt that [he] was being bludgeoned into submission” by Dawkins’ assertions “rather than led along willingly on account of the weight of the evidence,” but despite his self-proclaimed penchant for evidence, he offers none of his own in opposition.

The other portions of the book that I have found as I flip through it (haven’t read the whole thing yet) seem to be about the same. McGrath skates across a difficult issue, throws out some slick rhetorical response that seems on first blush to rebut Dawkins, but on further analysis provides nothing of value. I find that pretty cheesy, considering that one of McGrath’s central contentions about The God Delusion are that Dawkins, uh, skates across difficult issues with slick rhetoric but nothing of value. His assessment of Dawkins may be valid at some points (I would expect that in such a book as The God Delusion, that attempts to tackle such a huge subject, there would almost have to be some points like that), but I don’t think his own responses to Dawkins fare any better.