Are you a rhino or a hedgehog? Some people like to charge headfirst into a situation like a rhino. Others withdraw into a safe ball like a hedgehog. Whilst rhinos and hedgehogs look very different, they both have spikes. So do sceptics.
Yes, some sceptics ask questions because they are curious, earnest, and willing to listen. But others ask questions, get an answer, and then move on to the next question as if that first one didn’t even matter. Sometimes the sceptic is a hedgehog: their spikes are used to keep people at bay. Or you may meet a rhino: a person who comes at you relentlessly to chase you away. In both cases these tricky questions are a defence.
Because of the diversity and obscurity of these spiky questions, well-meaning Christians often listen patiently to the question, then send a group message to their brains trust; internet search to flesh out their answer; re-engage the brains trust for advice on how to communicate the answer winsomely; then return to the sceptic ready to deliver their answer which they’ve laboured over for a week. They eagerly expect a reality-shattering moment. But sadly the sceptic doesn’t seem to care, or has forgotten the significance of the question. And without fail there is another spiky question. Better send that group message to the brains trust again.
The tireless task of answering obscure questions is difficult to do well. It means we need to be well-versed on a whole range of topics and be able to answer niche questions. It’s exhausting. Is there a better way?
Epistemological Razors: A Philosophical Shortcut
Philosophers have established shortcuts to deal with systems of knowledge. They call them epistemological razors (like a shaving razor). Their function is to shave off unnecessary explanatory information. The most famous of these tools is Occam’s razor: “Entities should not be multiplied unnecessarily”.[1] Or in easier terms: don’t add unnecessary parts to an explanation if a simpler one exists. Using Occam’s razor we can shave off all the unnecessarily complicated solutions.
Sceptics have used epistemological razors to great effect in their dialogue with Christians. Consider Sagan’s standard: extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Or Hitchens’s razor: what can be asserted without evidence can also be dismissed without evidence. Shave. Shave. Shave. The great advantage of an epistemological razor is that it reduces the realm of things you must be an expert on. Rather than respond to a Christian’s arguments, the New Atheists cut down how much they needed to respond to. However, the New Atheists applied this razor in ways that was at times disingenuous. Their fatal error, especially Hitchens, was that they thought the razor was an argument in and of itself. They didn’t realise that it was meant to shave off part of the bad parts of an argument, not trim it down to nothing! Their use of epistemological razors was arrogant and ironically obscurantist.
The Evangelist’s Razor
What can Christians do to have more productive apologetic conversations? We can apply a razor of our own: “If I answered this question, would you become a Christian today?” Most people will say no. But even this simple answer requires them to stop and think. That’s the beauty of this razor. It has a disarming effect. It prompts the sceptic to self-reflect: are their motives pure? Is there any chance they’ll switch sides? Or is this just a sport?
If the sceptic does say no, a gentle follow-up question can be offered: “Why not?” What they say next is important, so the Christian needs to listen carefully. This will be closer to the real reason why they don’t want to follow Jesus. This is where you should actually spend your time. When you use the Evangelist’s razor, you shave off the rhino’s horn or the hedgehog’s spines.
But let’s not make the same mistakes that the New Atheists did. The Christian does not use this razor to end the conversation but to focus it. The question is not posed to win the argument. It’s not framed to condescendingly psychoanalyse. The Christian removes the defensive spikes so they can tenderly address what is troubling the sceptic deep down. It helps us talk as one human to another about what really is bothering them about the claims of Christianity.
This razor does not mean that you shouldn’t learn answers to those spiky questions. But it will require us to believe Paul’s words that our sceptical friend cannot rationally ascend above the state of sinful, perishing humanity (1 Cor 1:18–20). It is unhelpful for us to endlessly entertain the spiky questions of belligerent or disinterested sceptics; it will only fuel further obscure speculation.
Keeping the Conversation on Track
When we use this razor we highlight the end goal of apologetics, the end goal of evangelistic conversations. We want people to become Christian—that’s what matters. The goal is not to receive approval for a logical argument. It’s for the other person to change their allegiance.
You can expect to use the Evangelist’s razor a few times in a single conversation. Hedgehogs have many spines; rhinos may charge several times. You can also expect a lot of nos when you ask the question. That’s the point of a razor, to shave off what doesn’t need to be answered. But as you go on, the answer may well be yes, or even, “No…because I am a Christian now!”
[1] Pedro Domingos, ‘The Role of Occam’s Razor in Knowledge Discovery’, Data Mining and Knowledge Discovery 3 (1999): 409; John McFadden, Life is Simple: How Occam’s Razor Set Science Free and Unlocked the Universe (London: John Murray, 2021), xi-xii. Ockham was a Christian, although he didn’t posit his razor for theological or apologetic debates. He was committed to the pursuit of pure reason but believed God’s word was self-authenticating. In Commentary on the Sentences of Peter Lombard, Ockham claimed “nothing ought to be posited without a reason given, unless it is self-evident (literally, known through itself) or known by experience or proved by the authority of Sacred Scripture” (Sent. I, dist.30, q.1).
