Do	religious	"beliefs"	respond	to	evidence? [forthcoming	in	Philosophical	Explorations] Neil	Van	Leeuwen Georgia	State	University University	of	Johannesburg Abstract:	Some	examples	suggest	that	religious	credences	(or	"beliefs") respond	to	evidence.	Other	examples	suggest	they	are	wildly	unresponsive. So	the	examples	taken	together	suggest	there	is	a	puzzle	about	whether descriptive	religious	attitudes	respond	to	evidence	or	not.	I	argue	for	a solution	to	this	puzzle	according	to	which	religious	credences	are characteristically	not	responsive	to	evidence;	that	is,	they	do	not	tend	to	be extinguished	by	evidence	contrary	to	them.	And	when	they	appear	to	be responsive,	it	is	because	the	agents	with	those	credences	are	playing	what	I call	The	Evidence	Game,	which	in	fundamental	ways	resembles	the	games	of make-believe	described	by	Kendall	Walton's	(1990)	theory	of	make-believe. 1	Introduction:	Evidence	and	Attitudes Are	religious	attitudes	responsive	to	evidence?	I	mean	this	as	a	question	of psychological	fact:	if	people	encounter	evidence	that	suggests	the	contents	of	their religious	attitudes	aren't	true,	are	they	inclined	to	discard	those	attitudes? My	concern,	specifically,	is	with	religious	"beliefs,"	especially	ones	that	have descriptive	contents.	A	"belief"	that	God	heals	people	who	pray	has	descriptive content;	a	"belief"	that	one	must	not	eat	shellfish	doesn't	(those	contents	are normative).	Religious	"beliefs"	with	descriptive	contents	are	the	ones	for	which	the question	of	responsiveness	to	evidence	is	most	interesting,	since	those	are	the	ones with	contents	on	which	evidence	can	obviously	bear. So	our	question	comes	to	this:	are	religious	"beliefs"	with	descriptive contents	responsive	to	evidence,	as	a	matter	of	psychological	fact? I	put	"beliefs"	in	scare	quotes	because	there	is	a	kind	of	cognitive	attitude	I call	religious	credence	that	is	distinct	from	factual	belief,	and	uncritical	use	of	the word	"belief"	obscures	this	distinction,	as	I	argue	in	previous	work	(2014a). Religious	credences	(of	the	sort	I	focus	on)	have	descriptive	contents,	but	I	maintain they	differ	from	factual	beliefs	in	the	following	ways: (i) they	turn	on	and	off	for	purposes	of	guiding	action,	depending	on	whether one	is	in	a	religious	or	identity-testing	situation	(this	is	practical	setting dependence); (ii) they	don't	govern	inferences	in	the	default,	widespread	way	factual	beliefs do	(they	lack	widespread	cognitive	governance);	and (iii) they	don't	tend	to	get	extinguished	by	contrary	evidence	in	the	way	factual beliefs	do	(they	lack	evidential	vulnerability).	[This	is	the	issue	at	hand.] 2 In	addition,	religious	credences	have	further	striking	properties	of	their	own:	(a) they	give	perceived	normative	orientation	in	life	(though	their	contents	aren't normative,	religious	agents	take	themselves	to	be	doing	good	in	virtue	of	acting	on them1);	(b)	they	are	susceptible	to	creative	elaboration	that	generates	new credences;	and	(c)	they	are	vulnerable	to	special	authority:	certain	individuals- priests,	shamans,	gurus-are	empowered	to	dictate	their	contents. Hence,	this	paper	is	part	of	a	larger	project.	I	aim	to	determine	whether	it's worth	including	lack	of	evidential	vulnerability	(feature	(iii))	in	the	characterization of	religious	credence,	assuming	it's	worth	carving	out	that	category	at	all.	In	other words,	do	religious	mental	states-ones	that	by	hypothesis	fit	descriptions	(i),	(ii), (a),	(b),	and	(c)-also	fit	(iii)?	That	is,	do	they	lack	evidential	vulnerability? My	thesis	is	this: The	Evidence	Game	Thesis:	religious	credences	are	not	evidentially vulnerable,	and	their	appearance	of	evidential	responsiveness	is typically	due	to	an	agent's	deployment	of	internal	and	external religious	props	(r-props),	which	function	in	religious	enactments, including	what	I	call	The	Evidence	Game,	in	ways	that	parallel	how props	function	in	games	of	make-believe.2 My	view,	in	short,	is	that	when	religious	actors	say	things	that	make	it	sound like	their	credences	respond	to	evidence,	they	are	typically-consciously	or	not- engaged	in	a	game	that	resembles	make-believe	play	and	deploys	largely	the	same psychological	mechanisms.	This	view	unifies	apparently	evidence-tracking	religious behavior	with	overtly	prop-oriented	ritual,	such	as	praying	before	a	statue	or wearing	a	mask	to	represent	an	ancestor.	Overtly	prop-oriented	ritual	clearly deploys	many	of	the	cognitive	resources	of	make-believe	play;	on	my	view,	though it's	less	obvious,	apparently	evidence-tracking	religious	behavior	deploys	these resources	too. In	section	2,	I	argue	there	is	a	puzzle	to	be	solved,	since	examples	that concern	whether	religious	credences	respond	to	evidence	seem	to	point	in	two opposed	directions.	In	section	3,	I	present	a	theory	designed	to	solve	this	puzzle	in	a way	that	coheres	both	with	the	examples	and	with	other	plausible	views	about relevant	portions	of	human	psychology.	Section	4	addresses	a	potential	objection. And	section	5	concludes	by	considering	why,	on	my	view,	individuals	inclined toward	science	might	also	be	inclined	to	abandon	religious	credence. 1	This	is	similar	to	an	idea	from	J.	David	Velleman.	Velleman's	"The	Guise	of	the	Good"	(2000:	ch.	5) makes	the	point	that	some	attitudes	have	a	"faciendum"	(to	be	done)	attitude	valence,	without	having representational	constituents	such	as	good	or	valuable.	So	there	are	two	ways	an	attitude	can	give normative	guidance:	through	attitude	valence	or	through	content.	I	focus	on	valence. 2	In	explicating	this	thesis,	I	appeal	to	Kendall	Walton's	(1990)	theory	of	make-believe.	Most	of	what	I say,	however,	could	be	re-formulated	using	other	theories	of	make-believe	play,	since	the	features	of make-believe	play	I	appeal	to	are	basic	and	highly	general. 3 2	The	Puzzle	of	Evidence	Responsiveness Some	religious	behaviors	suggest	that	religious	credences	respond	to evidence.	Others	suggest	the	contrary.	So	our	puzzle	is	to	make	sense	of	these perplexing	data,	a	fragment	of	which	I	now	review. 2.1	Behaviors	that	Tell	in	Favor	of	Evidence	Responsiveness Saying	a	mental	state	responds	to	evidence	means,	roughly,	that	evidence relevant	to	its	content	can	influence	whether	or	not	that	state	persists	in	an	agent's mind.	I	sharpen	this	rough	characterization	below.	But	it's	fair	to	say	that	on	any psychologically	realistic	formulation	of	evidence	responsiveness,	it's	not	required that	evidentially	responsive	mental	states	always	respond	properly	to	evidence; often	they	will	respond	inefficiently	or	even	to	poor	evidence.	With	this	qualification in	mind,	consider	these	familiar	phenomena. Intelligent	design	arguments	maintain	that	positing	an	intelligent	designer	(a divinity)	is	needed	to	explain	the	appearance	of	design	in	nature.	Such	arguments falter	post	Darwin,	since	evolutionary	processes	explain	such	appearances	far	better than	the	purported	intelligent	designer.3	But	the	religious	credence	that	an intelligent	designer	exists	seems	to	respond	to	perceptions	of	the	biological	world- in	all	its	functional	glory-as	evidence.	So	we	might	conclude	that	religious	credence that	there	is	an	intelligent	designer	responds	to	evidence	to	some	extent. Apologists	often	urge	that	their	religious	texts	are	historical	documents	or even	"eye-witness	accounts."	Christian	apologists,	for	example,	often	claim	that	the resurrection	is	supported	by	historical	evidence,	namely,	the	Gospels.	So	even	if	no religious	texts	are	in	fact	historically	accurate	(or	if	all	their	supernatural	portions are	unhistorical),	the	fact	that	apologists	seem	to	care	about	their	historical	status suggests	that	credences	based	on	them	might	respond	to	evidence	in	some	way. Systematic	theology	in	various	traditions	(Christian,	Jewish,	Hindu,	Muslim) attempts	to	make	theistic	doctrines	cohere	with	one	another,	as	well	as	with observations	of	nature	and	canonical	texts.	The	credences	that	issue	from systematic	theology	therefore	seem	somewhat	responsive	to	evidence	in	virtue	of these	demands	for	coherence	and	consistency	with	texts	and	natural	data. People	often	talk	as	if	unlikely	fortunes	are	evidence	for	their	religious credences.	If	a	person	prays	in	a	tiny	boat	in	a	deadly	storm	and	lives,	she	might claim	that	such	unlikely	fortune	shows	that	her	god	is	real.	Skeptics	respond	that this	test	is	biased,	because	its	disconfirming	instances	drown.	Nevertheless,	biased appeal	to	evidence	may	be	responsiveness	in	some	weak	sense,	so	appeal	to	unlikely fortunes	may	suggest	that	some	religious	credences	respond	to	evidence. On	the	other	hand,	some	rejections	of	religious	credences	also	suggest	that they	respond	to	evidence.	Some	people	claim	that	encounter	with	science	caused them	to	lose	religious	faith.	Religious	credences	are	the	descriptive	cognitive attitudes	in	the	psychological	cluster	constituting	faith;	if	they	were	not	responsive to	evidence,	the	claim	that	science	caused	one	to	lose	faith	would	seem	to	make	little 3	And	Ockham's	Razor	then	cuts	the	non-explanatory	intelligent	designer	from	our	ontology. 4 sense.	Otherwise	put,	one	might	argue	that	religious	credences	are	responsive	to evidence4,	and	that's	why	science	can	destroy	them. Moreover,	religious	actors	often	avoid	evidence	that	seems	like	it	could disconfirm	their	credences.	Such	avoidance	might	suggest	(ironically)	that	religious credences	respond	to	evidence	after	all.	Why	avoid	that	which	wouldn't	have	an effect	anyway?	Intercessory	prayer	seems	to	illustrate	such	avoidance.	Justin	Barrett (2001)	presents	four	studies	that	suggest	people	are	more	likely	to	pray	for	divine interventions	that	involve	psychological	or	biological	changes	than	for	interventions that	involve	mechanical	changes;	in	other	words,	they	are	more	likely	to	pray	for God	to	change	someone's	mind	than	for	God	to	plug	a	leak	in	a	boat.	Barrett's	Study 4	is	instructive;	of	seventy	participants,	only	two	reported	on	a	questionnaire	that they	would	pray	for	a	divine	intervention	that	would	violate	physical	regularities (by	way	of	contrast,	fifty-seven	and	forty-nine	said	they	would	pray	for psychological	and	biological	interventions,	respectively).	One	explanation	for	such data	(but	not	the	only	one5)	is	that	people	are	avoiding	creating	situations	that would	produce	counterevidence	to	their	credences	about	God	(e.g.,	credences	with contents	like	that	God	is	omnipotent,	that	God	answers	prayers,	etc.).	That	avoidance suggests	(again,	ironically)	that	credences	would	respond	to	counterevidence,	if	it were	encountered. These	phenomena	and	many	like	them	suggest	(or	seem	to	suggest)	that religious	credences	respond	to	evidence,	though	perhaps	badly.	So	should	we	then conclude	that	religious	credences	are	no	different	in	this	regard	from	factual	beliefs, which	also	respond	to	evidence,	but	often	only	badly? 2.2	Behaviors	that	Tell	Against	Evidence	Responsiveness We	shouldn't	leap	to	that	conclusion. The	bulk	of	factual	beliefs	in	fact respond	to	evidence	so	well	(not	perfectly)	that	their	responsiveness	doesn't	even get	noticed.	Irrational	processes	stand	out	because	they're	exceptions	to	an	overall pattern	of	rationality,	as	Donald	Davidson	points	out.6	Consider	mundane	factual beliefs	about	appointment	times,	train	schedules,	station	locations,	bank	balances, inventory	levels,	items	in	the	fridge,	ingredients,	prices	at	the	store,	the	level	of	gas in	your	tank,	travel	routes,	whether	a	lamp	works,	how	tall	people	are,	how	many kids	your	colleague	has,	whether	he	owns	a	cat,	etc.	Beliefs	about	these	everyday topics	err	frequently	enough,	but	they	update	so	easily	that	we	don't	even	notice	the updating.	Evidence	easily	fixes	them.	Looking	at	a	train	schedule,	reading	a	bank statement,	studying	an	ingredients	list,	noticing	the	gas	gauge,	or	hearing	your colleague	talk	about	his	cat-any	of	these	evidential	experiences	updates	your relevant	factual	beliefs	so	swiftly	that	you	scarcely	notice.7	In	contrast,	even	the 4	cf.	Maarten	Boudry	and	Jerry	Coyne	(2016a,	2016b);	see	my	2016	for	my	response. 5	Maarten	Boudry	and	Johan	De	Smedt	(2011)	argue	that	people's	failure	to	pray	for	what	is physically	impossible	can	be	explained	by	processes	of	cultural	selection.	There	may	be	something	to this	explanation,	but	its	correctness	needn't	concern	us	at	this	point,	since	all	we	are	doing	is highlighting	how	certain	appearances	generate	a	puzzle	to	be	solved. 6	Donald	Davidson	(1984)	is,	in	my	opinion,	his	best	development	of	this	view. 7	For	studies	that	show	how	good	young	children	are	already	at	updating	beliefs,	see	Melissa	Koenig and	Paul	Harris	(2005)	and	Renée	Baillargeon	(2002).	The	first	study	addresses	how	children	figure 5 apparently	evidence-responsive	credences	just	discussed	don't	update	well	at	all. Furthermore,	plenty	of	religious	credences	don't	even	seem	to	respond	to	evidence. Doomsday	cults	can	continue	even	after	their	prophesied	dates	for	the	end	of the	world	have	passed	(Festinger	et	al.	1956;	Boyer	2001:	302).	This	alone	should baffle	anyone	who	insists	that	religious	"beliefs"	are	just	like	factual	beliefs	but	with different	contents.8	The	lack	of	evidential	responsiveness	on	the	part	of	doomsday credences	is	astonishing.9 Young	earth	creationism	is	also	often	impervious.	No	amount	of	rock	strata, dinosaur	fossils,	carbon	dating,	plate	tectonic	patterns,	or	astronomical	evidence	can shake	the	religious	credence,	common	among	fundamentalist	Baptists,	that	the world	began	less	than	10,000	years	ago.10	It's	true	that	the	contents	of	such credences	aren't	as	exposed	to	direct	disconfirmation	as,	say,	the	content	of	the factual	belief	that	my	lamp	still	works.	But	the	evidence	for	the	age	of	the	earth	is easily	strong	enough-and	well	enough	known-to	strongly	suggest	that	the religious	credences	of	young	earth	creationists	just	do	not	respond	to	evidence. Relatedly,	evolution	denial	usually	stems	from	a	religious	credence	that evolution	has	not	occurred;	it	is	also	often	impervious	to	evidence.	Viruses	and bacteria	evolve	in	our	own	bodies,	yet	many	people	who	know	this	(under	a different	description)	deny	there	is	evolution.	And	viral	and	bacterial	change	due	to selection	pressure	is	only	the	tip	of	the	iceberg	of	evidence	for	evolution. Religious	invention	is	often	indifferent	to	evidence	too.	Oliver	Huntington,	of the	Mormon	Church,	furnishes	this	example	in	his	journal,	reporting	some	lesserknown	credences	of	church	founder	Joseph	Smith,	who	held: The	inhabitants	of	the	moon	are	more	of	a	uniform	size	than	the	inhabitants	of	the earth,	being	about	6	feet	in	height.	They	dress	very	much	like	the	Quaker	style	and are	quite	general	in	style	or	the	one	fashion	of	dress.	They	live	to	be	very	old; coming	generally,	near	a	thousand	years. This	level	of	inventive	detail	is	impressive.	One	might	argue	that	there	is	evidence for	alien	life.	But	it	makes	no	sense	to	argue	that	that	purported	evidence	in	any	way supports	six-foot,	Quaker-clothed,	thousand-year-old	moon	inhabitants. The	credences	just	canvassed	are	a	sample	of	what	could	be	a	compendium of	evidence-unresponsive	credences.	Importantly,	these	credences	aren't out	what	sources	are	reliable,	and	the	second,	which	is	a	survey	of	a	well-developed	research program,	is	about	how	children	learn	object	statics. 8	That	is,	it	should	baffle	people	like	Sam	Harris	et	al.	(2009). 9	One	might	suggest	(and	Referee	1	has	suggested)	that	the	apparent	lack	of	responsiveness	to evidence	on	the	part	of	doomsday	cults'	"beliefs"	can	be	explained	by	the	structures	of	their	belief systems,	which	incorporate	contents	that	immunize	them	as	a	whole	from	refutation.	If	one	thought this,	one	might	also	think	that	individual	religious	credences	are	evidence	responsive,	even	if	they	are embedded	in	a	system	whose	contents	prevent	them	from	being	refuted	by	evidence.	I	agree	with	the suggestion	that	such	ideologies	have	self-immunizing	contents,	but	I	hold	that	self-immunizing contents	add	to	the	evidential	invulnerability	of	religious	credences	as	an	attitudes	type,	rather	than providing	an	alternate	explanation.	I	expand	on	this	point	in	section	4. 10	We	of	course	need	an	answer	to	the	question	of	what	people	are	doing	when	they	claim	to reinterpret	such	evidence	so	as	to	appear	to	support	their	creationism;	my	theory	below	offers	an answer. 6 unresponsive	to	evidence	just	because	their	contents	are	vague.	Many	of	their contents	are	clear	enough	that	evidence	could	bear	on	them.	So	it	appears	to	be something	about	the	attitude	itself	that	is	unresponsive.11 2.3	Theoretical	Options Some	religious	credences	seem	to	respond	to	evidence	and	some	don't.	So	do religious	credences	respond	to	evidence	or	not?	How	should	we	solve	this	puzzle?	I see	three	strategies. First,	we	might	say	religious	credences	do	respond	to	evidence	and	attempt to	explain	away	the	apparent	unresponsiveness	in	the	just-cited	phenomena	as	due to	overriding	factors,	such	as	emotions	or	social	pressure.	Alternately,	one	might	say some	features	of	the	contents	of	credence	systems	make	these	attitudes	immune	to evidential	refutation,	even	if	the	attitudes	themselves	are	evidentially	responsive. Second,	we	might	say	that	religious	credences	don't	respond	to	evidence, arguing	that	other	psychological	facts	explain	the	appearance	of	responsiveness	in some	cases. Third,	we	might	divide	and	conquer,	maintaining	that	some	religious credences	respond	to	evidence	and	some	don't. I	find	the	first	strategy	is	unpromising:	the	examples	of	unresponsiveness	are too	striking	for	us	to	maintain	that	religious	credences	generally	respond	to evidence.	Furthermore,	I	explain	in	section	4	why	I	think	a	"content	only"	approach to	explaining	evidential	unresponsiveness	is	unlikely	to	work.	So	my	approach combines	the	second	and	third	strategies,	leaning	more	on	the	second. My	nod	to	the	third	strategy	("divide	and	conquer")	is	this.	Though	the	vast majority	of	religious	credences	are	not	evidentially	vulnerable	(a	notion	I	explain below),	some	of	them	might	be.	The	reason	for	this	is	that	the	properties	that characterize	religious	credence	define	a	region	in	a	multi-dimensional	property space;	religious	credences	form	a	cluster	in	this	region.	It	is	possible,	however,	that some	attitudes	with	most	features	of	religious	credence	stray	from	the	cluster	with respect	to	one	or	two	of	the	properties.	In	one	kind	of	case,	a	rare	credence	might	in fact	respond	to	evidence.	Call	an	attitude	like	this	a	religious#credence.	It	is perfectly	normal	for	clusters	in	multi-dimensional	spaces	to	have	fuzzy	edges,	even if	there	are	reasons	why	the	cluster	as	a	whole	hangs	together	and	forms	an attractor	position	(Sperber	1996;	McCauley	and	Lawson	2002). Still,	most	examples	of	apparent	responsiveness	to	evidence	on	the	part	of religious	credences	are	suspicious.	They	seem	like	opportunistic	justifications	for clinging	to	what	one	was	going	to	cling	to	anyway.	Furthermore,	genuine responsiveness	to	evidence	would	undermine	some	other	cultural	functions religious	credences	characteristically	have.	For	example,	the	evidential	immobility of	credences	makes	them	good	indicators	of	allegiance	to	a	religious	in-group: 11	Boudry	and	Coyne	(2016a)	suggest	that	many	of	the	unusual	properties	of	religious	"beliefs"	can be	explained	by	appealing	to	their	vague,	semi-propositional	contents.	Religious	beliefs	are	different from	factual	beliefs,	on	this	view,	not	because	the	attitude	is	different,	but	because	the	contents	are wishy-washy.	My	point	here	is	that	that	strategy	can't	always	work	for	explaining	the	differences, especially	when	it	comes	to	pervasive	unresponsiveness	to	evidence. 7 people	with	attitudes	that	defy	evidence	behave	in	striking	ways	that	clearly	mark their	commitment	to	the	group	(Sosis	and	Alcorta	2003;	Norenzayan	2013:	ch.	7). Otherwise	put,	if	my	credence	that	our	god	exists	can	be	banished	by	something	so trifling	as	mere	evidence,	how	can	you	be	sure	that	I'm	really	committed	to	our group,	which	defines	itself	by	allegiance	to	our	god?	Taking	this	point	into	account, we	should	expect	religious	credences	mostly	not	to	respond	to	evidence. Accordingly,	apparent	responsiveness	mostly	isn't	genuine,	which	is	why	I	lean more	on	the	second	strategy.	(These	considerations	also	explain	why	so	many religious	credences	might	be	regarded	as	"useful	false	beliefs,"	though	"useful"	and "beliefs"	need	to	be	qualified:	many	religious	credences	with	false	contents	persist precisely	because	they	don't	respond	to	evidence;	they	are	nevertheless	useful	for purposes	of	maintaining	a	committed	in-group;	and	they	are	"beliefs"	only	under one	disambiguation	of	the	word	"belief"-"belief"	is	often	just	used	in	everyday speech	to	refer	to	religious	credence,	as	opposed	to	factual	belief12.) Let's	now	sharpen	the	intuitive	notion	of	evidence	responsiveness.	Doing	this will	allow	us	to	say	precisely	what	religious	credences	lack.	Then	we	can	say	how some	credences	manage	to	seem	responsive	to	evidence,	even	when	they	are	not. I	define	evidential	vulnerability	recursively. i. If	cognitive	attitude	x	is	involuntarily	prone	to	being	extinguished	if (a)	it	conflicts	with	perceptual	states	or	if	(b)	it	is	realized	to	lead	to	a contradiction,	then	x	is	evidentially	vulnerable. ii. If	cognitive	attitude	x	is	involuntarily	prone	to	being	extinguished	if	it contradicts	or	does	not	cohere	with	other	evidentially	vulnerable states,	then	x	is	evidentially	vulnerable. iii. No	other	cognitive	attitudes	are	evidentially	vulnerable.13 Note	this	definition	is	about	how	evidence	extinguishes	attitudes,	not	about	how	it helps	form	them.	I	construct	the	definition	this	way	because	almost	any	cognitive attitude	can	be	caused	by	evidence	in	its	favor:	hypotheses,	assumptions	for	the	sake of	argument,	and	even	fictional	imaginings	can	arise	from	cognitions	that	would	in some	way	support	their	contents.14	Furthermore,	I	include	the	term	"involuntarily," because	several	cognitive	attitudes	that	are	not	factual	beliefs,	such	as	hypotheses, do	tend	to	get	extinguished	by	contrary	evidence,	though	the	extinction	is	by	choice. Only	factual	beliefs	involuntarily	get	extinguished	by	countervailing	evidence.	For example,	seeing	that	the	water	cooler	is	empty-poof!-extinguishes	your	factual 12	Heiphetz,	Landers,	and	Van	Leeuwen	(manuscript)	present	empirical	evidence	that	in	ordinary American	English	"believes"	is	used	more	for	religious	credences,	while	"thinks"	is	used	more	for factual	beliefs.	If	this	is	so,	then	at	least	one	language	seems	to	track	a	distinction	that	many philosophers	and	cognitive	scientists	fail	to	make. 13	This	is	the	same	definition	as	in	my	2014a.	A	more	full	characterization	of	evidential	vulnerability would	be	structured	so	as	to	rule	out	deviant	causal	chains,	but	doing	this	is	unnecessary	for	my present	purpose,	which	is	to	distinguish	cognitive	attitudes,	rather	than	give	a	complete	and	final theory	of	evidential	vulnerability. 14	For	example,	seeing	someone	dance	well	at	a	party	can	cause	you	to	fictionally	imagine	he	is	a professional	dancer. 8 belief	that	it	was	full;	you	couldn't	maintain	that	factual	belief	if	you	wanted	to	(you could	only	pretend	to,	which	is	not	the	same	thing).	So	defining	evidential vulnerability	in	this	fashion	carves	a	natural	joint	in	the	class	of	cognitive	attitudes: factual	beliefs	are	distinctive	in	that	you	can't	hang	on	to	them	in	the	face	of	strong counterevidence,	even	if	you	try.15 Even	the	main	examples	of	religious	credence	from	2.1	don't	appear	to	be evidentially	vulnerable.	Intelligent	design	arguments,	claims	of	historicity,	and appeals	to	unlikely	fortunes	all	involve	religious	credences	that	show	little	or	no tendency	to	be	extinguished	by	contrary	evidence.	Systematic	theology's	credences are	trickier,	because	they	seem	to	show	evidential	vulnerability	to	canonical	texts. But	if	the	religious	credence	that	the	canonical	texts	are	divine	is	itself	not evidentially	vulnerable,	then	the	appearance	of	evidential	vulnerability	on	the	part of	other	religious	credences	in	systematic	theology	is	just	an	appearance	(more	on canonical	texts	below). What	I	owe	now	is	an	explanation	of	why	many	religious	credences	appear	to be	evidentially	responsive,	even	though	they	are	not	in	the	relevant	sense.	I	now develop	such	a	theory	by	reshaping	Walton's	(1990)	theory	of	prop-based	makebelieve.	I	apply	the	reshaped	theory	to	what	I	call	games	of	religious	enactment, which	include	rituals	in	which	props	(or	r-props)	stand	in	for	entities	in	a	religion's ontology,	like	deities	or	ancestors.	Rituals	are	of	course	one	form	of	religious enactment.	But	The	Evidence	Game,	in	which	people	claim	evidence	for	their religious	credences,	is	another,	and	it	also	uses	r-props. 3	R-Props	and	Make-Believe Consider	sacrificial	religious	rituals.	The	animal	sacrifice	is	supposed	to	be for	the	gods,	ancestors,	or	whatever	supernatural	agents	desire	the	meat.	But	almost invariably,	the	people	who	do	the	sacrificing	eat	the	meat	themselves.	People	give various	rationalizations	for	this,	such	as	that	the	gods	share	meat	that	is	rightfully theirs.	But	the	make-believe	character	of	sacrificial	rituals	is	unmistakable.16	People eating	meat	that	the	gods	supposedly	wanted	resemble	children	who	pretend	their dolls	want	cookies	and	then,	after	pretending	to	feed	the	dolls	the	cookies,	eat	the cookies	themselves.	In	the	latter	case,	cookies	are	props	in	a	game	of	make-believe, in	which	imagined	agents	eat	their	desired	cookies.	In	the	former	case,	the	roasted meat	is	an	r-prop	(religious	prop)	in	a	game	of	religious	enactment,	in	which	a creeded17	supernatural	agent	receives	her	desired	meat.	In	both	cases,	given	certain rules	of	the	games,	there	are	mappings	from	props	(or	r-props)	to	imagined	(or creeded)	propositions.	So	there	is	a	semi-objective	character	to	game-based imaginings	and	enactment-based	credences:	facts	about	the	world	partly	determine 15	Thus,	the	property	that	I	define,	evidential	vulnerability,	combines	the	kind	of	involuntarism	about belief	that	Bernard	Williams	(1973)	made	famous	with	a	version	of	the	evidentialism	that	we	see	in more	recent	literature	on	belief. 16	See	Pascal	Boyer	(2001:	242	ff.)	for	interesting	discussion	of	this	issue. 17	For	brevity,	I	sometimes	use	the	archaic	verb	"to	creed"	with	the	specific	meaning	to	have	a religious	credence.	The	phrase	"creeded	supernatural	agent"	thus	means	supernatural	agent	that someone	has	religious	credences	about. 9 what	is	imagined	or	creeded-by	way	of	props	or	r-props-but	invented	rules	of	the game	do	the	rest. This	section	develops	this	view,	deploying	Walton's	notion	of	prop.	How	does doing	this	support	the	aims	of	this	paper?	Developing	a	general	picture	of	how	rprops	work	in	religious	practice	allows	us	to	say	what	is	going	on	when	religious credences	appear	to	respond	to	evidence.	R-props	are	entities	in	the	world	that, according	to	certain	rules	of	a	game,	dictate	some	religious	credences;	and	some	rprops	control	credences	in	ways	that	resemble	how	evidence	controls	factual beliefs,	without	actually	doing	so	via	evidential	vulnerability;	hence	the	false appearance	that	those	religious	credences	respond	to	evidence. So	this	section	has	three	parts.	In	3.1,	I	explain	Walton's	view	of	makebelieve,	adding	some	observations	of	my	own.	In	3.2,	I	show	how	Walton's framework	translates	to	religious	enactment.	And	in	3.3,	I	apply	this	general approach	to	what	I	call	The	Evidence	Game	and	the	appearance	of	evidential responsiveness,	thus	resolving	the	puzzle	from	section	2. 3.1	How	Make-Believe	Works Let's	take	Walton's	classic	example	(1990:	37-44).	Two	kids	are	playing make-believe,	pretending	that	they	are	in	the	woods	with	bears.	They	declare	that any	tree	stump	counts	as	a	bear.	So	any	time	they	encounter	a	tree	stump,	they	are prescribed	by	the	rules	they	created	to	imagine	it	is	a	bear	and	act	accordingly, whether	by	running,	fighting,	or	whatever.	Furthermore,	if	there	is	a	stump	nearby that	they	do	not	see,	there	is,	by	the	rules	of	the	game,	a	bear	nearby,	even	if	they don't	know	it.	So	even	though	games	of	make-believe	are	made-up,	there	can	be 'facts'	about	what's	fictionally	true	in	a	game	(that	is,	about	what	one	is	supposed	to imagine),	even	though	the	players	themselves	don't	know	all	the	fictional	'facts.' Tree	stumps	in	Walton's	example	are	props.	Props	in	other	games	range	from rocks	to	broomsticks	to	carefully	crafted	toys.	They	can	be	found	or	made.	Intrinsic properties	of	an	object	don't	determine	whether	it	is	a	prop,	though	they	can	be more	or	less	suggestive.	Rather,	being	a	prop	or	not	is	determined	by	whether	one	is playing	make-believe	and	by	what	game	one	is	playing:	certain	games	classify certain	objects	as	props	and	exclude	others.	A	prop	for	one	game	is	an	obstacle	in another.	Prop	classifications	are	to	some	extent	up	to	the	players,	but	often background	conventions	settle	what	is	a	prop	for	what	game.	And	once	one	is playing	make-believe	with	certain	rules,	what	one	imagines	of	a	given	prop	is	not entirely	subjective.	Much	of	what	one	imagines	is	determined	by	facts	about	the prop	itself	in	conjunction	with	what	Walton	calls	"principles	of	generation."	If	there are	two	stumps,	there	are,	given	the	principles	of	generation,	two	bears,	and	that's that.	It's	fair	to	say	also	that,	although	Walton	writes	in	terms	of	principles	of generation,	the	sorts	of	principles	under	discussion	also	function	as	principles	of extinction:	if	one	was	imagining	that	there	was	only	one	bear,	seeing	the	second	tree stump	should	extinguish	that	imagining	to	make	way	for	imagining	that	there	are 'really'	two.	In	what	follows,	I	keep	Walton's	terminology	in	tact,	but	ask	the	reader to	keep	in	mind	that	there	are	two	sides	to	principles	of	generation,	generation	and extinction,	since	this	is	relevant	in	what	follows. 10 Let's	regiment	the	central	notions	needed	for	understanding	make-believe. Doing	this	sets	us	up	for	understanding	religious	enactment.	(The	specific regimentation	below	is	my	own,	but	it	follows	Walton's	theory	closely.) (a) A	game	of	make-believe	is	a	game	in	which	it	is	prescribed	that	one	imagine certain	propositions	according	to	certain	rules,	where	imagining	is	a cognitive	attitude	distinct	from	factual	belief.	(Example:	in	the	bears	game, upon	seeing	a	stump	one	is	supposed	to	imagine	it	is	a	bear;	this	is	a prescription	of	the	game.) (b) The	rules	mentioned	in	(a)	are	principles	of	generation;	they	generate prescribed	imaginings	from	facts	about	props. (c) A	prop	is	an	entity	e	that,	according	to	the	principles	of	generation	of	the game,	prescribes	that	one	imagine	a	proposition	of	the	form	p(e),	which assigns	e	a	certain	imagined	value.	(Example:	it	is	prescribed	that	one imagine	of	tree	stumps	[which	are	props]	that	they	are	bears.) (d) A	principle	of	generation	is	thus	a	function	from	facts	about	props	to prescribed	imaginings.	Committed	players	of	the	game	accept	such	functions consciously	or	unconsciously.	Principles	of	generation	have	the	form: pg(fact	about	prop	e)	=	IMAGINE:	p(e). For	example,	in	the	bear	game,	the	main	principle	of	generation	is: pgbear(tree	stump's	presence)	=	IMAGINE:	the	stump	is	a	bear. And	many	subsidiary	principles	flow	naturally	from	the	main	one,	such	as: pgbear'(stump's	being	to	the	left)	=	IMAGINE:	the	bear	is	to	the	left. pgbear''(a	bird's	landing	by	a	stump)	=	IMAGINE:	a	bird	is	by	the	bear.18 This	regimentation	is,	of	course,	highly	schematic;	Walton's	extensive development	is	rich	and	interesting.	But	this	is	already	enough	to	help	clarify	games of	religious	enactment.	A	few	notes	are	needed,	however,	to	understand	what	comes next. First,	though	principles	of	generation	take	facts	as	inputs	and	output prescribed	imaginings,	their	psychological	instantiation	takes	factual	beliefs	as inputs.	For	example,	one	factually	believes	there	are	two	stumps	in	the	meadow, 18	Two	points	emerge	here.	First,	there	is	an	overarching	spatial	principle	of	generation	that	governs most	games:	the	imagined	entity's	location	maps	to	where	its	prop	is	(modulo	transformations	of distance,	etc.).	Second,	a	frequently	used	principle	of	generation	is	the	identity	map,	according	to which	one	just	imagines	entities	as	being	what	they	are,	like	the	bird	who	is	a	prop	for	an	imagined bird. 11 which	causes	one	to	imagine	there	are	two	bears.	Without	this	factual	belief,	it would	still	be	a	fictional	'truth'	that	there	are	two	bears	in	the	meadow,	but	the player	wouldn't	know	to	imagine	it.	It	would	remain	to	be	'discovered.'	Thus,	even though	make-believe	games	are	in	some	sense	made	up,	many	of	a	game's constituent	events	will	feel	like	discoveries	to	the	players.	Otherwise	put,	players need	factual	beliefs	about	the	props	in	order	for	them	to	come	to	have	the	proper imaginings	in	the	game;	and	this	is	one	of	several	ways	in	which	factual	beliefs	are fundamental	relative	to	other	cognitive	attitudes.19 Second,	humans	are	so	good	at	make-believe	play	that	most	of	the psychological	structure	that	supports	it	goes	unnoticed.	One	isn't	conscious	of	one's many	subsidiary	principles	of	generation	for	any	game	of	make-believe;	one	just	has them	and	imagines	accordingly,	especially	when	absorbed.	One	might	even	engage in	make-believe	without	realizing	that	is	what	one	is	doing,	such	as	when	one	adopts a	certain	artificial	social	role.	This	lack	of	second-order	self-knowledge	about	what one	is	doing	is	perhaps	a	rarity	in	ordinary	games	of	make-believe	play,	but	I	think	it is	entirely	common	and	perhaps	the	rule	in	The	Evidence	Game. Third,	this	all	shows	that	there	are	psychological	mechanisms	that	make imaginings	partly	constrained	by	facts	about	the	outside	world-facts	about	the props-and	partly	constrained	by	chosen	principles	of	generation,	many	of	which are	made	up	on	the	fly.	This	is	the	above-mentioned	semi-objective	character	of make-believe	imaginings.	Imaginings	in	make-believe	play	are	thus	two-faced, looking	partly	at	the	world-both	for	generation	and	extinction-and	partly	in	the player	herself. Fourth	(note	well!),	games	of	make-believe	generate	an	implicit	exclusion class	of	items	that	are	not	props	in	the	game.	(Precisely:	the	exclusion	class	of	a	game of	make-believe	is	the	class	of	items	in	the	world	that	are	not	in	the	domain	of	the functions	that	constitute	the	game's	principles	of	generation.)	If	we're	in	the	kitchen playing	Knights	of	the	Round	Table,	for	example,	the	round	kitchen	table	is obviously	going	to	be	a	prop.	But	the	electrical	coffee	maker	isn't,	so	it's	in	the exclusion	class.	One	could,	of	course,	contrive	a	way	to	make	Mr.	Coffee	part	of	the game,	but	this	would	involve	ignoring	its	parts	and	adding	awkward	principles	of generation	on	the	fly.	Most	likely	the	coffee	maker	will	be	ignored,	lying	in	the exclusion	class.	This	leads	to	another	observation.	Games	of	make-believe	have powerful	effects	on	attention.	One	attends	to	the	items	in	the	world	that	are	props for	one's	game	(stumps,	round	tables,	dolls,	etc.)	and	tends	to	ignore	items	in	the exclusion	class.20 19	In	other	papers	(2009,	2014a,	2014b),	I	discuss	other	ways	factual	beliefs	are	fundamental. 20	Another	point	about	attention	and	imagination	is	relevant.	Tyler	Doggett	and	Shen-yi	Liao	(2014) argue	that	attention	explains	the	phenomenon	of	imaginative	immersion,	such	as	when	people	are	so immersed	in	the	game	they're	playing	that	they	seem	to	forget	reality.	On	their	view,	we	are immersed	when	we	overwhelmingly	attend	to	that	which	we	imagine.	This	view	importantly,	helps us	resist	the	claim,	advanced	by	Susanna	Schellenberg	(2013),	that	immersion	involves	loss	of	a distinction	between	what	is	(factually)	believed	and	what	is	imagined.	The	analogous	point,	applied to	religious	immersion,	can	help	us	resist	the	claim	that	religious	immersion	involves	loss	of	a distinction	between	what	is	religiously	creeded	and	what	is	factually	believed. 12 3.2	The	R-Prop	View:	Religious	Enactment Not	every	religious	ritual	has	a	make-believe	character.	Meditation,	for example,	is	just	meditation.	So	let's	reserve	the	term	religious	enactment	for religious	rituals	and	practices	that	do	have	a	make-believe	character.	Let's	review some	examples. Anthropologist	Tanya	Luhrmann	(2012)	describes	prayer	practices	of members	of	the	Vineyard	Christian	Fellowship	in	Chicago,	IL.	When	praying,	if	all goes	well,	they	'hear'	God	talking.	I	write	'hear'	in	single	quotes,	because	Vineyard members	mostly	just	have	auditory	mental	imagery	of	God	talking,	not	genuine perceptual	experiences	or	hallucinations.	But	having	auditory	imagery	of	the	right sort	is	still	not	easy	(Boyer	2013).	Rituals	help.	To	achieve	the	desired	experiences, many	engage	in	overt	pretend	play,	as	advised	by	their	pastors.	Vineyard	members often	"walk	and	talk"	with	God	or	have	God	over	for	dinner	or	breakfast.	People	set an	extra	place	for	God	at	the	table	or	pour	Him	a	cup	of	coffee	(Luhrmann,	74). Vineyard	members	use	pretend	play	so	much	in	attempting	to	learn	to	'hear'	God that	Luhrmann's	third	chapter	is	simply	called	"Let's	Pretend."	She	writes: I	only	knew	one	person	in	the	Chicago	Vineyard	who	really	poured	that	second	cup of	coffee.	But	I	knew	people	who	talked	about	setting	an	extra	dinner	plate	for	God or	pulling	out	a	chair	for	him	to	sit	on	while	they	poured	out	their	troubles.	When they	said	those	things,	they	often	remarked	that	they	didn't	go	as	far	as	other	people did.	They	were	often	a	little	embarrassed	by	what	they'd	done.	(75) Why	the	embarrassment?	Luhrmann	emphasizes	that	activities	of	Vineyard members	resemble	those	of	children	playing	with	imaginary	friends,	even	though Vineyard	members	studiously	avoid	speaking	of	God	as	"imaginary." Ancient	Egyptian	royal	tombs	invariably	include	paintings	or	reliefs	of servants	and	animals	meant	to	provide	for	the	pharaoh	in	the	afterlife.21	Producing such	paintings	was	generative:	painting	a	person	or	creature	in	the	tomb	generated credence	that	the	corresponding	entity	would	be	in	the	afterlife.	Egypt,	of	course,	is not	the	only	culture	in	which	royal	persons	populated	their	afterlives	using depictive	art.	Qin	Shi	Huang,	the	first	Chinese	emperor,	had	over	8,000	life-sized terracotta	warriors	constructed	to	protect	him	in	the	afterlife	from	spirits	of	the many	people	he	killed.	In	general,	rites	that	entomb	bodies	amidst	such representations	have	a	make-believe	character. Many	people	revere	found	objects	that	resemble	canonical	images	of	the supernatural	agents	they	worship.	Michael	Shermer	(2006)	describes	how	people congregated	and	lit	candles	around	the	rainbow-colored	Virgin	Mary	shape	that appeared	on	the	window	of	an	office	building	in	Clearwater,	FL,	in	1996.	A	naïve construal	of	this	behavior	is	that	the	devout	simply	(factually)	believed	Mary appeared.	But	their	willingness	to	ignore	other,	non-Mary-resembling	rainbow patterns	elsewhere	on	the	windows,	as	well	as	ignoring	that	the	sprinklers	caused the	patterns,	suggests	another	interpretation.	They	were	using	the	pattern	on	the glass	as	a	part	of	a	game	of	religious	enactment	structured	like	make-believe	play. 21	In	many	cases,	actual	servants	and	mummified	animals,	like	cats,	were	entombed	as	well.	But	the number	of	painted	servants	and	creatures	typically	far	outstrips	the	number	of	actual	(dead)	ones. 13 People	from	cultures	that	worship	ancestors,	which	is	common	in	SubSaharan	Africa,	often	sacrifice	animals	to	those	ancestors,	who,	according	to	typical narratives,	desire	the	meat.	But	as	pointed	out,	the	people	sacrificing	usually	eat	the meat	themselves,	which	gives	this	religious	enactment	its	make-believe	character. These	are	just	a	few	examples.	The	coffee	cup	for	God,	the	paintings	in	the tombs,	the	terracotta	warriors,	the	Virgin	Mary	rainbow	apparition,	and	the	roasted sacrificial	meat	are	all	r-props.	R-props	in	games	of	religious	enactment	function	like props	in	games	of	make-believe.	The	difference	is	that,	instead	of	prescribing	the cognitive	attitude	of	imagining,	r-props	prescribe	the	cognitive	attitude	of	religious credence,	according	to	certain	r-principles	of	generation.	But	key	points	of	the	rest	of Walton's	theory	carry	over. (a') A	game	of	religious	enactment	is	a	game	in	which	it	is	prescribed	that	one religiously	creed	certain	propositions	according	to	certain	rules,	where religious	credence	is	a	cognitive	attitude	distinct	from	factual	belief. (Example:	in	the	Virgin	Mary	game,	upon	seeing	the	rainbow	Mary	pattern one	is	supposed	to	creed	that	it	is	Mary;	this	is	a	prescription	of	the	game.) (b') The	rules	mentioned	in	(a')	are	r-principles	of	generation;	they	generate prescribed	religious	credences	from	facts	about	r-props. (c') An	r-prop	is	an	entity	e	that,	according	to	the	r-principles	of	generation	of	a game	of	religious	enactment,	prescribes	that	one	creed	a	proposition	of	the form	p(e),	which	assigns	e	a	certain	creeded	value.	(Example:	it	is	prescribed that	one	creed	of	the	Mary-like	shape	[which	is	an	r-prop]	that	it	is	an	the Virgin	Mary.) (d') An	r-principle	of	generation	is	thus	a	function	from	facts	about	r-props	to prescribed	religious	credences.	Committed	players	of	the	game	accept	such functions	consciously	or	unconsciously.	R-principles	of	generation	have	the following	form: r-pg(fact	about	r-prop	e)	=	CREED:	p(e). For	example,	in	the	Mary	game,	the	main	principle	of	generation	is	a function	of	the	form: r-pgMary(Mary	shape's	presence)	=	CREED:	the	shape	is	Mary. As	in	make-believe,	subsidiary	principles	flow	naturally	from	the	main	one: r-pgMary'(shape's	having	appeared	in	1996)	=	CREED:	Mary	came	in	1996. r-pgMary''(a	bird's	landing	by	the	Mary	shape)	=	CREED:	a	bird	is	by	Mary. The	actual	r-principles	of	generation	will	of	course	be	more	complicated	than this	and	include	various	constraints	on	what	can	count	as	an	r-prop,	and	these 14 constraints	will	be	more	restrictive	than	the	typical	constraints	on	what	can	be	a prop	for	a	game	of	make-believe.	But	it	is	still	fair	to	say	that	the	main	points	of Walton's	theory	translate	surprisingly	well	to	religious	enactment.	Before commenting	on	the	significance	of	this,	let	me	make	a	further	point	inspired	by Luhrmann. R-props	aren't	always	external	physical	objects;	they	can	also	be	internal mental	events.	An	r-prop	can	be	anything	that	figures	into	an	r-principle	of generation,	so	internal	experiential	states	can	be	r-props	too.	And	involuntary internal	states	are	especially	good	candidates	to	be	r-props.	In	many	cultures, dreams	play	the	r-prop	role,	where	rules	for	interpreting	the	dreams	are	rprinciples	of	generation	that	yield	new	credences.	And	dreams	aren't	the	only internal	r-props.	Suppose,	for	example,	a	pre-Spanish	Nahuatl	person,	who	worships the	feathered	snake	god	Quetzacóatl,	is	going	through	the	forest.	Suppose	this person	sees	a	snake-like	figure	through	the	leaves,	just	as	wind	rushes	through	the trees.	This	will	engender	auditory	and	other	experiences	(hearing	wind accompanied	by	an	awesome	fright),	and	these	internal	experiences	can	become	rprops,	to	which	the	person's	r-principles	of	generation	might	assign	the	value hearing	the	voice	of	Quetzacóatl. Luhrmann	highlights	what	I	would	call	internal	r-props	in	her	own	subjects. She	describes	how	Vineyard	members	are	often	"cherry-picking"	mental	events	to fold	into	their	own	narratives	of	a	personal	relationship	with	God. They	learn	to	infuse	the	absent,	invisible	being	with	presence	by	cherry-picking mental	events	out	of	their	own	familiar	experience	and	identifying	them	as	God; they	integrate	those	events	into	the	awareness	of	a	personlike	being	by	using	'let's pretend'	play;	and	then	as	they	shape	their	own	interior	world...they	learn	to	react emotionally	to	that	being,	as	if	that	being	were	alive	in	an	ordinary	way	right	now. (131) If	the	cherry-picked	mental	events	of	Luhrmann's	informants	are	r-props,	as	I	claim, then	what	are	the	corresponding	r-principles	of	generation?	Luhrmann	(63	ff.) characterizes	four	"rules	of	discernment,"	or	tests,	that	Vineyard	members	use	to determine	whether	their	auditory	experiences	are	from	God.	One	asks	oneself:	(1) "whether	what	you	had	heard	or	imagined	was	the	kind	of	thing	you	would	say	or imagine	anyway,"	(2)	"whether	it	was	the	kind	of	thing	that	God	would	say	or imply,"	(3)	"whether	the	revelation	could	be	confirmed	through	circumstances	or other	people's	prayers,"	and	(4)	whether	it	gives	"the	feeling	of	peace."	If	the	answer to	the	first	is	negative	(not	the	sort	of	thing	you	would	imagine	anyway)	and	the answers	to	the	others	are	positive,	then	one	can	regard	an	experience	of	auditory imagery	as	being	the	voice	of	God	(in	my	terms,	one	can	form	a	religious	credence	to this	effect).	Thus,	these	tests	constitute	implicit	r-principles	of	generation	that	take experiences	as	input	and	output	religious	credence.	Importantly,	the	domain	of these	r-principles	of	generation	consists	of	internal	mental	events. The	significance	of	the	fact	that	Walton's	theory	works	so	well	for	religious enactment	is	this:	the	psychological	machinery	that	supports	religious	enactment- unless	there	is	a	strange	and	highly	redundant	duplication	in	the	brain-is	largely the	same	as	the	psychological	machinery	that	supports	pretend	play.	And	there	is 15 much	reason	to	think	that	the	psychological	machinery	that	supports	pretend	play	is innate	and	positioned	to	interface	with	other	psychological	systems,	such	as	action parsing.	Pretense	is	found	across	cultures.	And	virtually	all	children	pretend.22 Furthermore,	pretense	emerges	early,	at	about	a	year	and	a	half,	without instruction.	So	my	view	is	that	the	intricate	and	largely	innate	cluster	of	capacities for	pretend	play,	which	facilitates	the	structure	of	action	detailed	in	(a)-(d)	of section	3.1,	also	supports	the	structure	of	action	detailed	in	(a')-(d')	of	this	section. Let's	now	apply	the	concept	of	semi-objective	character	to	religious enactment.	Importantly,	there	is	often	a	voluntary	step	in	making	something	an	rprop,	and	such	a	step	appears	in	the	examples	of	this	section.	As	one	of	Luhrmann's informants	says:	"I	can	choose	to	believe	this	is	from	God,	or	I	can	think	this	is	just from	me,	and	the	reality	is	that	it	could	be	either,	and	I	know	that.	There	is	always	a choice	to	believe	what	it	is"	(70,	my	emphasis).	Hence,	the	"semi-"	in	"semiobjective":	since	there	is	a	choice,	it's	not	entirely	objective	that	one	ought	to "believe"	as	one	does.	Luhrmann	remarks: At	the	same	time,	it	seemed	to	me	that	those	playing	never	quite	forgot	that	some	of what	they	were	doing	was	self-generated,	as	if	going	for	a	walk	with	God	carried	a memory	trace	of	choosing	to	pretend.	These	'let's	pretend'	practices	did	seem	to make	God	more	real-more	emotionally	compelling	.	.	.	(94) How	can	we	make	sense	of	the	word	"real"	in	this	passage?	How	can	pretending make	something	feel	"real"?	The	answer	is	that,	though	one	chooses	to	pretend	(or	to engage	in	religious	enactment),	once	one	has	selected	the	game,	with	its corresponding	r-props	and	r-principles	of	generation,	it	is	no	longer	entirely	up	to one	what	credences	emerge.	Pretending	and	enacting	both	involve	choosing	to	be constrained	by	certain	(r-)props	and	principles.	And	this	sense	of	constraint-that	it is	not	just	up	to	you-accounts	for	the	feeling	of	something's	being	"real."	And	hence the	"objective"	in	"semi-objective":	facts	in	the	world,	given	that	one	has	decided	to play	the	game,	require	that	one	form	certain	credences;	correspondingly,	if	the relevant	r-props	turn	out	to	be	different	from	what	one	expected,	facts	about	rprops,	given	certain	r-principles,	may	require	that	some	credences	be	extinguished. 3.3	R-Props	and	Apparent	Evidence-Responsiveness Most	religious	enactments	are	rituals,	ceremonies,	prayer	episodes,	burials, etc.	that	help	people	relate	overarching	narratives	of	their	religions	to	their	own personal	narratives.	An	r-prop	can	generate	credences	that	put	one's	personal	life into	a	wider	story.	R-props	allow	one	to	say	(and	creed),	"The	Virgin	Mary	visited me."	Or,	"The	servants	in	the	afterlife	will	serve	me."	But	another	form	of	religious enactment	occurs	less	often,	and	it	only	sometimes	connects	personal	and overarching	narratives.	This	form	of	religious	enactment	arises	in	cultural	contexts in	which	practices	of	giving	arguments	co-exist	with	religious	traditions,	such	that people	are	tempted	for	various	reasons	to	enact	a	game	that	merges	the	two.	I	call 22	People	on	the	autism	spectrum	are	exceptions	to	this	general	rule,	as	Simon	Baron-Cohen	(1995) argues	at	length. 16 this	The	Evidence	Game.	All	the	features	of	religious	enactment	explained	in	the	last section	(points	(a')-(d'))	are	present	in	The	Evidence	Game. The	aim	of	The	Evidence	Game	is	to	produce	a	narrative	that	portrays religious	credences	themselves	as	based	on	evidence.	The	r-props	in	this	game	are events	in	the	world	or	internal	events	that	can	be	construed	as	evidence	for	the contents	of	a	certain	religious	credence.	Just	as	a	stick	might	resemble	a	sword,	a fact	in	the	world	might	resemble	something	that	would	be	evidence	for	the	content of	a	religious	credence.23	The	r-principles	of	generation	in	The	Evidence	Game	are thus	functions	from	evidence-resembling	r-props	to	further	prescribed	religious credences,	where	the	r-props	constitute	apparently	rational	arguments	in	support	of the	contents	of	the	game-initiating	religious	credences	or	(less	often)	against previously	held	credences. Our	examples	from	2.1	can	be	examples	here.	Referring	to	functions	in	the biological	world	as	"evidence"	for	intelligent	design	(even	post	Darwin),	appealing to	religious	texts	as	"historical	evidence,"	treating	the	starting	points	of	systematic theology	as	"evidence"	for	downstream	conclusions,	and	appealing	to	unlikely fortunes	to	"show"	that	a	favorable	god	intervened:	these	behaviors,	in	my	view,	are all	typically	instances	of	The	Evidence	Game.	What	does	this	mean?	It	means	that, regardless	of	whether	the	items	appealed	to	are	actually	evidence,	what	mediates their	portrayal	as	evidence	is	largely	the	same	set	of	psychological	mechanisms	that mediates	use	of	props	in	games	of	make-believe	and	r-props	in	other	games	of religious	enactment.	Those	mechanisms	can	lead	you	to	imagine	a	stump	is	a	bear, and	they	can	lead	you	to	creed	that	an	eagle's	wing	is	evidence	for	intelligent	design. Though	it	may	be	hard	in	practice,	telltale	signs	can	help	us	determine whether	a	given	train	of	argumentative	behavior	is	really	evidence	based	or	is merely	an	instance	of	The	Evidence	Game.	Games	of	make-believe,	recall,	have exclusion	classes:	items	that	don't	work	as	props.	Religious	enactments	in	general and	The	Evidence	Game	in	particular	thus	also	have	exclusion	classes.	The	exclusion class	for	any	instance	of	The	Evidence	Game	contains	objects	or	events	that	can't	be construed	as	evidence	for	the	game-initiating	religious	credences.	So	if	we	suspect someone	is	playing	The	Evidence	Game-as	opposed	to	really	working	through evidence-we	should	examine	whether	that	person	is	excluding	from	consideration items	that	are	evidentially	relevant	to	their	claims. Take,	for	example,	arguments	for	intelligent	design	that	invoke	the	second law	of	thermodynamics.	The	second	law	is	that	entropy	increases	in	closed	systems. (Roughly,	entropy	is	disorder	in	how	energy	is	distributed	in	a	system,	so	the	second law	says	that	we	should	expect	energy	distribution	to	become	less	orderly	over	time in	a	closed	system,	where	"closed"	means	that	energy	from	the	outside	is	neither being	injected	into,	nor	escaping	from,	the	system	in	question.)	Now,	the	biological world	consists	of	a	plethora	of	entities	that	are	physically	organized	in	ways	that don't	show	increasing	entropy:	highly	structured,	highly	concentrated	packages	of energy	known	as	organisms.	Intelligent	design	theorists	often	argue	that	the biological	world's	lack	of	entropy	shows	that	it	violates	the	second	law	of thermodynamics,	and	from	this	they	argue	there	must	be	an	intelligent	designer 23	It	might	also	be	evidence	to	some	extent,	but	only	resemblance	is	needed. 17 guiding	the	system.	Without	an	intelligent	designer	giving	input,	how	could	the biological	world	so	flagrantly	violate	the	second	law?	But	this	"argument"	obviously excludes	the	"in	closed	systems"	qualification	of	the	law.	If	an	energy	source	(like	the sun)	injects	energy	into	a	system,	then	the	law	does	not	predict	an	increase	in entropy. Furthermore,	anyone	who	understands	what	entropy	is	most	likely	can	also understand	the	qualifier	"in	closed	systems."	So	why	do	people	appeal	to	the	second law	but	ignore	the	"in	closed	systems"	part?24	I	hold	this	activity	is	best	construed	as an	instance	of	The	Evidence	Game,	in	which	the	first	portion	of	the	second	law makes	a	fine	r-prop	for	intelligent	design	credences,	but	in	which	the	"in	closed systems"	clause	falls	in	the	exclusion	class.	The	second	law	resembles	a	law	that would	make	a	splendid	piece	of	evidence	for	intelligent	design,	but	part	of	it	needs to	be	lopped	off;	the	post-amputation	law	is	the	r-prop.	Similarly,	a	stick	with	an awkward	branch	sticking	out	might	make	a	good	sword	prop,	as	long	as	you	rip	off or	ignore	the	awkward	branch.	In	either	case,	the	agent	playing	make-believe	or	the agent	playing	The	Evidence	Game	is	making	an	active	choice	to	put	something	in	the exclusion	class	that	doesn't	suit	her	game. Three	additional	examples	from	section	2.1	can	also	be	treated	as	The Evidence	Game.	First,	when	apologists	appeal	to	religious	texts	as	"historical" evidence,	texts	from	other	religious	traditions	fall	into	an	exclusion	class.	Why should	the	Gospels,	including	their	supernatural	portions,	be	historical	documents, but	not	the	Quran?	There's	not	a	fair	answer	to	this	question.	Rather,	the	Christian apologist's	r-principles	of	generation	for	her	version	of	The	Evidence	Game	exclude the	Quran.	Second,	the	same	can	be	said	for	systematic	theology	in	any	tradition:	the r-principles	of	generation	make	r-props	out	of	a	relatively	arbitrary	set	of	canonical texts	and	exclude	any	text	that	is	not	canonical;	from	this	perspective,	arguing	over what	belongs	in	a	canon	amounts	to	arguing	over	what	will	be	r-props	for	future instances	of	The	Evidence	Game	(and	other	enactments):	an	item	in	the	canon	gets to	be	an	r-prop;	ones	outside	it	don't.	From	this	perspective,	people	who	argue	over what	will	be	in	a	canon	resemble	children	who	argue	over	what	props	can	be	used	in a	game	of	make-believe.	(Significantly,	genuinely	evidence-responsive	cognitive enterprises	don't	need	canons,	so	the	existence	of	a	canon	in	any	intellectual enterprise	is	should	lead	us	to	suspect	The	Evidence	Game	is	being	played.)	Third, when	people	appeal	to	unlikely	good	fortunes	in	favor	of	their	religious	credences, they	typically	exclude	bad	fortunes	that	have	occurred	to	them	and	others.	Nor	are people	are	ignorant	of	bad	fortunes,	so	their	appeals	to	unlikely	good	fortunes	have the	telltale	sign	of	The	Evidence	Game:	an	exclusion	class	with	items	(i)	that	are	in fact	evidentially	relevant	to	the	contents	of	the	credence	in	question	and	(ii)	that	are known	about	by	the	person	making	the	"arguments."	In	all	three	kinds	of	example- "historical"	apologetics,	systematic	theology,	and	appeal	to	unlikely	fortunes-the selection	of	r-props	(and	the	exclusion	of	items	in	the	exclusion	class)	may	be 24	Sometimes	it's	worse	than	ignoring.	Charles	Thaxton	et	al.	(1984)	and	Jonathan	Safarti	(online) actually	try	to	argue	that	the	"in	closed	systems"	qualifier	doesn't	undermine	the	intelligent	design argument	based	on	the	second	law.	But	making	an	argument	like	this,	of	course,	involves	ignoring other	things,	which	simply	masks	the	fact	that	there	is	an	exclusion	class,	rather	than	getting	rid	of	it. 18 accompanied	by	certain	internal	twinges,	pangs,	and	prompting	that	are	felt	to	urge people	one	way	or	another	in	interpreting	the	'evidence';	these	internal	events,	too, often	become	their	own	r-props. The	present	perspective,	furthermore,	gives	us	a	simple	solution	to	the puzzle	of	petitionary	prayer.	To	give	an	example	from	Boudry	and	De	Smedt	(2011): why	do	people	tend	to	pray	for	cancer	to	be	cured	but	not	for	amputated	limbs	to grow	back?	If	God	is	omnipotent,	why	not?	The	answer	is	that	one's	background factual	beliefs	about	what	is	biologically	possible	entail	that	prayers	for regenerating	limbs	won't	make	good	r-props.	So	those	prayers	are	excluded.	A prayer	for	a	limb	to	grow	back	has	bad	prospects	for	being	an	r-prop.	So	one	simply doesn't	try.	A	prayer	for	cancer	to	be	cured,	however,	may	turn	out	to	be	an excellent	r-prop,	since	if	the	cancer	does	go	into	remission	(which	is	factually believed	to	be	possible),	one	can	make	one's	prayer	an	r-prop	in	a	game	of	religious enactment. We	can	now	see	clearly	how	The	Evidence	Game	contrasts	with	genuine evidential	vulnerability.	With	genuine	evidential	vulnerability	(as	defined)	there	is no	exclusion	class;	rather,	anything	that	could	bear	evidentially	on	the	content	of	a given	factual	belief,	either	directly	or	by	way	of	other	factual	beliefs,	is	a	potential extinguisher	of	that	belief	(this	is	a	consequence	of	the	lack	of	restriction	in	clause ii.).	So	genuinely	evidentially	vulnerable	attitudes-and	the	practices	that	yield them-have	no	exclusion	classes.	Everything	is	potentially	relevant.	The	web	of factual	belief	is	a	genuine	web. Again,	it	may	be	hard	to	tell	whether	a	given	person	has	genuinely evidentially	vulnerable	religious#credences	(or	factual	beliefs)	or	is	just	playing	The Evidence	Game.	In	my	view,	players	of	The	Evidence	Game	often	don't	realize themselves	that	this	is	what	they	are	doing.	And	it	shouldn't	be	easy	to	tell	whether The	Evidence	Game	is	being	played,	even	for	the	players	themselves,	since	part	of the	point	of	it	is	to	give	the	appearance	of	genuine	responsiveness	to	evidence:	one playing	The	Evidence	Game	in	defense	of	a	religious	credence	that	p	will	in	many ways	behave	as	if	she	had	an	evidentially	vulnerable	factual	belief	that	p,	so	coming to	a	view	about	whether	a	person	has	a	religious	credence	that	p	or	a	factual	belief that	p	will	always	be	a	matter	of	arriving	at	the	best	overall	theory	of	that	person's psychology.	One	way	of	looking	at	this	paper	is	that	it	contains	tools	for	constructing better	theories,	theories	that	will	often	have	the	following	form:	in	a	broad	range	of cases,	the	mechanisms	that	underlie	apparent	evidential	responsiveness	on	the	part of	religious	credences	are	the	same	as	the	psychological	mechanisms	behind pretend	play.	There	is,	I	grant,	much	work	to	be	done	in	cognitive	science	to	flesh out	this	claim,	not	least	of	all	because	the	mechanisms	behind	pretend	play	are	still	a matter	of	dispute25.	But	the	claim	provides	a	theoretically	useful	way	of	looking	at many	religious	behaviors	and	attitudes	that	seem	baffling	otherwise.26 25	For	some	of	the	debate,	see	Shaun	Nichols	and	Stephen	Stich	(2003),	Ori	Friedman	and	Alan	Leslie (2007),	and	Stephen	Stich	and	Joshua	Tarzia	(2015). 26	One	anonymous	referee	has	pointed	out	that	much	of	what	I	say	about	The	Evidence	Game	can	also be	said	about	scientific	practice.	So	if,	to	continue	the	worry,	The	Evidence	Game	explains	why religious	credences	appear	evidentially	responsive	without	being	so,	doesn't	it	follow	that	scientific attitudes	also	appear	evidentially	responsive	without	being	so?	Actually,	this	doesn't	follow.	My 19 4	An	Objection:	Can	Contents	and	Cultural	Evolution	Do	All	the	Work? Where	are	we	so	far?	I	made	it	clear	in	section	2	that	there	is	a	puzzle	about whether	religious	credences	respond	to	evidence.	Some	appear	to	respond	to evidence,	and	some	do	not.	But	I	claimed	that	the	appearance	that	they	do	is unconvincing,	since	they	are	not	evidentially	vulnerable	in	the	sense	that	is	relevant to	characterizing	the	space	of	cognitive	attitudes	as	a	whole.	This	claim	put	me	in	the position	of	having	to	explain	where	the	deceptive	appearances	of	evidential responsiveness	come	from;	to	explain	this,	I	developed	the	notion	of	The	Evidence Game. I	now	consider	an	alternate	possible	explanation	of	the	data.	Maarten	Boudry and	Johan	Braeckman	(2012)	argue	that	systematic	features	of	the	contents	of religious	"belief"	systems	render	such	systems	immune	to	disconfirmation.	For example,	they	point	out	that	religious	predictions	(or	other	ideological	predictions) often	have	"multiple	end	points":	a	prediction	will	come	with	a	literal	interpretation and	a	metaphorical	interpretation,	which	immunizes	the	underlying	"beliefs"	against disconfirmation.	Alternately,	religious	and	other	thought	systems	often	come	with conspiracy	thinking	and	invisible	escape	clauses,	which	make	it	hard	for	data	to impinge	on	them.	If	all	this	is	so,	one	might	attempt	to	develop	a	"content	only" explanation	for	why	religious	attitudes	often	fail	to	respond	to	evidence:	it's	not	that their	attitude	type	is	any	different-as	attitudes,	they're	just	"beliefs"	like	any	other evidentially	vulnerable	belief-rather	their	contents	alone	make	them	immune.27 This	suggestion28	deserves	a	fuller	treatment	than	I	can	give	here.	But	let	me give	reasons	why	I	am	skeptical.	To	be	clear,	I	am	not	skeptical	of	the	claim	that many	religious	"beliefs"	have	self-immunizing	contents;	Boudry	and	Braeckman	are right	about	that.	Rather,	I	am	skeptical	of	the	view	that	all	the	data	that	need	to	be explained	can	be	handled	well	by	a	"content	only"	view.	First	and	foremost,	a	view like	this	seems	to	predict	that	exposure	to	evidence	would	be	a	more	common reason	why	people	abandon	religious	"beliefs"	than	it	actually	is:	people	with evidentially	vulnerable	religious	attitudes	would	often	eventually	see	through	the theory	of	The	Evidence	Game	is	meant	as	an	explanation	of	why	a	given	kind	of	attitude	would appear	evidentially	responsive,	whether	or	not	it	is;	however,	the	fact	that	an	attitude	is	a	product	of The	Evidence	Game	does	not	entail	that	that	attitude	is	invulnerable	to	evidence.	It's	just	part	of	what I	think	is	our	best	overall	theory	of	the	data,	including	many	examples,	that	religious	credences	are not	vulnerable	to	evidence.	But	our	best	overall	theory	of	scientific	attitudes	will	be	much	different. Correspondingly,	the	resemblance	of	scientific	practice	to	The	Evidence	Game	does	not	entail	that scientific	attitudes	are	not	vulnerable	to	evidence.	This	worry	can	also	be	flipped	around.	One	might say	that,	since	The	Evidence	Game	resembles	scientific	practice	and	scientific	practice	does	respond to	evidence,	The	Evidence	Game	responds	to	evidence	too.	My	response	here	is	to	grant	that	The Evidence	Game	might	involve	"evidence	responsiveness"	in	some	weaker	sense,	but	it	does	not	yield the	property	of	evidential	vulnerability,	which	is	the	form	of	evidential	responsiveness	that	is	relevant to	distinguishing	cognitive	attitudes.	So	I	can	grant	this	version	of	the	worry,	while	still	maintaining my	overall	thesis. 27	The	Boudry	and	Braeckman	paper	does	not	argue	that	religious	"beliefs"	are	just	like	any	other doxastic	attitude;	however,	their	account	makes	that	argument	available-which	is	a	challenge	to	my view-by	attempting	to	explain	the	surprising	features	of	religious	"beliefs"	by	appeal	to	structural features	of	their	contents.	One	might	think,	on	reading	their	paper,	that	it	renders	an	attitude approach,	such	as	I	take,	unnecessary. 28	Due	to	an	anonymous	referee. 20 thicket	of	misleading	contents	and	start	to	reject	their	evidentially	refuted	religious doctrines;	otherwise	put,	evidentially	vulnerable	religious	beliefs,	even	with	content features	that	Boudry	and	Braeckman	identify,	would	be	much	more	unstable	than we	in	fact	see.	Now,	sometimes	exposure	to	evidence	does	seem	to	undermine religious	credence,	as	I	discuss	in	the	next	section,	but	this	is	not	how	departure from	religious	usually	works.	Rather,	people	tend	to	leave	religions,	when	they	do, for	social	and	moral	reasons;	they	only	rarely	abandon	religious	credences	due	to evidence	(Roozen	1980;	Sauvayre	2011).	Second,	most	religious	people	just	don't seem	to	care	about	evidence	for	their	credences.	The	Evidence	Game	is	played mostly	by	intellectuals	and	apologists.	The	more	usual	lack	of	concern	with	evidence suggests	to	me	that	something	about	the	attitude	itself	is	evidentially	invulnerable. Third,	we	have	to	ask	how	the	self-immunizing	contents	get	there	in	the	first	place. Boudry	and	Braeckman	suggest	that	they	are	the	product	of	cultural	evolution: religious	"belief"	systems	that	didn't	have	them	were	weeded	out	historically;	ones that	did	have	them	survived.	To	me,	however,	this	suggests	a	much	too	passive picture	of	how	the	self-immunizing	contents	of	religious	credences	are	generated.29 It	is	not	as	if	they	are	stumbled	upon	by	passive	ideational	mutation;	rather,	they often	appear	to	be	actively	generated	on	the	fly-often	improvised	by	lay	people and	"experts"	alike	(Boyer	2001:	302;	Legare	and	Gelman	2008:	636).	And	if	it's	true that	the	religious	often	invent	self-immunizing	strategies	for	their	beliefs,	then	it	is likely	that	those	very	strategies	are	the	products	of	the	sorts	of	creative	processes that	I	identify	in	this	paper.	But	those	creative	processes-religious	enactment	and The	Evidence	Game-are	characteristic	of	religious	credence	and	not	of	factual belief,	which	sits	ill	with	a	"content	only"	explanation	of	the	data	in	question. There	is	much	more	on	this	matter	to	be	said.	But	at	least,	at	this	point,	my reasons	for	positing	an	attitude-based	explanation	of	the	evidential	invulnerability of	religious	credences-as	opposed	to	a	"content	only"	explanation-should	be clear. 5	Conclusion:	Evidence	and	Apostates The	main	reason	for	adopting	the	Evidence	Game	Thesis	and	its corresponding	theory	is	that	they	solve	the	puzzle	presented	in	section	2.	They explain	the	appearance	of	evidence	responsiveness	on	the	part	of	religious credences:	that	appearance	is	due	to	The	Evidence	Game.	But	the	discussion	so	far has	made	three	other	reasons	for	agreeing	with	me	available	as	well.	First,	the solution	given	here	is	parsimonious	in	that	it	appeals	to	psychological	structures	we have	independent	reason	to	posit	(both	in	making	sense	of	make-believe	and	in making	sense	of	ritual);	it	is	thus	a	unifying	explanation	(Friedman	1974).	Second 29	To	be	fair,	Boudry	and	Braeckman	do	allow	that	there	can	be	some	active	generation	of	new religious	ideas.	But	two	points	should	be	made.	First,	their	overall	picture	is	a	fairly	passive	one, which	sits	ill	with	the	improvisatory	character	of	much	religious	idea	generation.	Second,	to	the extent	that	they	do	allow	that	religious	idea	generation	can	be	active	(which	I	call	creative elaboration)	their	view	does	not	help	someone	who	is	trying	to	use	it	to	object	to	my	view,	since creative	elaboration	sits	ill	with	evidential	vulnerability	and	is	not	characteristic	of	factual	belief	in any	case. 21 and	relatedly,	my	view	coheres	with	the	overwhelmingly	supported	view	in cognitive	science	of	religion	that	religious	cognitions	and	behaviors	are outcroppings	of	psychological	mechanisms	that	exist	independently	of	religion (Boyer	2001;	McCauley	2011;	Norenzayan	2013).	Memory	systems,	agent	detection, in-group/out-group	distinctions,	concern	with	death,	etc.	all	exist	independently	of religion	(even	broadly	construed),	but	they	all	feed	into	it;	if	I	am	right,	the	same	can be	said	for	the	psychological	mechanisms	behind	pretend	play:	they	exist independently	of	religion,	but	they	feed	into	it.	Third,	my	view	helps	explain	the active	nature	of	the	content	generation	among	religious	credences.	Much	religious credence	is	indeed	inherited	from	culture,	but	processes	like	regarding	certain internal	mental	events	as	the	voice	of	God	are,	as	Luhrmann	would	put	it,	a	matter	of choice.	The	Boudry	and	Braeckman	cultural	evolution	model,	though	it	explains much,	leaves	such	active	choices	unexplained;	such	credence-generating	choices, however,	are	well	accounted	for	by	my	theory. One	more	question	remains.	Recall	from	2.1	that	some	people	claim	to	leave religion	due	to	encounter	with	science.	This	suggests,	prima	facie,	that	their religious	"beliefs"	were	responsive	to	evidence	after	all.	But	my	view	says	religious credences	are	not	evidentially	vulnerable.	So	how	am	I	to	make	sense	of	people leaving	religion	due	to	encounter	with	science?	Of	course,	some	people	may	at	some point	in	their	lives	have	had	factual	beliefs	with	religious/supernatural	contents, which	then	got	extinguished	by	evidence	over	time.	This	is	fairly	straightforward. But	I	don't	think	that's	what	is	usually	going	on	when	scientifically	minded	people leave	religion	(which,	again,	is	not	the	most	usual	trigger	for	people	to	leave	religion anyway). Rather,	I	think	we	have	the	following.	As	we	saw	from	the	intelligent	design treatment	of	the	second	law	of	thermodynamics,	it	is	quite	possible	for	important scientific	principles	(or	parts	of	them)	to	fall	in	the	exclusion	class	of	an	instance	of The	Evidence	Game.	Since	religious	credences	are	identity-constituting	attitudes, one	holding	them	must	play	the	relevant	games	whenever	one's	identity	is	in question.	It	follows	that	if	various	scientific	facts	or	laws	are	in	the	exclusion	class	of one's	religious	identity-constituting	game,	one	who	has	the	relevant	religious credences	is	required	to	publically	ignore	or	alternately	construe	those	facts	and laws.	And	in	my	view,	many	people	who	are	attracted	to	science	at	some	level	feel that	The	Evidence	Game's	frequent	distortion	of	scientific	fact	is	deceptive,	both	of oneself	and	others.	The	difference	between	the	Evidence	Game	and	normal	games	of make-believe	is	that,	in	normal	games	of	make-believe,	one	is	allowed	to	whisper, "This	is	not	actually	real."	And	one	stops	playing	when	one	feels	like	it.	But	though the	psychological	mechanisms	of	the	Evidence	Game	parallel	those	of	make-believe play,	one	is	required	by	religious	identity	to	affirm,	whenever	the	question	arises, "Yes,	this	is	real."	Thus,	most	scientifically	minded	people	are	perfectly	happy	with the	most	outlandish	science	fiction,	precisely	because	after	or	even	during	the	play they	are	free	to	whisper,	"This	is	not	actually	real."	But	having,	as	a	matter	of identity,	to	say	"Yes,	this	is	real"	about	distortions	of	science	is	apt	to	trigger revulsion	in	many	people. So	this	is	my	explanation	for	why	people	can	be	moved	by	science	to	abandon religious	credence.	The	games	of	religious	enactment	that	produce	religious 22 credences	(in	many	religious	traditions)	require	following	r-principles	of	generation that	leave	much	scientific	knowledge	in	the	exclusion	class-and	even	require distortion	of	it.	If	one	loves	science,	one	will	be	less	inclined	to	play	these	games. Acknowledgements I	delivered	early	versions	of	this	paper	at	Vrije	Universiteit	Amsterdam	in	May	2015 and	at	University	of	Antwerp	in	June	2015.	I	thank	the	audiences	for	their	questions and	comments,	and	I	thank	Helen	De	Cruz	and	Bence	Nanay,	respectively,	for hosting	me.	I	also	presented	material	from	this	paper	at	the	"Understanding	Science Denialism"	workshop	at	Wake	Forest	University	in	July	2015;	I	thank	Adrian	Bardon for	including	me	in	the	workshop	and	other	participants	for	their	feedback.	I delivered	a	later	version	at	the	"False	but	Useful	Beliefs"	workshop	in	London	in February	2016.	I	thank	the	audience	there	for	questions	and	comments,	and	I	thank Ema	Sullivan-Bissett	and	Lisa	Bartolotti	for	including	me.	For	further	helpful exchanges,	I	thank	Adrian	Bardon,	Maarten	Boudry,	Patrick	Butlin,	Dan	Dennett, Kris	Goffin,	Laura	Gow,	Grace	Helton,	Rob	Hopkins,	Shen-yi	Liao,	Bence	Nanay, Maarten	Steenhagen,	Margot	Strohminger,	and	Nick	Young.	I	received	valuable feedback	as	well	from	Ema	Sullivan-Bissett	and	two	anonymous	referees,	for	which	I thank	them.	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