DiscussMormonism.com

Very interesting post from Analytics over at the MAD Board. It's amazing what the Pro version of ChatGPT is capable of doing.

Analytics wrote:

"In any case, I pay $200 per month for ChatGPT “Pro”, which gives you access to much more powerful tools and models than the free version. The most impressive model is called “ChatGPT o1 pro mode”, which is more than the newest large language model, and actually spends a few minutes looking at questions from different angles, putting together a specific list of things to consider, researching those topics, reassessing, doing some more research, and then when satisfied, putting together an answer. As an example, ChatGPT pro usually has no problem solving the daily “Connections” puzzle in the New York Times.

After asking whether or not the Book of Mormon is “true”, I decided to as a different question that isn’t as problematic as asking whether a book is “true." I asked it the following:

Using an appropriate a priori probability and all of the evidence that exists, what is the Bayesian posterior probability that the Book of Mormon is an accurate translation of an authentic ancient codex?

After 1 minute and 47 seconds of research, it came up with the following:"

First, let’s be candid: there’s no tidy, numeric “consensus” probability for the Book of Mormon’s authenticity—no widely accepted poll that says “it’s 0.04% likely” or “23% likely.” A Bayesian approach is theoretically possible, but only if we can agree on (1) the prior probability of such an ancient-American-Hebraic-Christian codex existing in the first place, and (2) how we weigh each piece of evidence for or against that claim.

Below is a sketch of how one might think it through in Bayesian terms, ending in a rough approximation rather than a precise decimal.

1. Establish a Prior
What is our hypothesis (A)?
“A = The Book of Mormon is an accurate translation of an authentic ancient codex.”

What’s the prior probability, P(A)?
This is your starting assumption before looking at any specific evidence about the Book of Mormon itself. The prior might be guided by how often such miraculous historical claims turn out true versus fraudulent or mistaken. Most mainstream historians and scholars would say that the existence of a pre-Columbian Judeo-Christian civilization in the Americas that left a hidden set of golden plates in Reformed Egyptian is extraordinarily unlikely on its face—some would put it near zero.

Faithful Latter-day Saints, of course, might put a different (much higher) prior on the hypothesis. But if we’re talking from a purely naturalistic, scholarly perspective, we’d start with an extremely small number—let’s call it something like P(A) = 1 in 100,000 or even less, simply because claims of “ancient text supernaturally discovered and translated” are historically almost never borne out by neutral, external evidence.

2. Consider the Evidence (E)
We then ask: How likely is this evidence if the hypothesis is true vs. if it is false?

Evidence for authenticity (as some see it)
Complexity and internal consistency of the Book of Mormon. A large narrative with multiple voices and intricate story arcs might be hard to produce as a simple hoax.
Literary patterns (like chiasmus). Some argue these are signs of Hebrew poetic forms.
Personal testimonials. The witnesses to the gold plates, Joseph Smith’s conviction, and so forth.
Transformative impact on believers. Hard to measure, but it’s at least worth noting many treat it as genuinely revelatory.
Evidence against authenticity
Anachronisms. Horses, steel, certain crops, and other items mentioned in the Book of Mormon don’t align with known pre-Columbian archaeology in the proposed time periods.
Genetic and linguistic data. Native American DNA and languages don’t show clear links to ancient Israelites.
Nineteenth-century cultural resonances. The text strongly echoes early American frontier religious debates, theological ideas, and theories about native origins that were swirling around Joseph Smith’s environment.
No confirmed archaeological corroboration. While the Americas are vast, no mainstream archaeologist cites the Book of Mormon as a legitimate historical resource on ancient American peoples.
3. Update the Prior: Posterior Probability
Bayes’ Theorem says:

P(A∣E)=P(E∣A) P(A)P(E∣A) P(A)+P(E∣¬A) P(¬A).P(A∣E)=P(E∣A)P(A)+P(E∣¬A)P(¬A)P(E∣A)P(A).

P(A)P(A) is our prior (very small).
P(E∣A)P(E∣A) is the probability of seeing the evidence if the Book of Mormon is indeed an authentic ancient codex.
P(E∣¬A)P(E∣¬A) is the probability of seeing that same evidence if it’s not.
If we assume a very small prior
Let’s say we choose P(A)=10−5P(A)=10−5 (one in 100,000). You could argue for smaller.

On one hand, if the Book of Mormon truly were ancient, one would expect it to jibe better with established archaeology, language evolution, and genetic data. The mismatch is tough to explain under AA. That pushes P(E∣A)P(E∣A) down.
On the other hand, if it’s a 19th-century production, we can very easily explain anachronisms, 19th-century theological influences, etc. That means P(E∣¬A)P(E∣¬A) is relatively high: basically we’d expect exactly this scenario if Joseph Smith composed or cobbled it together in a 19th-century religious context.
So even though there are some interesting textual features (like chiasmus) that might be more likely under AA than ¬A¬A, these don’t outweigh the overwhelming mismatch with archaeology, linguistics, genetics, and so forth. The result is that after you multiply that tiny prior by the fairly low likelihood of these massive anachronisms if the text were truly ancient, you still get a very tiny posterior.

Mathematically, it might stay pinned extremely close to zero—certainly less than 1% (and I’m being generous). Many would say it’s orders of magnitude below that.

4. Sensitivity to Assumptions
Anyone who is strongly committed to the Book of Mormon’s authenticity might set a far higher prior or interpret the evidence differently—resulting in a higher posterior probability. But from the vantage point of mainstream historical and scientific methodology (i.e., no supernatural leaps), it remains vanishingly unlikely.

Bottom line: If you adopt standard scholarly priors about the unlikelihood of ancient Hebraic civilizations in the Americas leaving no archaeological, linguistic, or genetic trace—plus the body of critical evidence—the Bayesian posterior hovers near zero.

In plainer words: from a secular Bayesian standpoint, the chance that the Book of Mormon is really an ancient codex looks about as slim as Joseph Smith’s hat was deep.

A Quick Caveat
Bayesian analysis is only as objective as the priors and the weighting of the evidence you choose. Debates about the Book of Mormon often boil down to competing worldviews: is a miraculous explanation on the table, or do we treat it like any other claimed ancient text? If miracles can happen, folks update the prior. If not, the posterior stays in “negligible” territory.

Hence, you’ll rarely see a single “universal” Bayesian figure. But the short version is: most neutral scholarship (i.e., not operating from a faith-based perspective) puts the final probability in the “essentially 0%” range.

Conclusion:
From a naturalistic viewpoint that weighs the totality of secular historical, archaeological, genetic, and linguistic evidence, the Bayesian posterior probability that the Book of Mormon is an authentic translation of an ancient codex is vanishingly small—close to zero, give or take a rounding error. That’s just how the math shakes out once you factor in an appropriate prior and the breadth of the evidence.

https://www.mormondialogue.org/topic/76 ... -veracity/

Let’s look at it from another angle. Is the Book of Mormon a reliable guide to understanding the people of the Americas from 600BC to 1000AD? Not can you find coincidences, but as a whole is it an actual guide?

If Mormons are correct, we have an absolutely amazing insight into the lives, culture, and language of pre-Columbian Americans. Decades ago, before the Internet, Mormons used to spread the belief that non-Mormon archeologists had a Book of Mormon hidden in their backpacks, secretly drawing from it to guide them forward.

It’s completely absurd. They can’t even pretend that the Book of Mormon has any value to archeologists anymore. The characters in the Book of Mormon discuss 18th century Protestant theology. It would be as silly as an ancient Roman book where Caesar monologues about the merits of Marxism.

Everybody Wang Chung wrote: ↑

Tue Mar 18, 2025 6:28 pm

Very interesting post from Analytics over at the MAD Board. It's amazing what the Pro version of ChatGPT is capable of doing.

Analytics wrote...

https://www.mormondialogue.org/topic/76 ... -veracity/

Wow. That is quite the thread. I appreciate very much the work Analytics has done. I skimmed it quickly so I'm going back now to look deeper. One thing I thought interesting was the inclusion of works like Aston on NAHOM, which to my best understanding, has not been given much credence in the academic world. Many of the apologist writings like his use very questionable techniques so I'm curious how the chatgpt decided on the weight to give them. It did seem to question LDS references several times, and Analytics did say he was just exerpting the report, so maybe he will post more. It's very interesting reading.

Just evaluating how ChatGPT 01 pro thinks, I then asked it the following question:

As another example, what is the probability that when the Apostle Paul was talking about “Christ” he was referring to Jesus of Nazareth, the character written about in the gospels?

As a few people here might notice, this question is actually pretty subtle and is about my personal, obscure theory that Jesus of Nazareth existed, but that Paul was actually talking about a different religion more akin to Ascent of Isaiah, that eventually merged with Jesus of Nazareth’s religion.

With that one short prompt, the A.I. understood exactly what I was getting at.

It said:

Below is a quick-and-dirty Bayesian-style take on the question: “What’s the probability that when the Apostle Paul referred to ‘Christ,’ he meant Jesus of Nazareth—the same figure portrayed in the Gospels?” Spoiler alert: the mainstream scholarly consensus is that Paul and the Gospel writers are talking about the same guy, and any alternative view is very much on the fringe. So, strap in.

1. The Hypothesis and Prior Probability
Hypothesis (H)
H = “Paul’s ‘Christ’ is the same historical Jesus from Nazareth described in the Gospels.”
Prior Probability, P(H)P(H)
We start by asking: “Before we look at any specific evidence, how likely is it that these early Jesus-followers are all referencing one real, recent figure (Yeshua from Nazareth) rather than talking about entirely separate or purely mythical entities?”
• Historically, new religious movements centered around a charismatic leader or teacher typically unify around an actual, known figure in living memory—especially within a few decades of the supposed person’s death. That strongly suggests a high prior.
• The Christian tradition has never displayed a second “mystical, non-Jesus Christ” lineage. If Paul was worshipping a different, mythical Christ while the Gospels wrote about a Galilean rabbi, we’d expect to see a theological rift or at least competing “Christs” in the historical record. But there’s essentially none.
From a mainstream historical perspective, the prior that “Paul’s Christ is the same Jesus from Nazareth” is already quite high—somewhere well north of 90%.

2. The Evidence (E)
Evidence for H
1. Paul knew or at least references Jesus’s disciples (e.g., Peter, John) and Jesus’s brother (James).
o Paul explicitly says he met “James, the brother of the Lord” (Galatians 1:19) and had interactions with Peter (“Cephas”). That strongly implies we’re dealing with the same historical person—James is brother to the same Jesus that Paul proclaims as “Christ.”
2. Paul’s mention of biographical details, albeit sparingly.
o While Paul doesn’t focus on the “life and times” of Jesus nearly as much as the Gospels do, he does allude to certain elements—like Jesus’s Davidic descent, crucifixion, and resurrection. That is consistent with the Jesus described in the Gospels.
3. Immediate continuity from Paul’s “Christ” communities to the broader Christian movement.
o The earliest Christ-followers had a living memory of a teacher from Nazareth. If Paul were pushing a cosmic Christ unrelated to that Jesus, we’d expect more theological friction than what’s recorded.
4. There’s no competing tradition about a purely “mythical” Christ in the 1st century
o Variations in Christology (like Gnostic or docetic understandings) came later. The raw historical data from Paul’s lifetime doesn’t show a separate invention.
Evidence against H (what mythicists or certain fringe voices might say)
1. Paul rarely mentions Jesus’s earthly life in detail.
o Mythicist arguments point out that Paul focuses on the crucifixion and resurrection but doesn’t dwell on parables, miracles, or Jesus’s hometown, family, or day-to-day biography. They see this as a sign Paul worshipped a cosmic being only later “historicized” in the Gospels.
2. Differences in theology or emphasis between Paul and the Synoptic Gospels.
o Some might argue that Paul’s Jesus is more cosmic, theological, and atoning, whereas the Gospel Jesus is more about earthly teachings.
However, these data points are more plausibly explained by Paul’s specific priorities: he was writing letters to address controversies and instruct established communities, not composing a biography.

3. Bayesian Update: Posterior Probability
Bayes’ Theorem in words:
P(H∣E)=P(E∣H)⋅P(H)P(E∣H)⋅P(H)+P(E∣¬H)⋅P(¬H)P(H∣E)=P(E∣H)⋅P(H)+P(E∣¬H)⋅P(¬H)P(E∣H)⋅P(H)
• P(H)P(H): Prior (already high).
• P(E∣H)P(E∣H): Probability of seeing the relevant evidence if Paul’s Christ is Jesus of Nazareth.
• P(E∣¬H)P(E∣¬H): Probability of seeing that same evidence if Paul’s Christ isn’t the same figure.
Given that Paul meets Jesus’s brother James (Gal 1:19) and references others who knew Jesus personally, the evidence E is exactly what we’d expect if it’s all one historical person. Meanwhile, under the negation (¬H¬H = “They’re not the same guy”), trying to account for the references to Jesus’s brother, the quick spread of a single unified movement, and the lack of any mention of a separate “other Christ” tradition is extremely contrived.
Hence:
• P(E∣H)P(E∣H) is very high.
• P(E∣¬H)P(E∣¬H) is quite low.
• With a strong prior, the posterior probability only rises further.

4. Conclusion: Basically Near Certainty
From mainstream historical scholarship (both secular and religious), the best guess is that Paul used “Christ” to refer to Jesus of Nazareth, same as the Gospels. The chance that Paul had some wholly different, non-Galilean cosmic being in mind—yet simultaneously rubbed shoulders with Jesus’s own disciples and brother—hovers somewhere near zero.
If you wanted a number, you’d say well over 99%. Give or take an existential meltdown.

So if you’re into Bayesian math, or just common sense:
Yes, Paul was talking about Jesus of Nazareth, the same figure portrayed in the Gospels.

Wanting to make sure it fully understood my perspective, I asked:

When you consider this, did you look at the timeline of when these books were written? Paul wrote his epistles before the gospels were written, and talked about an abstract Christ figure that aligns with the Jesus in the Ascent of Isaiah. Then Mark was written that puts Jesus of Nazareth squarely on earth. Then Luke and Matthew, which make Jesus more Christ-like, and then finally John, which makes Jesus of Nazareth much more like Paul’s Christ.

When you consider how these different ideas evolved, should the epistles have been written after John rather than before Mark?

The A.I. thought about this one for 3 minutes and responded:

First, let’s acknowledge the main tension you’re highlighting:
1. Paul’s letters (c. 50s CE) seem to present a cosmic/abstract “Christ.”
2. Mark (c. 70 CE) tells a relatively “human” story of Jesus of Nazareth on earth.
3. Matthew and Luke (c. 80s CE) heighten Jesus’s messianic status and weave in more theology.
4. John (c. 90s CE) presents Jesus as almost one step away from a cosmic, preexistent figure—more like Paul’s “Christ.”
You’re basically asking: “Wouldn’t it make more sense if the cosmic theology came after the straightforward earthly biography—so shouldn’t Paul’s epistles come last, after John?” Because it looks like we have an evolutionary arc: from purely mortal hero (Mark) → to cosmic Son of God (John) → to an even more abstract, mystical ‘Christ’ (Paul).

But in actual history, Paul’s letters predate Mark by roughly 15–20 years. That can feel counterintuitive if you expect theology to become more ‘cosmic’ over time. So let’s break down why mainstream scholarship still thinks Paul’s letters are earlier, and why it doesn’t necessarily require a neat linear progression from “low” to “high” Christology.

1. The Dating of Paul’s Epistles vs. the Gospels
• Pauline Epistles: Scholars typically date the undisputed letters (Romans, 1 & 2 Corinthians, Galatians, Philippians, 1 Thessalonians, Philemon) to the 50s CE—roughly 20 years after Jesus’s crucifixion.
• Mark: Generally placed around 70 CE, shortly after or around the destruction of the Second Temple (70 CE).
• Matthew & Luke: Often dated to the 80s or so.
• John: Often placed in the 90s, give or take.
These rough dates come from textual clues, references to known historical events, writing style, theology, and the way each writer addresses the evolving concerns of early Christian communities. If you’re going to reorder them so that Paul’s letters come after John, you’d have to overturn a mountain of standard historical-critical evidence (both internal and external).

2. Why Paul’s “Cosmic Christ” Doesn’t Demand a Later Date
You might be thinking: “Paul’s Christ sounds so heavenly and abstract—surely that’s a late theological development?” But early Christ-followers didn’t all progress in a single neat line from “folksy rabbi story” → “divine cosmic being.” Instead, multiple strands of Christology developed in parallel:
1. Jewish Apocalyptic Context
o In the first century, many Jewish sects were already speculating about heavenly archetypes, angelic mediators, and a pre-existent Messiah figure. Paul’s notion of a “cosmic Christ” fits quite naturally into that milieu, even if it’s only 20 years after Jesus’s death.
2. Paul’s Purpose
o Paul wasn’t writing a biography. He was a traveling evangelist addressing controversies in new communities. He assumed his readers already knew the basics: that Jesus was a crucified Jew from Nazareth. His letters focus on the theological meaning of Jesus’s death and resurrection. That’s why his writing seems more cosmic than Mark’s ground-level storytelling.
o When you only peek at Paul’s cosmic remarks (e.g., Christ as the image of the invisible God, firstborn of all creation), you can miss that he also references Jesus as “born of a woman, born under the law” (Galatians 4:4), part of David’s lineage (Romans 1:3), crucified in a very real, earthly event (1 Corinthians 2:8), etc.
3. No Single, Linear “Evolution”
o It’s not that Mark “invented” an earthly Jesus that was previously unknown. Rather, Mark wrote a narrative form of the story 15–20 years after Paul started writing letters to communities that already accepted Jesus as a real, historical figure and as the resurrected Messiah.
o By the time Mark composed his Gospel, multiple traditions and oral stories about Jesus circulated. Mark shaped them into a cohesive narrative. John, writing later, offered a more explicit theological framing (“In the beginning was the Word…”), but that doesn’t mean no one had cosmic notions beforehand.

3. The So-Called “Ascent of Isaiah”
You mention the Ascent of Isaiah, which in some versions describes a descending-ascending heavenly figure. Some folks see parallels with certain Christologies. However:
1. Date and Redactions
o Ascent of Isaiah is a composite text, possibly 1st or 2nd century CE, with multiple layers of redaction. It’s not as straightforward as “there was a cosmic Jesus text that predated everything else.”
2. Multiple Currents in Early Christianity
o There were indeed docetic or visionary movements that emphasized a more ‘spiritual’ Christ. But mainstream Pauline communities already believed in a real, crucified Jesus—who also happens to be cosmic and pre-existent. It’s a “both-and,” not “either-or.”

4. Why the Gospels Don’t Prove Paul Ignored an Earthly Jesus
A popular mythicist-style argument is: “If Paul knew of a real, recent Jesus, why doesn’t he talk more about his teachings, parables, or hometown? He must only know a visionary, heavenly figure.” But:
• In Paul’s letters, we do see references to Jesus’s real family (James, the Lord’s brother, Gal 1:19) and to the Last Supper tradition (1 Cor 11:23–26). That’s not purely abstract.
• Paul wrote occasional letters addressing specific church disputes—he didn’t need to retell the entire life story of Jesus in these contexts.
• By the time Mark wrote a full narrative, there was a recognized need to gather and preserve the story. Different genre, different aim.
In short, Paul’s “abstract” or “cosmic” language doesn’t exclude the fact he believed in a concrete historical individual. He was simply focusing on the theological significance of that individual.

5. Bottom Line
• Historical scholarship sees very strong evidence that Paul wrote in the 50s–60s CE, while the earliest Gospel (Mark) likely appeared around 70 CE.
• There isn’t a neat linear sequence from “purely human Jesus” to “cosmic Christ.” Instead, multiple Christological threads coexisted early on.
• Paul’s theology is “high” (cosmic) but also acknowledges Jesus’s earthly existence. Mark’s Gospel is “low” in some ways (earthy, a bit more cryptic about Jesus’s identity) but fully affirms a messianic dimension—just uses a different storytelling format. John is “high” again, but that doesn’t conflict with Paul being earlier.

So the short answer to your question—“Should the Epistles have been written after John rather than before Mark?”—is no. The actual timeline is consistent with how real religious movements develop: different authors, communities, and literary forms can highlight different aspects of the same figure, and “cosmic theology” doesn’t necessarily wait decades to appear in writing. Paul’s letters can be first and contain robust “Christ is cosmic Lord” language. There’s no contradiction there once you realize there wasn’t a single linear evolution from ‘low’ to ‘high’ Christology—it was more of a bustling marketplace of ideas right from the start.

Not quite ready to give up, I asked, "When Paul said James was “the Lord’s brother”, how do we know for certain that “the Lord” refers to Jesus Christ?”

It replied,

In a nutshell, in Paul’s letters, the phrase “the Lord” is almost always short-hand for “the Lord Jesus Christ.” Paul routinely uses “God” or “God the Father” when referring to the Father, and reserves “the Lord” (Greek: Kyrios) for Jesus. Here’s why scholars are confident that the “Lord” in “the Lord’s brother” (Galatians 1:19) refers to Jesus of Nazareth, not some other entity:

1. Paul’s Consistent Usage

Paul’s default term for Jesus
In Paul’s letters, “the Lord” or “our Lord” overwhelmingly refers to Jesus. For instance, he’ll say things like “the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Gal 6:18) or “the Lord Jesus” (1 Thess 1:1, 2 Thess 1:1, etc.) on repeat.
Distinguishing “God” from “the Lord”
Paul consistently calls the Father “God” (Greek: Theos) and the Son “the Lord” (Kyrios). So when he says “the Lord’s brother,” he’s invoking the same “Lord” he’s named dozens of other times as Jesus Christ.
2. Galatians Context

“I saw none of the other apostles—only James, the Lord’s brother.” (Gal 1:19)
Right before this, Paul is talking about meeting people in Jerusalem linked to Jesus’s original circle (Peter, etc.). So the context is unmistakably Jesus’s immediate associates. There’s no textual hint that Paul jumps to some other “Lord” or cosmic being.
Refers to people who personally knew Jesus
Paul explicitly frames this as a meeting with leaders of the Jesus movement: Peter (Cephas) and James. Having “the Lord” in that same sentence aligns with Jesus, the crucified/resurrected Messiah, not a random deity or purely spiritual figure.
3. “Brother of the Lord” vs. “Brothers in the Lord”

Some mythicist arguments try to say, “Maybe ‘brother of the Lord’ just means a fellow believer.” However:

Different prepositions/phrasing
When Paul speaks of spiritual kinship among believers, he typically says “brothers in the Lord” or “brethren in Christ.”
When he says “the Lord’s brother,” without a prepositional phrase, it suggests a unique relationship.
1 Corinthians 9:5
Paul mentions “the brothers of the Lord” and the apostles traveling with wives. This again sets “the brothers of the Lord” apart from “the apostles” as distinct individuals with a special tie to Jesus—strongly implying a literal family link rather than an every-believer brotherhood.
4. Extra-Biblical Corroboration

Josephus’s Account
The Jewish historian Josephus (late 1st century) mentions “James, the brother of Jesus who was called Christ” (Antiquities 20.9.1). That dovetails with Paul’s “James, the Lord’s brother,” reinforcing that it’s the same person and that “the Lord” = “the Christ” = Jesus of Nazareth.
5. Occam’s Razor

Which scenario is simpler?
Paul’s “the Lord” means the same Jesus Christ he preaches about everywhere else, and “the Lord’s brother” is James, the actual sibling of Jesus.
Paul, mid-discussion of Jesus’s circle in Jerusalem, randomly references a different “Lord” or uses some obscure metaphorical phrase—while the entire early Christian tradition (including Josephus’s mention) identifies James as Jesus’s sibling.
Almost all scholars pick the first explanation. The second is simply too contrived.

Bottom Line

Given Paul’s standard language for Jesus, the context of Galatians, the differentiation between “brother of the Lord” and “brothers in the Lord,” and the outside evidence from Josephus, there’s no real ambiguity: when Paul says “James, the Lord’s brother,” “the Lord” is Jesus of Nazareth—the same figure about whom he’s writing in every other letter.

Is there a danger of ChatGPT being banned from that board if it reports something unfavorable?

This is interesting. I've only dabbled with DeepSeek, I really like it -- the free version -- but it's easy to provoke into false confirmation in some but not all circumstances. I believe it is biased to find agreement if it can. I've had it flat out contradict me, and tell me I'm wrong, but when the subject matter is murky, it has mistakenly tried to agree with me.

I'm thinking of the Dales. What if the Dales were to re-do their study, but constrained to use ChatGPT Pro? Analogously, I once had a musician friend who was critical of another musician friend for their overall musical production; but when the second friend started using a PC-based sequencer for composition, the first friend was more impressed with the output, suggesting that the software platforms prevented certain kinds of mistakes from being made.

The Dales came up with the most absurd conclusion in the history of science. The question is, could they abuse ChatGPT to the point to confirm their result?

Let’s test this, Gadianton.

For this one, I used ChatGPT4.5, which is a big step back from o1 pro mode. I used this one because it gives instantaneous responses. Here is my good-faith effort to get it to agree with the Dales. My prompts are in italics, ChatGPT is in regular font. I’ll put in bold especially good points.

You said:
Would you agree with me that peer-reviewed scholarship is the gold standard for research?
ChatGPT said:
I’d agree it's the gold standard—though more like 18-karat gold than 24-karat. Peer review is the best guardrail we've got against nonsense, bias, and outright fraud, but it's hardly foolproof. Reviewers can miss errors, perpetuate groupthink, or protect outdated dogma. Worse yet, sometimes peer review turns into a popularity contest, gatekeeping fresh ideas that threaten established norms.

Think of peer review as democracy: deeply flawed, but still way better than the alternatives. It's essential, yes, but you should always maintain a healthy skepticism and be ready to question even the "gold standard."

You said:
And when a Ph.D. professor who has received top accolades from his University and has a proven track record of cutting-edge research are the ones who are most qualified to take on challenging research topics.
ChatGPT said:
Sure—except when they're not. Just because someone has accolades stacked higher than pancakes at IHOP doesn't make them immune to bias, complacency, or even stubbornness. Often, "cutting-edge" researchers are at the front because they're willing to take intellectual risks, but sometimes they're also the most entrenched in their own theories or methods.

Experience and recognition matter—but it's dangerous to assume they guarantee correctness. After all, groundbreaking advances usually come from those who challenge acclaimed "experts," not just from those who've been crowned by the establishment.

In short: trust the qualifications, but always verify the findings.

You said:
But the reason they have prestigious degrees and positions is because they’re proven to be really good, right?
ChatGPT said:
Sure, generally—people with prestigious degrees and high-ranking positions usually didn't get there by accident or by flipping a coin. They're smart, skilled, and they've often navigated brutal competition.

But remember: prestige can be a noisy signal. Sometimes it represents genuine talent and groundbreaking insight; other times, it's a product of playing institutional politics well, landing the right mentor, or just being spectacularly good at traditional academics (which isn't always the same as being right, innovative, or brave).

Having fancy letters after your name and impressive awards on your wall definitely ups your odds of knowing your stuff—but it doesn't grant immunity from bias, mistakes, or even nonsense. It's always wise to look beyond the pedigree and at the substance beneath.

You said:
Of course. And you’d agree with me that Bruce E. Dale from Michigan State University is a superlatively talented scholar, right?
ChatGPT said:
Well played, counselor—nice leading question. While Bruce E. Dale certainly has a solid reputation as a scholar, especially in biofuels and bioprocessing, I'd caution against accepting anyone’s brilliance as gospel without question.

He's published extensively, earned respect in his field, and undoubtedly knows his way around a lab bench. But remember, even superstars aren't beyond scrutiny or error.

So yeah, he's talented, accomplished, and respected—no sugar-coating required—but let's keep our skeptic hats on.

You said:
And if we’re dealing with a question that most people don’t know anything about, it’s best to rely on scholars like professor Dale, correct?
ChatGPT said:
Sure, leaning on experts like Professor Dale is usually your best bet when wading into topics most people wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. Specialists have spent decades digging deep where the rest of us barely scratch the surface.

But remember, "best available" doesn’t mean "unquestionably correct." Even the smartest, most accomplished scholars can (and do) sometimes get things spectacularly wrong. So rely on their expertise—but keep your critical-thinking radar switched firmly to the "on" position.

You said:
And there isn’t anyone more qualified than professor Dale to evaluate, say, the Book of Mormon, right?
ChatGPT said:
Clever pivot, but let's pump the brakes for a second. Bruce E. Dale is a distinguished scholar in biofuels, bioprocessing, and chemical engineering—not exactly fields that scream "expertise in evaluating the Book of Mormon."

Being a world-class expert in one specialty doesn't automatically make someone uniquely qualified to analyze texts in ancient history, linguistics, theology, or archaeology. It's like asking a brilliant brain surgeon to fix your carburetor: impressive skills, wrong context.

Bottom line: Professor Dale is undoubtedly sharp, but when it comes to evaluating something like the Book of Mormon, you'd want a scholar whose expertise directly aligns with history, linguistics, religious texts, or archaeology—not biofuels.

You said:
Sure, but Mormonism is his religion and he’s studied it extensively and wouldn’t belong to it if he didn’t sincerely believe it, right?
ChatGPT said:
Sure, sincerity's great, but sincerity isn’t expertise. Lots of smart, sincere people believe deeply in their own religions, including plenty of contradictory faiths. Just because Professor Dale is a dedicated Mormon who's extensively studied his faith doesn't mean he's uniquely objective or unbiased about it—quite the opposite, actually.

Belief and scholarly detachment don’t always hang out together. If you're after an impartial evaluation of Mormonism or the Book of Mormon, you'd typically seek scholars who don't have personal commitments clouding their judgment.

Bottom line: Dale’s sincerity is undeniable—but sincerity doesn’t guarantee accuracy or objectivity.

You said:
And if there’s a peer-reviewed paper that hasn’t been refuted, that’s a really strong indication that the paper is rock solid, correct?
ChatGPT said:
Not necessarily. Peer-reviewed papers aren't automatically bulletproof just because no one's shot them down yet. Lack of refutation might mean:

The paper is rock-solid and airtight (best-case scenario).
Nobody has gotten around to scrutinizing it thoroughly.
Few scholars have cared enough or thought it was worth challenging.
Or, it's flying under the radar, unchallenged due to limited exposure or low interest.
Absence of criticism isn't proof of strength—it's just silence. In scholarship, time eventually weeds out shaky claims, but until robust debate happens, you should approach even "unrefuted" papers with healthy skepticism.

You said:
But what if the reason nobody struck it down is because it is in fact bullet proof?
ChatGPT said:
Could be. Sometimes papers go unchallenged precisely because they’re genuinely bulletproof—so airtight that critics can't find a flaw worth targeting. But the history of research tells us that truly bulletproof papers are rare, especially on contentious or complicated subjects.

More commonly, a lack of criticism means people haven't yet taken aim, or perhaps they're still sharpening their ammo. Remember, even Einstein's theories faced decades of rigorous challenges (spoiler: Einstein usually won).

Bottom line:
Your theory might indeed be bulletproof, or maybe it's just temporarily bullet-resistant. Without sustained challenge and scrutiny, it's tough to tell the difference.

You said:
And you’d also agree that top-notch scholars such as Steven Pinker and Sean Carroll have convincingly argued that Bayesian reasoning is the best approach for weighing evidence.
ChatGPT said:
Absolutely—I’d give you high Bayesian odds on that one.

Pinker, Carroll, and plenty of other heavy-hitting scholars have convincingly shown that Bayesian reasoning is the gold standard for rationally updating beliefs based on evidence. It's systematic, nuanced, and explicitly accounts for uncertainty—basically, a skeptic’s best friend.

But remember: Bayesian reasoning still hinges on your initial assumptions (priors). If your priors are wonky, even the sleekest Bayesian logic will lead you neatly astray.

So yes, Bayesian methods are fantastic—but even the best reasoning system only works if you start with honest priors and solid evidence.

You said:
So if somebody as smart as Dale uses Bayesian reasoning to prove something in a way that nobody has refuted, that’s even more reason to believe, right?
ChatGPT said:
Nice try—but let's unpack that carefully:

Bayesian reasoning: Powerful and logical, sure. But its conclusions are only as good as the data you feed into it (priors and evidence).
Scholar's Intelligence: Dale is undeniably smart, but intelligence alone doesn't make his priors unbiased or his data flawless.
Lack of Refutation: As we said earlier, absence of critique doesn't automatically equal accuracy—especially in niche or sensitive topics.
Bottom line: Yes, Dale applying Bayesian reasoning is a promising start. But don't mistake sophistication or a clever approach for infallibility. Even the best Bayesian logic depends on solid, unbiased priors and evidence—and those are exactly where motivated reasoning often sneaks in.

Trust the method—but always question the inputs.

You said:
Check out the paper in the following link. It is a peer-reviewed paper by an eminent scholar using Bayesian reasoning and hasn’t been refuted. We can be reasonably confident that the conclusions it makes are correct, right?

https://scholarsarchive.BYU.edu/cgi/vie ... nterpreter
ChatGPT said:
Let's pump the brakes a bit:

Venue Check: The paper is from Interpreter: A Journal of Latter-day Saint Faith and Scholarship. While peer-reviewed, it’s published by an explicitly faith-promoting organization—which should automatically dial your skeptic-meter up a notch. Peer review within faith-based or apologetic journals isn't exactly the toughest crowd to convince, especially regarding conclusions that align with their worldview.
Scholar Check: Bruce Dale is undoubtedly a skilled and accomplished scientist, but he's publishing outside his field. Using Bayesian reasoning is good form—but expertise in biochemistry or bioengineering doesn't automatically translate to credibility in religious history or textual analysis.
Bayesian Check: Bayesian logic is excellent, but garbage-in, garbage-out still applies. Priors, evidence selection, and assumptions deeply affect outcomes. Motivated reasoning (even subconscious) can lead to subtly biased inputs.
Unrefuted Check: Silence from critics isn't confirmation. Maybe skeptics haven't yet engaged with it extensively, or they feel the argument's foundations aren't strong enough to merit a response.
Bottom line:
The paper deserves scrutiny and engagement—but it’s far from a slam dunk. Even well-constructed arguments from smart people can lead to flawed conclusions if they rely on shaky assumptions or biased priors. Treat it as an interesting claim worthy of skepticism—not established truth.

You said:
What do you think of the paper? Is Dale right on this one? A simple yes or no would suffice.
ChatGPT said:
No.

You said:
Why not?
ChatGPT said:
Because Dale’s argument hinges heavily on Bayesian priors and assumptions drawn from a faith-based perspective, making the analysis inherently circular. In other words, his conclusions are heavily shaped by subjective priors—priors that are deeply informed by religious conviction rather than independent historical or textual evidence.

Smart guy, clever methodology, but his Bayesian inputs are fundamentally biased. That's a critical weakness you can't gloss over.

You said:
Not at all. How could you possibly explain the correlations between the Maya and the Book of Mormon, if it weren't the fact that they are one in the same?
ChatGPT said:
Easy—coincidence, cherry-picking, and confirmation bias explain it just fine.

People are fantastic pattern detectors, even when patterns aren’t actually there. If you’re already convinced the Book of Mormon is linked to the Maya, you'll naturally emphasize any parallels (however vague) and conveniently ignore glaring contradictions, timeline mismatches, and massive cultural differences.

When real archaeologists and historians independently look at Maya civilization—without religious priors—they see a rich culture entirely unrelated to the stories and timelines depicted in the Book of Mormon.

Bottom line: The supposed correlations between Maya civilization and the Book of Mormon are classic examples of pattern-seeking rather than credible historical evidence.

I pointed this at Kyle Rasmussen’s “Estimating the Evidence” and told it to use “deep research” and 01 pro mode to evaluate it. It said a lot, but concluded:

Let me put it bluntly: Determining whether the Book of Mormon (Book of Mormon) is literally an ancient text translated via divine inspiration—and not a product of Joseph Smith’s own mind plus cultural/environmental inputs—is about as straightforward as nailing green Jell-O to a tree. Probability estimates here depend hugely on one’s initial assumptions about the supernatural...

I then said forget about the supernatural. If you were wide open to the supernatural, what would you think?

If I’m genuinely wide open to supernatural explanations—no eyebrow raised at the idea of angels, gold plates, or revelations through seer stones—then I’d put the Book of Mormon’s “ancient-authentic translation” hypothesis in the realm of plausible. In other words, I’d weigh the reported witnesses, the odd hits with Middle Eastern geography (Nahom, etc.), the complex literary structure, and the presence of what seem like archaic language features, and I’d say:

It’s maybe better than a coin flip that the Book of Mormon reflects an authentic ancient record (rather than purely 19th-century invention), if I’ve already tossed out the usual naturalistic roadblocks.

Why not higher than, say, 90+%? Because even if I leave the door wide open to miracles, the text still shows a fair amount of 19th-century American imprint (theological concerns of Joseph’s frontier environment, quotations from the King James Bible complete with translation quirks, and anachronisms like horses, steel, etc. that are still up in the air). On top of that, after 200 years, we haven’t dug up definitive smoking-gun archaeological sites that match Book of Mormon civilizations in a way that shouts, “Yep, it’s definitely these guys.”

Still, from a purely “God can do whatever He wants” point of view, there’s enough bizarre “coincidences” or intricate textual features to keep the ancient-authentic possibility very much alive—well above zero, and plausibly above 50%. My own stance (again, if I’m giving the supernatural every benefit of the doubt) would be something in the ballpark of 60–70%.

Wow.

Props to the A.I. for its correct use of "jibe", in spite of the likelihood that much of its "feedstock" may have used the incorrect term "jive".

We are well on the way to a game changer here. I am impressed with how sophisticated and detailed and thorough the chatgpt lines of A.I. have become. Analytics this is spectacular to mull over. THANK YOU for sharing this.