Martin specializes in the philosophy of religion, though he has also published studies on the philosophies of science, law, and social science. He is the author or editor of numerous books, including Atheism: A Philosophical Justification (1989), The Case Against Christianity (1991), Atheism, Morality, and Meaning (2002), The Impossibility of God (2003), The Improbability of God (2006), and The Cambridge Companion to Atheism (2006). He sits on the editorial board of the philosophy journal, Philo.
PERSONAL VIGNETTESWho is Mike Martin?
Michael Martin is a dutiful father of two, a proud grandfather of four, a happily married man of nearly fifty years, a contented retired philosophy professor, an author of many obscure but profound books and articles, a tough but mild mannered ex-Marine, the strongest man at Brookhaven, the oldest graduate of ImprovBoston’s five level forty week program, a founding member of New Tricks (an improv troupe of people over the age of 50) and a modest, self-effacing mensch. He is spending his golden years working out in the Fitness Room, honing his improv skills, defending atheism, and finishing a science fiction novel about a 23th century sport called Weight Running.The Most Interesting Place I Ever Lived: The Big Mo To me, a restless 17 year old, Cincinnati was Dullesville. The most interesting thing that had happened in months at Western Hills, my High School, was that Don Zimmer had thrown another touchdown pass. Big Deal! Hell everyone knew Zimmer never missed! The most interesting thing that had happened on my street, Sumpter Ave, in months was that Lampe's collie had driven away a dog twice her size who had strayed onto her turf. Hell everyone knew Lassie never lost a fight! Small wonder that I dropped out of school and joined the Marine Corps. After becoming a tough Jarhead at Parris Island, and then a spit and polish sea going Marine at Sea, School I found myself aboard the USS Missouri. Interesting is an understatement! The Big Mo was The Pride of the Fleet, the place where Japan surrendered. It was a floating city the length of three football fields with a crew of nearly three thousand. The battleship contained nine 16 inch 50 mm cannons that could propel shells more than 20 miles. And to make matters even more interesting, a few months after I came aboard, the Pride of the Fleet became the Shame of the Fleet: it went aground near the entrance to Chesapeake Bay and was extracted by one of the largest naval salvage operations in history. The most absurd aspect of this operation was that the Navy attempted to free the Big Mo by "sallying ship." We - the entire crew - were commanded to run back and forth from the starboard side to the port side in a futile effort to rock a ship with a displacement of 45,000 tons loose from the shoals.