This blog entry (and its sequelae) seems to have caused a far bigger stir than I intended. Some people seem to have been offended by it. Given that, what follows is an edit of the original, removing or moderating the bits that people found most objectionable, and which I probably did not express as judiciously as I might have done. I also offer my apologies, and should add that this edit is unprompted by any authority other than my own remorse. Some of the people I hurt were my friends.
Someone once sent me a postcard on whose obverse face was written
GUIDE TO WORLD RELIGIONS
Taoism – Shit Happens;
Buddhism – Shit Happens, but it Isn’t Really Shit;
Hinduism – This Shit has Happened Before;
Islam; If Shit Happens, it is the Will of Allah;
Catholicism; If Shit Happens, it is Because You Deserve It;
Protestantism: May Shit Happen to Someone Else;
Judaism; Why Does Shit Always Happen To Us?
Conspicuous in this list, by its absence, is atheism, and in this post I shall try to ask why.
I’ve often tried to articulate my objections to the current vogue for militant scientific atheism (as opposed to atheism in general), but compared with this lucid article by John Gray (kindly pointed out to me by a couple of correspondents), anything I might ever write looks as elegant and imprecise as trying to peel bananas while wearing boxing gloves. So I should point you to Gray’s article instead.
Gray spells out why, in his view, scientific atheism is an ersatz religion, whose practitioners have, in the past, been likened to clergy, or worse: caricatures of clergy. More deeply, it shows how it is based on an outdated Whiggish notion of progress.
Gray also alludes to the proselytizing nature of militant atheism, drawing parallels with those creeds that see a millennial mission in the conquest of the entire world by their world view. Sealed up in their own view that they are right, adherents of such crereds see absolutely no point in even considering what anyone else might have to say.
The uncompromising stance of militant atheism, which goes hand in hand of outmoded historical notions of progress and manifest destiny, also sees science as something that can – and will – solve everything, when the truth is that human knowledge is a tiny speck in a vast ocean of ignorance, some of whose unknowns will, in Rumsfeldian terms, might remain forever unknowable. In fact, human knowledge gets relatively smaller even as it increases, given that every piece of research offers up more problems to solve. The attitude that science is a monolithic steamroller that crushes ever smaller pockets of ignorance in a kind of zero-sum game is, in my opinion, wrong.
Sometimes people have nowhere to turn but whatever it is they call their God. Without God, how can solace be achieved?
This struck me on 17 March as I listened to Thought for the Day, the God Spot on BBC Radio 4’s flagship Today programme. The Rev Alan Billings noted. “We live in a society that essentially believes that the way we acquire meaning for ourselves is through activity – doing things, giving shape to things,” he writes:
“But activism has a down-side. It tricks us into thinking we can control everything. Then we lose the capacity for dealing with those situations where nothing further can be done – those calamities that can make achievement seem meaningless or absurd. As a parish priest I have often seen good people brought to despair in the face of something they could not influence – the dementia of a loved one, their own wasting illness, the death of a child. And when the art of coping has not been learnt, denial has often been the means of escape from pain. Then when reality has to be faced, there comes despair and that awful feeling that God has abandoned us or is just not there. A culture of activism is not very good at dealing with defeats. We find sickness and dying very, very difficult.”
One of the jobs of religion is to remind us of life’s limitations – that all things are not possible, no matter how hard one tries, and sometimes we have to learn to accept this. In scientific terms, I’d characterize this as adopting a necessary humility before the evidence.
“But because Christianity sees God in this suffering man [Christ]” continues Billings, “we understand also that in the worst that can befall us, God is not absent but comes close. This is the very heart of the Christian faith. Not the assertion of God’s sovereignty over us but the gospel of his solidarity with us. For how else except by keeping company with us could he succour us in our defeats?”
Now, I am not going to talk about whether the Turin Shroud is real or if the Resurrection is physically believable. In any case, I’m Jewish, which tells me two things – that shit happens frequently and even to the nicest people; and that John Polkinghorne would have had a far easier time of it had he written Belief in God in an Age of Science from the Progressive Jewish perspective, in which he wouldn’t have got so hung up on the more challenging aspects of the Incarnation.
But I digress: in my view the answer to both the above questions (the authenticity of the Turin shround and the physical possibility of the Resurrection, remember? Do keep up, there, at the back) is ‘no’, but that’s not the point, which is as follows. That some scientists just doen’t seem to understand that religion works by allusive myth-making rather than assertions of physical fact.
It matters not whether God is a bearded geezer floating on a cloud with a harp; a Flying Spaghetti Monster; or even if we cannot know or even guess that he exists at all; or even if the notion of God as a single unique divine entity is rejected as a primitive and outmoded notion – for us to derive comfort in distress. Even if we are in fact talking to ourselves, it does us good to imagine that we have company_.
“In direst straits, atheists have nowhere to turn but the own essential nothingness of their nihilist pseudo-religion, which, it’s fair to say, offers strictly nothing at all in the way of solace […] It matters not whether God is a bearded geezer floating on a cloud with a harp; a Flying Spaghetti Monster; or even if we cannot know or even guess that he exists at all; or even if the notion of God as a single unique divine entity is rejected as a hopelessly primitive and outmoded notion – for us to derive comfort in distress. Even if we are in fact talking to ourselves, it does us good to imagine that we have company.”
Henry, with respect the above makes me wonder whether you actually know any real-life atheists. I’m not talking about the extremists who write the books, but us ordinary people who just don’t happen to believe in any gods.
Yes, shit happens. All the time, to good people as well as bad. And yes, it’s tough to deal with. I don’t believe I’ll see the recently deceased friend of my family in the afterlife, and that’s a depressing thought. So how do I deal with it? Not by imagining that I’m not alone. I know I’m not alone. I have friends and family. And those of them who also knew this friend will join with me in keeping his memory alive. We’ve already shared our fond memories of how he was the life and soul of that birthday party, and how great he was with his kids.
Shared humanity is enough to pick me up and remind me that although shit happens, this is a beautiful world and we have to make the most of the short time we have.
We’re not all militants!
You seem a bit fundamentalist about atheists, Henry. It actually is possible to be atheist — and furthermore to be a scientist who is atheist — while at the same time also being non-aggressive, non-proselytizing, non-triumphalist, non-arrogant, and non-intolerant of other people’s religious beliefs (did I miss any adjectives?). It is also possible to be comfortable with the potential of finite existence without a spiritual being to take comfort in.
Is there room for this possibility in your world view?
@Cath – the link you give says it all. PZ Myers is fairly fundamental and stridently anti-religion. I chatted with Paul at SciFoo last year and asked him quite why he was so miltant. His response was clear – that in the US, anyone who declares themself an atheist effectively bars themself from standing from political office. Shit happens. But that’s no excuse to damn religion or those who feel themselves to be religious.
@Jenny. There used to be, but there isn’t any more. The reason is that I find myself living and working in a milieu (the world of science and science communication) that’s increasingly antagonistic to mine, whipped into a Dawkinsian frenzy, it seems. I find myself increasingly isolated in a so-called liberal intelligentsia that’s increasingly bigoted and closed-minded — and the tragedy is that scientific atheism is based on illogic and misconceptions about the nature of science. I think my blog is pretty clear on that, and John Gray’s article is even clearer.
@ Both: why shouldn’t I be as strident in my views as PZ or Dawkins are in theirs? Is it because you’d rather my views weren’t expressed? Or is it because I have identified points that you find uncomfortable?
Nope – none of your points makes feel uncomfortable, because your description of athiests (not some atheists, as far as I can interpret from your post, but all atheists) completely jars with my own behavior and that of a large subset of my atheist scientist friends. So feel free to be strident and offensive and tar an entire, diverse group of people with the same damning brush, but don’t be surprised if those you’ve got completely wrong feel the urge to respectfully and politely point out that you’re wrong about them.
I don’t mind if you trash the Dawkinses of this world, but assuming that we’re all like him is a bit odd. To say nothing of rather unscientific.
Henry – the problem is that you’re making the same mistakes as Dawkins and PZed. You’re painting with a broad brush, in a way many atheists will find insulting.
By all means be strident – even as an atheist, I’m happy to see someone challenge Dawkins effectively. But please don’t mis-represent us.
One of the big problems with this debate is that many of the voices on both sides are polarising the issue. I don’t think that’s a good move politically – better to make a bid for the middle ground, by pointing out that some atheists are fundamentalist, just as some followers of various deities are also fundamentalist. But there are a lot of us sat here in the middle who just want to get on with each other.
And anyway, we all know that Ceiling Cat iz teh won wot pwns uz.
What Jennifer said!
I’m not at all uncomfortable with your points, I just don’t recognise myself in them at all. I do recognise some militant atheists whose work I’ve read. But not myself. Did you hear me damn religion or those who feel themselves to be religious? No.
I read all the atheist blogs and I can see how someone in your position could feel in a state of seige. And of course everyone is entitled to express their views, no matter how strident. But I think you’ve constructed a strawman out of the most extreme and militant tendencies of the most extremist, militant atheists you’ve encountered. It’s like the people who use the Crusades and Inquisition as arguments against religion – the extremes don’t define Christians and Moslems, just as Dawkins et al. don’t define atheists.
I’m an atheist, but it doesn’t define me. I’ll talk about it to people who seem interested, but I have several life-long friends who were actually quite surprised when my Dad said that I’m an atheist in his speech at my wedding. I’m not militant, I don’t proselytize. I’m just a normal person.
Jenny wrote: It actually is possible to be atheist—and furthermore to be a scientist who is atheist—while at the same time also being non-aggressive, non-proselytizing, non-triumphalist, non-arrogant, and non-intolerant of other people’s religious beliefs … Is there room for this possibility in your world view?
I shall try to make myself clear. I never felt like this until Dawkins came along. It used to be very easy to keep one’s science at work and one’s religion at home. Then Dawkins came along and told us that science was in fact a kind of religion, and that religious people were guilty of all manner of terrible crimes; that religion itself was the biggest crime of the lot; and that he would pay no attention if religious people found this view insulting (not to say simple-minded).
And people believed him. I found colleagues – and friends – ‘coming out’ as atheists and parroting every risible statement from The God Delusion. These weren’t drooling fundamentalists, but people whom I thought were entirely normal and reasonable. If it is the case that I am damning an entire religion (atheism) by attacking its more extreme and vocal adherents, why haven’t we seen a mass of moderate atheists speaking out and telling Dawkins sto sit down and shut up? Why does The God Delusion continue to be a bestseller?
And why does nobody ever answer the questions I repeatedly raise that scientific atheism is a contradiction in terms?
When under siege, people can adopt strange tactics.
So feel free to be strident and offensive and tar an entire, diverse group of people with the same damning brush
You see, this is exactly what PZ Myers and his camp-followers do, and, for one, I understand Henry’s frustration. You are holding Henry to a higher standard than them, which is excusable in the circumstances, I guess, but it’s very instructive.
I’m certain (really) there are atheists who are non-whatever:
just as there are Christians who despise Creationism/ID, Jews who are progressive, Mohammedans who don’t want to blow themselves up.
None of these groups is homogeneous. We all need to understand that.
And we all need to realize that one’s belief system is (or should be) about as relevant to the practice of science as the choice of one’s sexual partner, or eye colour.
Unfortunately, moderates of all stripes do tend to make up a silent majority, leaving the vocal minorities to battle it out while we get on with the serious business of watching ice hockey and playing poker (tonight’s activities).
I object to the term ‘moderate’, but yes – you’re absolutely right.
(This is me, getting caught in the crossfire. . .)
I agree with Henry. I would probably not have put it so strongly – I would probably not have brought it up at all! :)
It is very important that science remains a place where it is safe to be religious; and it is important for the gentle-atheist to be genuinely respectful. Be careful about saying things that mean:
“Religion does not make sense.”
“You cannot be a true scientist and truly believe in a God-who-cares-personally.”
“While I don’t respect your religion, I respect you.”
The reason that I think that this is important (and of course I am generalising here) is that while atheists may not define themselves by their atheism, for a religious person, their belief/philosophy/heritage is an integral, defining part of who they are.
At the moment, I don’t identify myself with a religion, and I have difficulty believing that a god would care either way what happened to us. But, this state is not one that makes me happy. The moments of despair at the meaninglessness of our existence are very real. I don’t mean this to be melodramatic or “emotional” – I am merely acknowledging that Henry’s comments regarding the negative consequences of atheism have some truth.
Like Cath, though, I am now going to go play something else! Perhaps Debussy, followed by a bit of yoga.
Interesting points Bronwen!
“It is very important that science remains a place where it is safe to be religious”
I agree 100%. It should be safe to be religious or not, heterosexual or not, left or right wing, even (gasp!) a Man Utd fan. These things shouldn’t affect your success in any career.
“and it is important for the gentle-atheist to be genuinely respectful. Be careful about saying things that mean:
“Religion does not make sense.””
The thing is, to me, it doesn’t. But neither do quantum physics or string theory. I’m lacking the right gene or something. Is it really disrespectful to state that religion does not make sense to me? I would be lying if I said anything else, and it would essentially be impossible for me to discuss my beliefs at all without touching on this. (Please understand that I would never say this in a confrontational way, just as a statement that ‘this is true for me but I realise that it might not be true for you’). Most people who I’ve had this conversation with have seen it as an opportunity to open a discussion.
In my experience, this kind of conversation occurs with friends or family in a pub, never at work. I would actively avoid getting into this kind of conversation with (most of) my colleagues. The same goes for politics. (How would a vocal right winger fare in science do you think?).
“The reason that I think that this is important (and of course I am generalising here) is that while atheists may not define themselves by their atheism, for a religious person, their belief/philosophy/heritage is an integral, defining part of who they are.”
And therein lies the problem. Every time anyone makes even the gentlest criticism of religion, the religisonists take it personally and will not understand it is not meant personally. I know, like and admire many religious people but I still think their beliefs are wrong. But if I point that out, they get all huffy and puffy (like you, Henry, in this post) because they so thoroughly identify with their religion – they are incapable of analyzing it dispassionately. That is why atheists need to do it for them. And if they feel insulted, it’s their problem – perhaps you need to feel it. We are insulted by religion daily, they can try to take it every once in a while. And God Delusion is inordinately polite and silk-gloved treatment of religion, except for those who identify with it too strongly. And now, someone will find this cold, analytic words insulting, I know.
I try not to get into religious wars on my blog, as religion is not something I care much about, but here is an old post you may like to read.
http://scienceblogs.com/clock/2006/06/i_coturnix_or_why_i_am_an_athe.php
Here’s my equivalent post
For people who seem to be agreeing with me that belief doesn’t make a lot of difference to the doing of science by reasonable people, you don’t half seem to be getting worked up about it.
As for the Gray article, PZ has done a very good, calm and thorough job dissecting it
Richard, I think the problem is that that’s the only point on which we do all agree! There are all kinds of other things to argue about here. I’m enjoying myself thoroughly, but there are some beers and poker chips with my name on them (temporarily anyway) and I must depart. See you tomorrow!
I think we all agree that religious people can be good scientists. Even the loudest atheists probably agree on this. And I do not like the conflation of science (which is a job) and religion (which is a belief). You can do a good job no matter what you believe. And if your science is good, hats off to you. But that does not make your irrational beliefs immune from criticism.
My beliefs are perfectly rational, thank you very much. Yours seem irrational to me.
See?
Unicorns?
You can all see what Bora has done here. He has conflated a thoughtful, reasoned (over many years) belief with one that says there are fairies at the bottom of the garden. This bypasses an untold amount of philosophical and theological discussion, with a single, simple-minded and ignorant comment.
And it is precisely that to which I, personally, object (can’t speak for Henry, but I would imagine his response might be similar). Dawkins, PZ; they are guilty of spouting un-informed, ignorant tosh, much of which seems precisely calculated not to inform or educate, but to offend. And if you (‘general’ you) find that statement offensive, then it might be a good idea to analyse why.
This is not the place for it, but I would be quite happy to discuss why I think (yes, think; there are reasons for it) my faith is ‘rational’ (it’s as irrational as atheism, in a world where the only ‘rational’ option is agnosticism).
I’ll say one thing more in this thread.
Henry, I think you are wrong in your treatment of atheists. They can not all be tarred with the same brush. As Jenny says elsewhere,
I want to broach this subject from this point: “Sometimes people have nowhere to turn but whatever it is they call their God.”
If atheists believe (or hold to the train of thought) that they are not zombies, but have consciousness, then that consciousness cannot have derived from a larger source of consciousness, but from the physical world. Otherwise, they would not be atheists. Thus, an atheist in “direst straits” can only turn to either the physical world, or other people who either are or are not zombies themselves—but in the end, even if they are conscious beings, they also are derived from the physical world. Thus, a dead end. Now, maybe anyone’s life is so short that this is enough, that the dead end never gets reached for some. Possible, but this has nothing to do with whether the argument maybe extend further.
I am not going to use the term “religion”, because this can represent an organization, whether good or bad. I will talk about the mystic instead, the person who lives and experiences both the physical world that the atheist accepts (and thus qualifies as well to be a scientist), but who does not view the primary experience of life, the consciousness that makes us non-zombies, as being derived from the physical. Either because there is nothing physical about it, or just as an atheist may be in a prolonged thought experiment, so may a mystic. There is nothing in the physical world that can prove or disprove that the physical world has anything to do with the mystical one, nor vice versa.
Whether there is a dualism (the mystic versus the physical), harmony (the physical deriving from the mystic, vice verse, or separate but in tandem), or simply the zombie physical, everyone agrees that there is a physical world to behold, and to study if one so chooses. Yet, only zombies can deny that there is a realm of consciousness, and thus have a net zero of mystical experience in their lives. Here again, everyone may do scientific research on the physical world. And just as it is unfair that a declared atheist would have a difficult time being a politician, it possibly more unfair that a mystic be precluded from any of the sciences, that scientific atheism be allowed any political power in institutions of higher learning. You show me an atheist who can solve the problems of crime, the economy, and war, and she will have my vote. Give me an Shinto mystic with a gift for curing cancer, and everyone stay out of his way.
Psychology is so-called, in order that it be the study of the psyche, the soul. Freud said there was an id there, plus an ego, and a superego. Assagioli, my favorite, said to think of it as an egg with higher and lower reaches, but wherein most of us only live in the middle areas. Geniuses like Plato live in a higher awareness, their centers in a higher location. Mozart was average but could be inspired by these high regions. Jung told us to consider a collective unconscious that we all share, and synchronicity with it. But did any of this cure anything? So along comes Skinner who has us study, not the psyche or soul, but behavior. Back to the physical, something a scientist can rap her most solid hypotheses around. They call it behavior modification, and have even tagged a branch onto it called cognitive behavior modification, or cognitive psychology.
The problem with this black hole of science, is that it can give the scientists the illusion that nothing is to be known until a scientist says it’s known, even though, of course, it’s all theory anyway. When not considered in perspective, it causes the cells of scientific atheism to proliferate like weeds into social circles where it does not belong. This leaves no room for the healthy idea that there is a consciousness to being a human being, our primary, not our physical experience. Without ever arguing, or ever being able to argue with the mystic, the scientist from her big black realm yells out that the mystic must be wrong in his, that there really is nowhere to turn.
No, it is not a conflation. There is no difference between a belief in God and a belief in Unicorns. They are both beliefs in things that do not exist and are thus, by definition, not rational beliefs. The only difference is that the age and popularity of one made it possible to put up defenses, i.e., when questioned, the response is insulted anger. The problem with religion is that it is verbotten to criticize it because its practitioners are so sensitive – one wonders why? Why should we treat belief in God with respect and belief in Unicorns not? They are both equally laughable. I hope that being laughed at, as much as it may dismay some, will make some others, hopefully young ones, rethink and reanalyze their beliefs. “Why are they laughing at me? Perhaps what I said really is as ridiculous as they say. Let me think about it.” That is how many lose the shackles of religion. They would not if they were never laughed at.
Thanks, everyone, for joining in (nice to see you in this thread too, Bora!) I was going to write a lot more but I see other people have done it for me while I was sleeping, so thanks again!
Brownwen’s comment sums up a lot of my unease, when she writes
The reason that I think that this is important (and of course I am generalising here) is that while atheists may not define themselves by their atheism, for a religious person, their belief/philosophy/heritage is an integral, defining part of who they are.
Exactly. Religion does define who you are, which is why people (including atheists) make such a fuss about it. I have indeed been the recipient of comments such as "“While I don’t respect your religion, I respect you.” My response is to challenge it by asking precisely the form of this disrespect. Is it confined to modishly antiosemitic comments at dinner parties or does it extend to desecration of synagogues? The atheist will then get huffy and puffy and demand apologies – when in fact it is I who have been insulted.
Cath Ennis writes that in times of dire need, a person, atheist or religious, will find solace among their friends and relations. Well, of course they do – that’s only human, thank goodness. But sometimes people have no friends or relations, no help, no money, no prospect of relief. This goes on all the time – those of us who have the luxury of commenting here may not have experienced it. But whether it’s in the streets of Gaza or the Warsaw Ghetto or the barrios of Rio, you can bet that people in extremis will find God.
There’s an alternative, of course, which is as you say to “imagine that we have company”, but to be honest with ourselves about the fact that it is imaginary.
It means taking the useful bits of religion – the community, the familiarity of ritual, the prayerful meditation – all the while acknowledging openly that “God” is simply a social construct we humans have made to help us approach the larger, unmeasurable intangibles of life. God as an anthropomorphic personification rather than a actual person.
Just because there isn’t actually an animated skeleton walking round in a robe with a scythe, that doesn’t mean that it can’t be helpful in some ways to imagine Death as an independent entity – it makes the unknowable more knowable and thus less threatening. Similarly, just because there isn’t actually an old man with a big beard sitting in a corner knitting new creatures out of DNA, or pushing the planets round the sky, that doesn’t mean it can’t be useful to talk about God – or even pledge yourself to serve God. If we define God as the personification of truth and love, then saying you will serve God is the same as saying you will seek out truth and find ways to love people – a sentiment everyone can share.
If you like, it’s a form of pantheism – God is in everyone and everything, rather than being a separate entity. Alternatively, it’s a shell game we play with words to help ourselves deal with life’s complexity. Either way, it works.
Bora – I wrote my last comment before I was aware of your last comment: we must have crossed in the blogosphere. Sorry about that. I’d like to address the points you make in it.
There is no difference between a belief in God and a belief in Unicorns.They are both beliefs in things that do not exist and are thus, by definition, not rational beliefs.
There is one (at least) difference betwen God and unicorns. Whereas we know that unicorns don’t exist (or, if we don’t, we can devise a rational, experimental strategy to establish that knowledge) we cannot know that God exists. Faith in God is taken on trust, without certain knowledge of God’s existence. Strictly, science deals in provisionals, hypotheses and theories, not in certainties. Thi is why Dawkins’ idea that you can treat the existence of God as a scientific hypothesis is a categorical error, which, in my view, undermines the entire basis of The God Delusion. I’d go further – The God Delusion represents a fundamental misunderstanding of what science is all about, as well as representing a very naive view of the nature of God. As much as the picture is appealing, God need not be a concrete, finite entity, like Morgan Freeman in Evan Almighty. That’s a very childlike picture of God. Even the Old Testament Yahweh was more complex than that. But Dawkins and his acolytes do not seem to recognize this. You also use the word ‘belief’ very freely, and qualify it with the word ‘rational’. Belief in unicorns might be defensible and rational, given that there are ways to test this belief rationally. But belief in God most definitely is not rational, for the reasons I have stated concerning the nature of certainty.
The only difference is that the age and popularity of one made it possible to put up defenses, i.e., when questioned, the response is insulted anger. The problem with religion is that it is verbotten to criticize it because its practitioners are so sensitive – one wonders why?
The reason is that people tend to define themselves according to their religious beliefs, so an attack on one’s religion is invariably taken very personally. This is why the atheist mantra of ‘I respect you, but not your beliefs’ is in itself insulting, because it shows that the person making such comments has very little understanding of the nature of religious belief.
Why should we treat belief in God with respect and belief in Unicorns not?
I think that they should both be treated with respect, frankly. We scientists should be able to adopt unorthodox points of view and expect the unexpected: belief in unicorns might turn out to justified. Who’d have expected the existence of Homo floresiensis? Yet it was the biggest science story of 2004 and challenged our core beliefs of the nature and uniqueness of humanity.
I hope that being laughed at, as much as it may dismay some, will make some others, hopefully young ones, rethink and reanalyze their beliefs.
Although laughter is sometimes seen as the enemy of faith, it should not be. If a person’s faith is so fragile that it is damaged by a joke, then one can ask legitimate questions about the strength of that faith. I remain Jewish despite enjoying Monty Python’s Life of Brian, which I regard as something of a documentary. I think that what people don’t like is being laughed at by people who take no trouble to understand the nature of their belief with anything more than the comprehension or application of a teenager, nor take trouble to explore the other person’s point of view. That, rather than the insults themselves, was what was so insulting about The God Delusion – the view that religious people were credulous and stupid, simply for being religious.
This is a fun ping-pong match. It’s pleasant to see people disagreeing in a cordial manner.
I am an atheist with respect for religious thought. I think that it is possible to contemplate spiritual matters from a philosophical standpoint and still without faith in a supernatural being. As an atheist, I would adopt the simple Taoist “shit happens”. Why add more?
Background matters in that one’s religious baggage (and atheists have that baggage as much as anyone else) is a filter that colors all such philosophical perspectives. My personal baggage, acquired first from my family and second from the region in which I grew up, has enabled me to study a number of world religions in the few countries in which I have lived; enough I hope to take a meta-view and see interesting merits to a number of theologies with which I am currently acquainted.
In that article you cite, Henry, Gray writes “Pullman has stated that his atheism was formed in the Anglican tradition”… My contention is that all of our atheisms are formed in various traditions, and that it is not easy to separate cultural from religious influence. Religions /are/ cultures to a great extent.
It seems legitimate to be a “scientific atheist” if you admit the existence of a “scientific culture” – the difference from one lab to another, within and between countries, of how to approach commonly defined problems. What happens after you die, and how to accommodate the fact that shit happens, are commonly defined problems all across humanity. Scientists are human, too; we’ll not get around it.
I don’t consider that is an arrogant point of view. I found solace after losing my mother to cancer a little over a year ago, not just by “pulling myself together”, but by contemplating (and implementing) different traditions of how to come to terms with death. I personally do not need the concept of a God to find comfort in purely human cultural traditions. I have been personally near death twice. I am not afraid of death. (Not crazy about dying, though). I contend that the pervasive need of supernatural beings for most humans stems from fear of death.
By the way, Henry, what is your rational, experimental strategy to disprove the existence of unicorns? Out of curiosity.
Hi Heather. Your discussion about atheisms of different traditions was interesting. Jonathan Freedland (who writes for The Guardian and The Jewish Chronicle) once wrote that it’s perfectly possible to be an atheist Jew, and almost possible to be an atheist Catholic. As for uniorns, my strategy would be to look behind every tree and under every bush on Earth until you (don’t) find one. Though it’s hard, admittedly, to prove a negative. As of now I’d say that the chances of finding a unicorn are very slim, though were one to actually find one, it might be hard to recognize it for what it is: see Borges’ essay Kafka And His Precursors.
Come to think of it – this is related in a way to the discussion the other day on placebo effects and antidepressants.
Assuming for a moment that the atheist perspective is right and that there is no God, that does not mean religion is useless, only that it is baseless. Placebos can have very strong effects even in the absence of any pharmacologically active ingredient.
But if we take religion as some kind of “psychological placebo”, the logical next step is to examine how and why it works. What is “God”, where is it found, and how can it heal the sick in mind and the distressed. The atheist scientist would see this as an enquiry into the nature of belief. The theologian would see it as an equiry into the nature of God. I’m not convinced this is anything more than a difference in terminology.
Just about the only thing science allows us to reject is the “God of the gaps” – supernatural explanations for material phenomena – but then again, much of theology also rejects that sort of God. As Henry puts it, “religion works by allusive myth-making rather than assertions of physical fact”.
Hi Peter,
The problem is going to be that science has done very poorly in finding anything outside the physical world. You may be pointing at an ambitious development for future scientists to tackle, however. But from the evidence we have, this will not be accomplished in our lifetime.
On the unicorn joke attempt.
The myth of the unicorn places it in the woods. You cannot be outside this “box” and look for unicorns. That’s the point. Anyone who would liken the search for God to a search for a unicorn is personifying his place in the myth, he would be looking for God in all the wrong places (see the Waylon Jenning’s song).
Schrödinger’s unicorn. Or, if I assert that a unicorn that doesn’t want to be found would not be hiding behind trees or bushes, but that they have the possibility of perfect camouflage using any detection technique available (based on sensory information), it would be hard to even disprove my assertion, much less their existence. Anyhow, I have had two kids; I would be disqualified from even making an investigation. ;-)
Maybe I could be considered as disqualified to make an investigation into the existence of a divinity by not having faith? However, Nietzsche wasn’t, off the top of my head.
A couple of proselytizers came to my door (in France) last week. When I told them politely that they could conserve their paper pamphlets, as I was a Jewish atheist, they stared at me blankly for a couple of moments. “I didn’t know there was any such thing.” I found that comic. “As much as for any other religion. Have a pleasant day.” Maybe it will give them food for thought? My in-laws have a hard time understanding why I like some cultural appartenances of belief systems and still profess to be atheist. As I have other things to do than to convert people to my convictions, we remain on a “live and let live” basis. That’s fine by me.
@Peter: you’re right — it’s perfectly possible for scientists to study the effects of belief even if it is not possible to study the Object of Contemplation directly. Indeed, I gave a link to such a story in my original post – here it is again.
@Heather: Schrodinger’s Unicorn, indeed. That’s why I said it’s hard to prove a negative. I have two kids, too, who manage to be practicing Jews as well as devotees of both Darwin and Father Christmas (who is a Macroscopic Quantum Object as any fule kno. My light-hearted article on this was, naturally, completely misconstrued by at least one of the legions of the atheist undead who took it as evidence that I actually believe Santa really exists. Really, there’s one born every minute.
In answer to your more serious question: Maybe I could be considered as disqualified to make an investigation into the existence of a divinity by not having faith? I don’t think it makes any difference whether you have faith or not, because the question is itself not answerable. Either you believe in God, or you don’t. The nature of God, irrespective of God’s existence, is another matter (and much more interesting), but atheists don’t usually get as far as that, being hung up on the existence question.
Why would we be assuming that proving God is proving a negative?
The scientists of yore have already figured out the repeatable experiment for this. You get a bunch of scientists in a room, and each prays, asking God sincerely to enter his or her life. They then meet weekly and share whether and how this God has worked in their lives, sometimes even sharing experiences in corridors and such. Some may understand, then, how unicorns have come about, the particular mysitcal experiences that a unicorn can stand for.
We could also pick up the ball from William James who was categorizing the “Varieties of Religious Experience”. He was not a mystic himself, but worked objectively.
I think there is a place for strident atheists like PZ Myers or Richard Dawkins despite the flak they receive from many atheists. Their prominence provides valuable emotional support to people who doubt religion but feel alone in a society steeped with religious messages. This may not be appreciated here but there are still places where coming out as an atheist could be a death sentence.
As for arrogance, who is more arrogant, an atheist who believes he is descended from apes or a religious guy who believes he is created in the image of an infallible God?
Welcome back, Rus.
I don’t think I am a zombie, myself.
There are some ideas that could be better developed, but that are provocative, supporting a physical expression of consciousness and our individual sense of self, in Douglas Hofstadter’s “I am a Strange Loop”. I was particularly struck by the image I had upon reading this, of what other philosophers have qualified as an “immortal” soul being the propagation of as much of a person’s self as has been retained by popular memory (and/or can be recalled by eg. their production of art, literature, music, quilts and so forth). Over time, the ripples get further from their source and less similar to the original person, but it is a form of survival after death nonetheless, separating the physicality of the body from the effect the person has had on those who knew (of) them while alive. The effect is translated into eg. the modification of synapses in each person in contact with that memory. A physical person is simultaneously an abstract concept (and a self-referential feedback loop, but that’s another story). No supernatural explanation needed, no retribution or justice, either.
Back from my aside, Rus, how can you expect to carry out the experiment you propose with self-professed atheists? It is as if I asked you to pray sincerely to Quetzalcóatl; you might pretend to do it for the sake of argument, but you would only be “sincere” if you already believed.
My premise is that I have not yet encountered a situation, an idea or a physical part of the universe that requires invocation of any gods to explain it. This does not mean I can not be in awe of any of the above, feel humble or enjoy fantasy of all sorts.
Oh, and Henry, what’s the nature of that unicorn in which you don’t believe? Anything goes if you start from the outset by professing to define something imaginary. So I could certainly discuss the nature of a hypothetical god, but it might lack some – sincerity?
(Sorry for the multiple comments, things come slowly to mind and the finger is quick to click).
It makes for a fine novel though; check out American Gods by Neil Gaiman if you aren’t taking the conversation too much to heart.
Hi Heather,
I have read Hofstatdter and you abstract him well, and make your point.
“My premise is that I have not yet encountered a situation, an idea or a physical part of the universe that requires invocation of any gods to explain it.”
This is precisely my premise as well. If you keep looking at the physical world, you might as well be looking at zombies. You must look at the spiritual, or the mystic instead.
One step further, though. I say that that physical world we behold and share is not our primary existence. Our consciousness is. At best, the physical world represents for present practical purposes a medium through which we may converse such as we are doing here. No physical world, no internet, simple. Other than that, no one can prove it is anything more than a really trippy dream, a dream that scientists are trying to get to the bottom of before they either disappear from it, or awaken from it.
Bear in mind, I am not here to prove anything. On the other hand, no one can postulate probabilities either, such that there is probably no God, or probably some God. On this, here is a poem I wrote:
“Blue Luge”http://clatterymachinery.wordpress.com/2006/12/14/blue-luge/
Now, about that experiment. If everyone says the water is warm, but it seems that the water is too cold to jump into, the only way anyone can truly prove it to you, no matter what they say, is if you dive in. Maybe you never will. And you can have fun on the beach anyway, maybe even more fun that others who are in the water.
However, just as the lack of belief in God that you hold to is unprovable, so is the belief that others hold to. Essentially all that believers can say is to jump in.
Oh, I need a colon:
Blue Luge
.
I’m surprised that nobody has noticed that there is an item missing from Henry’s original list, i.e.:
Rastafarian: Let’s smoke this shit.
Conspicuous in this list, by its absence, is atheism, and in this post I shall attempt an explanation – that atheists dare not even contemplate the Manifestation of Excrement, for if they did, they would have no way to cope with it. They’d be on their own, with nothing between them and … nothingness
And from that his opening statement:
Atheist: No shit.
Rus Bowden gets The End of the Pier Show’s prestigious Unicycling Girrafe award for his final comment which, I think, says it all, and brings this discussion to a suitable close, I think. I have attempted an analysis of this discussion in a new blog entry here -
Postscript @Heather: identifying unicorns, or indeed anything beyond the remit of the expected, is a non-trivial problem. I discuss it at length in my book Deep Time (In Search of Deep Time in the US), available in the canonical All Good Bookshops.
@Rus:
“My premise is that I have not yet encountered a situation, an idea or a physical part of the universe that requires invocation of any gods to explain it.”
That’s actually William of Ockham’s (of Razor fame) major point. And is exactly how it should be. It demonstrates why C/ID is lousy theology. A god who creates the universe, yet leaves something that can not be explained by ‘natural’ phenomena is a pretty crap god. Any deity can magic something together in 7 days in puffs of smoke. Takes real *God*liness to do it properly. Which means, theologically, we would not expect to observe a ‘proof’ of god (or God).
I have more to say on religion, why it sucks, and revelation, why it’s the only thing that works for me, but this is not the place. Maybe on my personal weblog.
@Peter: you’re right—it’s perfectly possible for scientists to study the effects of belief even if it is not possible to study the Object of Contemplation directly.
Quite so – however I think the distinction is even more blurred than that. Given that even most believers will say that God is not something concrete and measureable, then in a sense God is defined in terms of his/her effects.
So to say that a scientist studies “the effects of belief” and a theologian studies “the nature of God” is to obscure the fact that they’re actually doing much the same thing, only with different tools and different vocabulary.