Atheism, Theology and Creationism

"God, today, no longer represents the same forces as in the beginning of His existence; neither does He direct human destiny with the same Iron hand as of yore. Rather does the God idea express a sort of spiritualistic stimalus to satisfy the fads and fancies of every shade of human weakness. In the course of human development the God idea has been forced to adapt itself to every phase of human affairs, which is perfectly consistent with the origin of the idea itself."

(Emma Goldman, The Philosophy of Atheism)

Watching 'The Genius of Darwin' on Channel 4, I was struck by just how futile the evolution vs creationism debate often seems to be. Dawkins (who presented the documentary) and others like him appear convinced that human beings are essentially rational beings who can be won round to a particular viewpoint because the facts support it. But the show presented plenty of evidence that this simply isn't the case.

While its true that the creationists featured in the documentary certainly displayed a fundamental ignorance of evolutionary theory, it quickly became obvious that clearing up their misconceptions had no real impact on their beliefs. As one of the pupils at the school Dawkins visits in part 1 so concisely explained: It wasn't that he didn't understand evolutionary theory, it was just that his religion told him it was wrong. Through (I assume) a combination of bribes, threats and social pressure, his religious beliefs had managed to shut down a large part of his capacity for critical thought.

This is – what I'd call - “Regressive Theology”. It teaches that the Truth has already been revealed, and all knowledge which challenges it must be rejected. Failure to do so often results in the most extreme punishment conceivable: An eternity of agony and torment. (Not to mention the more immediate ostracism by friends and family).

Due to its nature, regressive theology is (once it's taken hold) generally immune to counter-argument. To doubt is to risk everything. While better education can help prevent regressive theology taking hold of an individual (by aiding the capacity to doubt before it's suppressed), it's next to useless against those already in its influence.

The irony (and hopefully Achilles heel) of such a theology however is that it's actually at war with itself – by rejecting and fighting scientific knowledge, regressive theology is in a position of worshipping the creator while rejecting and fighting the creation. It is in conflict with the very world it claims is divine.

At the other end of the spectrum, and perhaps offering the greatest challenge to is counterpart, is “Progressive Theology”. This religious view of the world is built around the idea that understand of (the) God(s) is incomplete and one of the best ways of advancing it is through increasing our knowledge and understanding of “Creation”. In its engagement with the world it welcomes and absorbs breakthroughs in science as shedding further light on the world around us and consequently its creator.

"Do we want to contemplate his power? We see it in the immensity of the creation. Do we want to contemplate his wisdom? We see it in the unchangeable order by which the incomprehensible Whole is governed. Do we want to contemplate his munificence? We see it in the abundance with which he fills the earth. Do we want to contemplate his mercy? We see it in his not withholding that abundance even from the unthankful. In fine, do we want to know what God is? Search not the book called the scripture, which any human hand might make, but the scripture called the Creation."

(Tom Paine, The Age of Reason)

For atheists such as myself, progressive theology offers not just the best hope of challenging its regressive form, but also of bringing about an erosion of religious belief – as if theology is built upon the nature of the universe, and the universe is atheistic, then atheism will surely follow, to some degree or other. (Of course, if the universe is theistic, then we can at least look forward to more convincing arguments for theism).

Presenting theology and science as diametrically opposed, as Dawkins often seems to do, risks undermining the progressive strains of the former and thereby strengthening the regressive ones. An unnuanced approach to theology may well be an own goal.

A-T-H-E-I-S-M... find out what it means to them

(Look at that - you wait ages for a post and then three come along at once. They're like buses.)

There's been a bit of a debate (kicked off by the recent "Questions for atheists" meme) around the blogworld over what the term "atheist" actually denotes. John S. Wilkins of 'Evolving Thoughts' has a thought-provoking post outlining his own views on the matter - which manages to capture the distinction between positive and negative atheism (which seems to split people) quite well.

In summary, he states that:

I think there's a bit of a conundrum here for atheists. Either they have to make a positive claim and exclude agnostics and soi disant deists, or they have to accept they are defined by the religion du jour.

John thinks that atheists should go for the former - positively stating that there are no gods, as opposed to the more agnostic position of simply not accepting religious claims. I can't agree though: The absolutist claim he seems to be arguing for (as an agnostic himself) seems to me to be unsupportable - without some form of absolute knowledge it's impossible to dismiss deistic or more nebulous theistic claims about the nature of the universe. It may be that the evidence for the existence of a creator is incredibly weak, but that doesn't mean we can rule out the possibility altogether, merely that we have to pronounce it extremely unlikely - which seems to bring us closer to the second position.

And it's this position I find myself quite comfortable in: When I say that I'm an atheist, I don't intend to say anything more than that I've found religious arguments so far unconvincing (I am "non-theistic"). It is not so much a claim about the universe as a claim about how the universe appears to me now. I see no way (or need) to deny the possibility that at some point I'll encounter evidence that will change my mind.

Nor in my reading of people such as Dawkins or Hitchens do I see them as advancing much more than a similar position - neither completely rule out that possibility of God (in some form), they simply make the case that all arguments for God so far have been flawed.

PZ Myers, disrespecting beliefs and shooting yourself in the foot

Let's say that a friend of mine is trying to fix his computer. It runs Windows XP, but for some reason he's convinced it's running Windows Vista. This mistake is making his task even harder.

It seems fairly obvious that, as a friend, I should make him aware of this mistake as soon as I can.

Most people want their beliefs to be as true as possible. If a girlfriend is cheating on me then, as much as finding out will hurt, I'd want to know – as tackling the problem will ultimately lead to a better life than living with someone who cheats on me. The fact that I strongly believe that she is “the one” is no excuse for my friends not making me aware of my mistake – although it does mean that they should approach the issue delicately.

Respect for the individual entails disrespect for beliefs we believe to be wrong.

The same applies to religious matters – If someone believes that my atheism is a mistake then, if they care about me in any way, they should try to make me aware of this mistake as soon as possible.

Although, just as they have an obligation to make me aware of my mistake, they have an obligation (to themselves as much as to me) to do so in a productive way. Standing outside my house declaring through a megaphone that I'm going to burn in hell for my heathen ways is not only unlikely to change my mind, it will also sour my view of religious people and so make it even harder to change my mind on the subject.

Which brings me to 'Wafergate'.

My objection to PZ Myer's recent actions concerning “host desecration” is that not only will it fail to change anyone's mind on the subject, it also, by annoying and upsetting many Catholics, makes that task even harder.

If Myers is truly concerned with the threatening actions of some Catholics in response to Webster Cook taking a wafer from a Mass service then the best course of is as follows: Research the Eucharist, find arguments against its validity and then try to present these in a way that will have the most influence in Catholic circles.

As with any group, there will inevitably be some that will refuse to listen. But there are many more who will. Myers is focusing on a minority at the expense of a majority.

Most religious people want to hold true beliefs. As an atheist, I think that their current beliefs are more likely to be false. I also think that they (and ultimately everyone else) would be better off if they were aware of their mistakes. The crude mockery by Myers – and many in the comment threads of his blog – is not only going to fail in making his case, it's actually massively counter-productive.

Q&A

This "13 questions for atheists" meme seems to be doing the rounds at the moment. (Although 3 of the questions seem to have vanished somewhere). No-one's tagged me as such, but I thought it might be interesting to give it ago. So...

Q1. How would you define "atheism"?

Well... the a- prefix denotes "the absence of" and theism refers to belief in a divine being, so: "the absence of belief in a divine being".

Makes sense, doesn't it?

Q2. Was your upbringing religious? If so, what tradition?

My mum is more "spiritual" than religious and my dad is too pragmatic to really bother with all that stuff. I was baptised though, and assemblies at my primary school were pretty CofE in content: Hymns and parables but no real attempt to establish any serious dogma. Both my brother and I turned out more-or-less atheist.

Q3. How would you describe "Intelligent Design", using only one word?

Questionable.

Q4. What scientific endeavour really excites you?

The search for life (intelligent or otherwise) on other planets.

Q5. If you could change one thing about the "atheist community", what would it be and why?

We have a community?

This might just reflect my own prejudices, but I think those atheists who engage in debate with theists tend to underestimate the intelligence of the other side. Mocking religious believers and calling them stupid is neither big, nor clever, and makes it more difficult to separate the moderates from the extremists.

Q6. If your child came up to you and said "I’m joining the clergy", what would be your first response?

I imagine: "Huh?"

Followed by various questions.

Depending on the reasons my child gave for their decision, I wouldn't necessarily have a problem with it. We all need to find our own path through life.

Q7. What’s your favourite theistic argument, and how do you usually refute it?

Personal revelation is usually pretty interesting - although it doesn't constitute an argument and so doesn't actually need refuting.

Q8. What’s your most "controversial" (as far as general attitudes amongst other atheists goes) viewpoint?

Not sure.

I don't see the point in arguing with deists who base their views on some form of intuition: After all, they're not causing any trouble.

Q9. Of the "Four Horsemen" (Dawkins, Dennett, Hitchens and Harris) who is your favourite, and why?

Hmmmm...

Probably... Dawkins. Solely on the basis of his books on evolutionary theory.

Q10. If you could convince just one theistic person to abandon their beliefs, who would it be?

The Pope.

'Cause it'd be funny.

I'm not going to tag anyone, but people should feel free to post their answers in the comment box below. Any theists are also welcome to adapt it for their viewpoint as well.

Love is all you need

There's a moment in the film 'Contact' (no idea whether it's in the book) where, after listening to Jodie Foster defend the scientific worldview, Matthew McConaughey asks her if she loved her father. He then asks her to prove it.

She's left stumped.

The same question is wheeled out every so often by religious believers as what they seem to think is a trump card against the empirical view of the world.

Yet, as far as I can see, it's a pretty easy question.

The only real problem with it is our definition of love: If we believe it to be a “simple” physiological state then evidence isn't too difficult to come by – we can look at the person's behaviour (do they behave in a way consistent with people who claim to be in love), check their physical reaction (heart-rate, pupil dilation, etc.), maybe even bring in some neuroscience. If, as I suspect those asking the question do, we believe it to be a “spiritual” state, above and beyond the physical, then the onus is on us to provide a way of studying this state. Neither presents that much of a challenge to the empirical view.

Of course, the question could be seen as challenging the empiricist to prove that they have subjective experiences – but then such an extreme scepticism poses a challenge to all worldviews, including the religious.

Any thoughts?

Atheism, aliens and Anglicans

A little while ago, Linda flagged up this newspaper article on the Church of England using 'Doctor Who' in order to spread the good word. Now it seems that the folks at Pharyngula have got hold of the news – and aren't best pleased.

So I thought I'd use this opportunity to write a quick post on an idea that's been floating around my head for a while.

It's impossible to call yourself a real science fiction fan without being aware of Clarke's 3rd Law.

“Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”

Reading through the comments on the Pharyngula post, specifically some peoples' dislike of 'The Impossible Planet / The Satan Pit' episode of Doctor Who (essentially because of its agnostic stance towards the protagonist: Alien or Satan? Who knows?), made me realise that the law could be rephrased/expanded as follows:

“Any sufficiently advanced alien would be indistinguishable from a god.”

Science fiction, in all forms, is replete with such ideas: Egyptian/Roman/Greek gods as alien beings is pretty much cliché.

I'm not suggesting that believing what's commonly referred to as God is an advanced alien is more rational*, but I'd certainly argue that such a belief is as rational as believing god(s) to be divine beings.

(*Although I suspect some would.)

It's entirely possible to conceive of a being or beings sufficiently advanced enough to explain the so-called miraculous events of all religions in perfectly naturalistic, though alien terms: Angels, revelation, resurrection, prophecy... maybe even the creation of the universe itself.

Just a thought.

Man and the Machine

There came a day when Man awoke. He was all alone with the machine. From the first day he knew he couldn’t live without it, for outside of the machine there was nothing. This isolation reminded him that, though he was free to explore, his freedom was limited. Whatever he was, he was bound to the machine. As Man pondered this he was assailed by a strange sensation — a deep longing that he couldn’t shake. “From where do I come? Where shall I go? To what shall I live?” And the most puzzling question of all, “What am I?” With these questions in hand Man entered the machine.

It was his hope that within the machine he would find the answers to his questions. With great zeal he began his work. As Man explored, he marveled at the complexity of the machine. At times he was overcome with it’s beauty. He would sit silent for hours just experiencing its wonder. “What does all this mean?” he would ask himself. But no answers were forthcoming.

As Man’s quest progressed he couldn’t help but think that the nature of the machine was such that only something like Man, only much greater, had crafted it. There was much that went on within the machine that seemed impossible if it were not by the work of such a being. For what seemed like an age, Man devoted considerable energy to pondering what such a being would be like and wondering why it created what it did.

With time Man came to see that he could manipulate the machine to achieve his own purposes. This was no small revelation, for now he was able to discover so much more than he had ever dreamed! Bit by bit he brought the machine under his control. With each new advance Man’s knowledge of the machine increased and with each discovery he was stunned by what he found. Phenomena that once seemed almost magical, now appeared to have deeper mechanisms that drove them. Man was so impressed by his discoveries that he no longer felt he needed to postulate a “super-man.” With the abandonment of a creator agency, Man returned to his task, but as he worked the questions he was seeking to answer were starting to feel strangely hollow. Or perhaps it was that the field of answers he had to choose from were now starting to feel a bit more absurd. No matter where he looked, all he found was more machine, more complexity, more noise, but no reason for their existence or workings. As wonderful as the machine seemed to be at times, he could find no point for its existence. It was just there, running on a track between an apparently pointless beginning and an ultimately meaningless end.

The more Man struggled to extract answers from the machine the more it began to lose the beauty he had once seen in it. It was as if the machine mocked him. In all its intractable mystery, it continued on its blind path with no care for the pleadings of the man within it. Frustrated with his attempts to find answers by examining the machine, he traced the long journey back to the place he had first experienced it’s beauty. In desperation he screamed with everything in him, “WHAT AM I?” All his strength gone, he fell to the ground, sobbing. His body shook as waves of anger and despair washed over him. All around him there was nothing but the whirr and click of a machine that took no notice of him.

It was at this time that something caught Man’s attention. A soft glow from deep within the machine flickered through a gap in the floor. Wiping his eyes, he peered between the metal plates. Nothing could have prepared him for what he was about to discover.

Far below him he could see a small monitor nestled deep in a tangle of wires and in it there was an image of himself. It was a birds eye view, as if a camera was positioned directly above him. He looked up, hoping to see what was watching him, but as he did he realized something that wasn’t quite right. The image of himself in the monitor turned and looked towards the ceiling a split second before he did. He turned back and looked into the monitor, then quickly, he turned away. Sure enough, the visage of himself moved before he moved his body. Every move he made the monitor displayed just prior to his enacting it! He would wave his arms or shake his head but his visage would begin it’s movements before he could get his body to react.

He was beginning to think the machine was reading his mind until the video began to gradually speed up. He watched himself peering through the crack, then lift himself off the floor and proceed to sit with his hands in his lap. Apart form a slight swaying from side to side, the image of himself simply sat motionless. This went on for quite some time until suddenly the screen flickered and went dark. Terrified, he lifted himself off the floor and sat up. With his hands lying limp in his lap, Man sat. He felt like he should run, or lift his arms, anything just to prove the video wrong. He could do that couldn’t he? He was a free creature after all... He was the originator of his actions, not the machine... Right? Long hours passed as he sat motionless; his body lost all feeling as the deepest truth he had yet discovered slowly saturated his being.

All this time, even now, this very second, his actions, his thoughts... He had never been controlling the machine; it had been controlling him. Why had he not seen it before? He had no autonomous existence. He was, and always had been, merely a part of the machine. His freedom, his experience—they were all illusory. He had never really been searching for answers to begin with—it had always been the machine. Never Man. Only the machine. In a single moment Man’s existence collapsed.

The machine devoured him, and all was silent.

The atheist's choice

Humanists have a long tradition of drawing on literature, poetry and art to illustrate their arguments. Some use the works of Shakespeare, some use that of William Blake.

I'm going to use a late 90s science-fiction TV show.

'Cos that's how I roll.

For those who don't know, 'Babylon 5' was a series whose reach often exceeded its grasp – despite the low-budget and sometimes embarrassing dialogue it was never afraid to tackle philosophical and ethical issues and normally managed to say something interesting along the way.

In the following clip the main character, Sheridan, is caught between life and death (for reasons far too complicated to go into) where he's offered (again for reasons too complicated to go into) the chance to live – but only if he wants it enough.



The reason I've posted this clip is that the decision that Sheridan has to make here is, I think, based on perhaps the most important question that an atheist has to answer: Why should I live?

According to Alex, there is no good answer. We're simply complex units of matter in an indifferent universe. Whether we live or die makes no difference.

But to me this doesn't mean that there are no good answers, only that there are no good a priori ones. The atheist must confront the fact that the universe provides us no good reason to live: Kill yourself and, from the universe's point-of-view, it makes no difference whatsoever.

But that still leaves us with the possibility of good a posteriori answers. Atheists must decide for themselves whether life is worth living. We must look at what we know and how we feel and decide whether it's worth going on or not. It's a personal choice – not one that can be made by anyone else. For some of us this reason will come from our relationships with those around us, or from an appreciation of the aesthetic quality of life. For some of us no reasons will be found – though, given the only alternative, this is quite rare (and often the result of errors of thinking rather than genuine disregard for life).

Only once this choice has been made, once we've learnt to embrace life and “simply be”, can we get on with the business of living. (Although this isn't to say that once answered the question never re-appears: self-evaluation of this kind is likely to be a fairly constant feature of life on some level or other).

Essential reading for nonbelievers (and believers)

I'm currently reading 'The Portable Atheist: Essential Readings for the Nonbeliever', a collection of atheist thoughts on religion put together by Christopher Hitchens.

I say reading... this isn't really a book you sit down and read from cover to cover, it's more a book that sits on your shelf or bedside table to be dipped into every now and again in order to discover some new thinker or new insight on the topic of religious belief. The collection is certainly extensive – running all the way from Lucretius to Ayaan Hirsi Ali, with a wealth of famous (and not so famous) names between: Hobbes, Spinoza, Marx, Darwin, Lovecraft, Einstein, Russell, Sagan, Ayer, Dennett, Rushdie, Harris and many, many others. In each case a fragment of their comments on religion are presented. Not only does this book provide a neat overview of atheistic religious thought throughout the centuries, but it also provides a great springboard to all these various writers and their works.

At only £6/$12 on Amazon, it's also an incredible bargain. (Note: I've seen it on sale for almost three times that price in bookstores).

In fact, the only real criticism I can make of this book is its title, perpetuating as it does the idea that atheists have nothing better to do with their time than worry about religion. In my experience atheists break down into two main categories: Apatheists and antitheists. The former group, those who don't bother themselves with irrelevant metaphysical issues is by far the larger. It's the latter, those who regard religion as dangerous, that make up the selection in this book. As such it's better described as 'The Portable Antitheist'. Those looking in it for naturalistic and/or humanistic examinations of everyday life will be sorely disappointed.

Some thoughts on enlightened self-interest as the basis for morality

(What follows is a slightly rambling expansion on some of my comments about morality in the post below. What I'm hoping to show is that enlightened self-interest can provide us with a strong reason to act in a "moral" way. It's intended as a conversation starter rather than a definite pronouncement on the subject.)

Enlightened self-interest is different from sentiment or whim – I may save someone's life because I like the look of them, but such an action does not count as truly moral.

The vast majority of human beings are bound together by certain innate desires (security, companionship, contentment, procreation, etc.) which are harder (or downright impossible) to realise outside of the social setting. These desires, as well as forming the bedrock of all civilisation, provide the foundation of secular morality.

Immoral acts constitute those which undermine the realisation of these desires.

For example: I desire safety for myself and those I care about. If I make a habit of killing those who get in my way then I not only provide no reason for others to help keep me alive, I actually provide them with a reason to kill me – as I represent a significant threat to them and their loved ones. The best way to realise my desire is to promote the safety of all in the expectation that they will, in turn, ensure my safety. If I kill, or tolerate killers, such an arrangement is impossible to maintain.

This differs from whim in that reason is employed to consider the total effect of my actions. If someone makes me angry whim may tell me to kill them while reason tells me that such an action will be counter-productive.

(Obviously, most people aren't that keen on killing in the first place, no matter how angry they get – but I'm assuming worst case scenario to show the strength of enlightened self-interest).

As another example: I'm able to provide for myself and my loved ones much easier in a social setting than on my own. Bartering services and goods allows me a much comfier lifestyle than I'd enjoy in isolation – catching and cooking your own food (not to mention building a house, dealing with illness, etc.) is much harder than turning up at work each day and sitting in front of a computer. In order for bartering to work there has to be a basic level of trust between individuals. If I go around lying about everything then people will cease to trust me and so cease to work with me. (The social aspect of my life will also be significantly reduced). So not only do I have a strong reason to be truthful but also a strong reason to promote truthfulness in society as a whole.

Etc.

An immoral individual is one at war with the rest of society – undermining their chance to realise significant desires.

Some thoughts from Salman Rushdie

From Rushdie's letter to the six billionth living person:

As for mortality, the second great question - how to live? What is right action, and what wrong? - it comes down to your willingness to think for yourself. Only you can decide if you want to be handed down the law by priests, and accept that good and evil are somehow external to ourselves. To my mind religion, even at its most sophisticated, essentially infantilises our ethical selves by setting infallible moral Arbiters and irredeemably immoral Tempters above us: the eternal parents, good and bad, light and dark, of the supernatural realm.

How, then, are we to make ethical choices without a divine rulebook or judge? Is unbelief just the first step on the long slide into the brain death of cultural relativism, according to which many unbearable things - female circumcision, to name just one - can be excused on culturally specific grounds, and the universality of human rights, too, can be ignored? (This last piece of moral unmaking finds supporters in some of the world's most authoritarian regimes, and also, unnervingly, on the editorial page of the Daily Telegraph.)

Well, no, it isn't, but the reasons for saying so aren't clear-cut. Only hard-line ideology is clear-cut. Freedom, which is the word I use for the secular-ethical position, is inevitably fuzzier. Yes, freedom is that space in which contradiction can reign, it is a never-ending debate. It is not in itself the answer to the question of morals, but the conversation about that question. And it is much more than mere relativism, because it is not merely a never-ending talk show, but a place in which choices are made, values defined and defended.

A response from Alex
I whole heartedly agree with Rushdie's discomfort regarding morality being unquestioningly legislated by "religion". Even his comments on "fuzzieness" I find myself empathizing with. One insight I have come to recently is that on the level of the individual, moral truth can only be recognized through praxis. When I speak of an "absolute morality" I would want to clarify that what I am advocating is not that there are a certain set of actions that will be true for all peoples in all places. Neither would I wish to be construed as saying there's an exhaustive list of rules somewhere that if we just followed all of them we'd be "absolutely moral". Reality is more complicated (or maybe simple?) than that. To try and construct such a list only leads away from Christianity and towards moralism.

Still, I continue to disagree with any line of thinking which claims humanity ultimately has no transcendent ground yet we can still have such things as moral obligations. I would wish to reemphasize that my position does not at all claim that people who do not believe in God cannot be good, but rather if there is no God there's no such thing as good.

So where does the Christian find his guiding star when it comes to ethics? Is it because all actions have an inherent (deontological) moral bias? Perhaps that's to constricting. Would it be better to then only consider the results of our actions? (teleological) Bernard Adeney has a few helpful words here:

Deontological and teleological ethics are often treated as mutually exclusive. The polarization of means and ends, the antithesis between principals and results, this is a characteristic weakness of Western dualistic thought. It leads to war between the absolutists and the relativists. The absolutists are thought to be too narrow and rigid. The relativists are thought to be too wishy-washy.

Actually, the distinctions between deontology and teleology helpfully show two necessary and contrasting elements in moral choice. These are not contradictory, but complementary. The way they fit together cannot be determined by abstract philosophical principle. The concrete situation in which moral choices are embodied reveal the ways in which principles and results interact. [emphasis mine]

As a Christian I believe there are absolute moral principles and rules that reflect the character of God. These moral principles underlie all human behavior and are based in the fact that we live in a moral universe. Human beings were created in the image of God and have an intrinsic value. in the words of the Westminster Confession, we are created "to glorify God and to enjoy him forever." While these deontological absolutes are expressed and emphasized differently in different places and times, they are clearly affirmed by Christians in all cultures.

The central moral absolute that follows from these Christian affirmations is " 'The Lord our God , the Lord is one; you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.' ... 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' There is no commandment greater than these" (Mk 12:29-31).

Strange Virtues, Ethics in a Multicultural World pp.149-150

Militant Atheists

Hour 1:



Hour 2:

On agnosticism

From an interview with David Attenborough in the current edition of 'New Humanist':

Yet he had never openly declared himself to be an atheist. “That’s right. I’m an agnostic. In the strict sense that I don’t know. And I don’t know a lot. And I certainly don’t know about the existence of a supreme being or about the existence of an afterlife. The absence of evidence does not mean that there is a god. The absence of evidence means two things. It means that we don’t know but it also means scientifically that it would be interesting to find out.” There are those who accuse agnostics of hedging their bets. But this would quite unfair to Attenborough. His agnosticism is not a way of saying that there might be a god; it is rather a statement about the necessary humility and open-mindedness of the scientific attitude. It is a prescription for action rather than a refusal to enter the argument.

PBS "The Question of God", Featuring Freud & Lewis

Two podcasts worth listening to:

Colin McGinn:

(Click here for MP3)

In this discussion with D.J. Grothe, Colin McGinn explores various kinds of skepticism, giving his concerns about radical fallibilism and certain post-modern critiques of knowledge. He explains how he is certain that ghosts and Gods don't exist. He details how atheistic the profession of philosophy is, and how the tolerance shown while philosophers criticize each other serves as a model for good citizenship. He tells the reasons that led to his religious skepticism and atheism. He examines William Shakespeare as a philosopher, the problem of evil in Shakespeare's plays, and other philosophical subjects found in Shakespeare such as epistemology, ethics, life after death, happiness and the meaning of life. He also explains how getting into Shakespeare as a professional philosopher impacted his philosophy.

Richard Norman:

(Click here for MP3)

Can non-believers make sense of the world? How can there be morality without God? In this episode of Philosophy Bites philosopher Richard Norman, author of On Humanism, contributor to What is Humanism? and member of the Humanist Philosophers Group, explains how it is possible to lead a good life without religion.

Links:
Point of Inquiry
Philosophy Bites

Some divisions are more important than others

I don't know if you get Terry Pratchett's 'Discworld' over in the US. It's a series of satirical fantasy novels (set on a flat disc of a world, travelling through space on the back of giant turtle) for those of you who don't know.

This quote is from one of the more recent ones, 'Monstrous Regime':

"The enemy wasn't men, or women, or the old, or even the dead. It was just bleedin' stupid people, who came in all varieties."

It's this sentiment that comes to mind when reading stuff like this:



These are the same people who picket the funerals of those they disagree with – shouting insults at the friends and families of the deceased.

There's a line, running through all beliefs, between those who have compassion and respect for others and those who don't.

The fights I believe to be the most important aren't about religion, or atheism, or anything like that... it's about taking a stand against stupidity, bigotry and hatred – wherever and in whoever we find them.

The danger of simplistic labels

It seems that, in response to the atheist OUT campaign, a Christian version has been launched (though on a far smaller scale). Alonzo Fyfe (otherwise known as 'Atheist Ethicist') puts things much more eloquently than I could hope to manage, so I'll simply quote him:

So, now we have two sides, each wearing their own flags and wearing their own uniforms, each defining themselves by their opposition to the other.

If people are not careful - if they do not make a conscious effort to see how this develops, it is a type of situation that could get out of hand. Humans have a psychological disposition towards tribalism, with a tendency to be hostile towards opposing tribes. Saying that atheists are immune from this disposition is saying that atheists are not human.

This type of tribalism has come to be extremely destructive in different times in human history. It is something we need to be careful about.

I like to think that this blog is - or at least aims to be - the antithesis of such tribalist mentalities. While we each have our own beliefs and arguments, I hope that we manage to avoid cramming people into simplistic boxes.

Where do we begin?

We have spoken often here about how the only indubitable certainty is "that I am experiencing existence". From there our epistemology exhibits a steady downhill trend. Even so, as finite men we have only one option in our search — and that is to begin with ourselves. And here I think is the dilemma that I've been trying to articulate. (with limited success.)

What justifies such a move?

What justification do we have to begin with our own experience? There is only one answer that holds any weight, and It's not atheism. Atheism destroys any justification to begin with ourself. Within atheism the foundation of all reality is an impersonal something. If you start with impersonal something, then man must be reducible to impersonal stuff. To argue otherwise is to say the stream rises above it's source.

My co-blogging friend Matt seems to realize this (at least the first bit) and thus, has accepted determinism. Man is simply part of the machine. But he can't live consistently within such a world view — none of us can. The implications are too destructive. As such, he clings to one last hope: "My life is meaningful because I find it to be meaningful". I empathize with his sentiment here – we all do – but it's an unjustified leap. It's unjustified because it destroys itself when it tries to answer the question I have asked above. "What gives us the right to start with ourselves?"

It all comes down to this word "personal". If, for the sake of argument, we presuppose atheism, then to avoid having the stream rise above it's source, "personhood" must be reducible the impersonal. Suddenly all the attributes that man has historically thought unique to himself (self-determination, the importance of love, the ability to act for 'better' or 'worse') have been destroyed by man's only option: The decent into behaviorism and determinism. Man is just a part of the machine.

One must watch closely at this juncture as all but the most hopeless of men employ some understandably slippery language in the hope of avoiding the implications. You will hear them say things like, "You are making this all sound much worse than it really is. You simply fail to comprehend the incredible potential of the material world!" and "There is no God needed, just look at all the world can do with out him!" Though I truly empathize with such statements, they are irreconcilably flawed. First off, they simply beg the question. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, they make an unjustified optimistic leap. The leap is to desire one's unique personhood in-spite of what must become a reductionist programme in the absence of God. Any attempts to argue otherwise once again have our stream rising above it's source.

I hope I have made the situation clear. It's a desperate place to come to, but if the foundation is impersonal something we are left with no alternative. Now I often have those who are of the atheist persuasion become angry with me at this point. They act as though I have tricked them. There has to be another way... and indeed there is, but before we can consider it we must feel the depth of our plight. If we begin with the impersonal, man is dead. There is no other alternative.

So what other option do we have? "What right do we have to begin with ourself?". There are only two options here an I am convinced that the presupposition of atheism has utterly failed. Let us now consider that which Christianity holds to be truth — that at the center of all reality lies personality. If this proposition obtains we don't have the dilemma of the stream rising above its source. In-fact, personality becomes irreducible altogether. There is an upward rather than downward movement. In atheism we think we know what material is and what it does, thus we are reduced to it. Under Christianity we are only experiencing diffused personality. We cannot fully grasp what it is to be personal. Our ultimate starting point is not blind matter, but a personal God. Our ultimate relationship to reality is not downward, but upward. The mistake of atheism is that it tries to get to know personality by studying corpses.

In the Christian system, beginning with ourself is justified as we are created in the image of God. Like God, we posses a measure of self-determination. Thus, our search is valid because we really CAN search. Also like God, our mind operates according to reason, thus validating our search for unity within the varity. However an important distinction between man and God is that man is finite (and fallen, but that's for another time). Our finite nature makes necessary the 'search' for truth. We don't arrive programmed. We need to look for it. And so, in these ways our most basic task of beginning with ourselves is justified.

One caveat I must add is this: We must here make the distinction between validating the "starting from one's self" and validating the claims of rationalism which stipulate we can achieve final answers using ONLY man, at the exclusion of any revealed religion. This has been the enlightenment project that has died a thousand deaths, but for some reason continues to resurface in the minds of men. If we choose to reject all forms of revelation the result is predictable as the rising of the sun. Unless an unjustified leap of faith is adopted, man is dead. All is arbitrary. We are lost.

As I continue to grapple with these questions I am increasingly confronted with the fact that Christianity, as a system, answers man's fundamental questions like no other philosophy or religion can. It's coherence and correspondence continue to amaze me. Though there are plenty of peripheral questions I continue to do battle with, I am able to live in the comfort of knowing the big ones have answers that satisfy the deepest yearnings of man.

More on 'The Golden Compass'

Following my deist reading of the films in the post below, I thought I'd offer up two differing interpretations.

First, a Protestant take:

The irony, though, is that because the film never attacks religion eo ipso, its supposedly atheistic critique of the Magisterium is indistinguishable from a very traditional (also several centuries' worth) Protestant critique of Catholicism. If anything, Lyra's position as a savior figure, foretold in the witches' prophecies, implies the existence of an alternative religious structure--not the opposition of religion to no religion at all. And the film condemns the Magisterium's attempt to legislate behavior from above on the same grounds as Protestants have condemned the Roman Catholic Church since the Reformation: such external control promotes both legalism (that is, it emphasizes obedience to a law imposed from without, instead of spiritual rebirth from within) and denies the importance of the conscience. Effectively, we have "tradition" opposed to a kind of private judgment, represented in both Lyra's apparently inspired ability to interpret the alethiometer and Lord Asriel's quest for scientific truth. For that matter, Asriel's interest in alternate universes takes on a distinctly Galileo-esque tinge. All of this overlaps with a secular or skeptical critique of religion, of course, but is hardly confined to it. Even the Master's demand for "free inquiry" has solid religious roots, as well as secular ones.

Second, a Catholic one:

These books are deeply theological, and deeply Christian in their theology. The universe of "His Dark Materials" is permeated by a God in love with creation, who watches out for the meekest of all beings - the poor, the marginalized, and the lost. It is a God who yearns to be loved through our respect for the body, the earth, and through our lives in the here and now. This is a rejection of the more classical notion of a detached, transcendent God, but I am a Catholic theologian, and reading this fantasy trilogy enhanced my sense of the divine, of virtue, of the soul, of my faith in God.

The book's concept of God, in fact, is what makes Pullman's work so threatening. His trilogy is not filled with attacks on Christianity, but with attacks on authorities who claim access to one true interpretation of a religion. Pullman's work is filled with the feminist and liberation strands of Catholic theology that have sustained my own faith, and which threaten the power structure of the church. Pullman's work is not anti-Christian, but anti-orthodox.

I've yet to find a convincing atheist one.

UPDATE: I think the final word should go to Jean Kazez over at 'Talking Philosophy', who (in my opinion) manages to sum up the "message" of the film quite nicely:

A moviegoer could come away thinking Pullman is for witches and demons and multiple universes, talking polar bears and mysterious dust. The movie’s real theme, though, is truth. Good in the movie is lined up with free inquiry and the unimpeded search for the truth. Evil is the monstrous institution of the magisterium, which battles against the truth- seekers.

But wait, if the movie is pro-truth, why shouldn’t it be construed as pro-God, or even pro-Jesus. (Wasn’t it Jesus who said “I am the way and the truth”?) It will take any moviegoer a moment of honest reflection to admit the power of the movie’s message. All religions claim contact with truth, but they don’t empower members of the religion to be truth-seekers themselves.

'His Dark Materials': deist, not atheist

I'm on a break from blogging at the moment, so I'll keep this brief.

'The Golden Compass' (based on book 1 of Phillip Pullman's 'His Dark Materials' trilogy) has just been released in cinemas worldwide, attended by considerable controversy about its alleged "anti-religion" / "pro-atheist" arguments.

As someone who has (unlike, it seems, most commentators on the subject) actually read the books, I thought I'd add my tuppence worth on the subject. While they're far from perfect (I have some issues with the third one), much of the criticism (and some of the praise) has been seriously misguided.

(NOTE: Although I've tried to keep the following free of any major plot details, it does go into the background mythology of the books, which isn't really developed until the second and third).

The most important point to make is that the mythology of the books is deist rather than atheist in nature: God (in the traditional sense) created the universe(s) and then retired for some unknown reason, though I rather suspect it has something to do with the concept of free will.

The target of criticism in the books is not this being, but rather the "Authority", an angel (self-formed) who has set himself up as overlord of the universe(s) through lies and tyranny (sound familiar?). The allies of this being are the power-hungry and the close-minded - who seek to maintain their power through shutting down individual inquiry into the nature of the universe(s).

The fact that so many describe the above as "anti-religious" is quite telling.

The concept of the soul also features heavily in the books - though whether it is material or non-material is questionable. It is, however, quite capable of surviving the death of the physical body, and the characters of the books enjoy an afterlife which (arguably) is quite compatible with Christian notions (the world of the dead = purgatory, oneness with the universe = the traditional idea of heaven?) if a certain amount of poetic license is allowed.

There are, though, two (that I can remember) specific mentions of traditional Christianity that are quite negative: The first is in the recasting of the fall of man in more positive tones - Pullman argues that knowledge of good and evil is an integral part of what makes us human, and that life pre-fall was of a lesser kind. What most Christians will make of this I can't say, though I suspect that there are some (perhaps many) that would agree with it. The second is the description of Christianity as a "mistake" by the character of Mary Malone, a former nun. For me, this is simply the opinion of one person in the books, and given that her Christianity (which denied basic human pleasures, such as love) was of a particular repressive kind, it's arguable that her problem was only with the debased version of religious belief rejected by a large number of believers. Neither, it seems to me, should be particularly troublesome for liberal Christians.

In summary: The books aren't so much anti-religious as they are pro- freedom of thought and freedom of religion.

(They also have talking, armour-plated polar bears. One of which, in the film, is voiced by the great Ian McKellen. How cool is that?)