Archive for the ‘beliefs’ Category

Archaeologists versus believers

2010/02/04

A friend of mine pointed out this (Dutch) story to me (an English translation is given here).  In the Netherlands – which many consider a bastion of reason and liberalism – there is a town council objecting to a scientific report because it contradicts their religious beliefs.

Staphorst is a community of very religious people (mostly Calvinists, according to Wikipedia).  Like all Dutch towns, they are required to produce a survey of archaeological sites in their jurisdiction (for a comprehensive nation-wide map of such sites).

Naturally, the survey was conducted by actual archaeologists.  It contained references to settlements 12000 years old.  That’s what the scientific evidence suggests, and I think that’s pretty cool.  Imagine learning that there are twelve thousand years of human heritage in your hometown!

But the council members (and most of the people in the town) are young-earth creationists.  That’s their right, of course.  But they want the report amended to acknowledge their beliefs – that the countryside, the planet, and the whole universe are less than ten thousand years old.

They want a report based on demonstrable, objective, scientific evidence to acknowledge beliefs that are based on religious faith.

This is repugnant to me, but rather than start flinging emotion-laden abuse around, I invite them (and any who sympathize with their actions) to consider this:

How would they feel if someone asked them to post a notice at their church pointing out that the physical evidence for a 4-billion-year-old Earth is far more comprehensive than the physical evidence for any of the amazing claims in the Bible?

I’m guessing they’d say “no”.  And that’s their right – a church is a place for building and maintaining a community  of common belief, and they should not be obliged to confront opposing beliefs within its confines (however well-grounded those opposing beliefs might be).

If they want to reject science and seek truth some other way, that’s their right.  But they have no right to insist that their unscientific beliefs be given voice in a scientific venue.

New Atheists?

2010/01/12

I often wonder just what is meant by the phrase “The New Atheists”. I think it depends on the speaker – it generally seems to mean something like “atheists who are prominent in the public sphere (unlike the good-ol’ days)” or “atheists who are more aggressive/irritating than they used to be”.

But prominent, assertive, active atheism is by no means new. Consider these quotes from Robert Green Ingersoll:

I will not attack your doctrines nor your creeds if they accord liberty to me. If they hold thought to be dangerous – if they aver that doubt is a crime, then I attack them one and all, because they enslave the minds of men.

Religion has not civilized man — man has civilized religion. God improves as man advances.

If a man would follow, today, the teachings of the Old Testament, he would be a criminal. If he would follow strictly the teachings of the New, he would be insane.

Ignorance is the soil in which belief in miracles grows.

In fact, listen to the podcast of his works.

Sound familiar? Now, Ingersoll was no minor figure. According to Tom Flynn (interviewed on Point of Inquiry), he was a very well-known public lecturer in America, as well as a campaigner for the Republican party. That’s over 100 years ago.

In fact, public atheism is millennia old, and the irritation it provides to entrenched religious beliefs is just as old. Consider Socrates, who was executed for spreading ideas considered harmful to the youth of the day. (It may be difficult to disentangle the religious from the political motivations for his prosecution – but I’ve no doubt that his enemies used religion in their arguments against him.)

In fact, I suspect that the main reason many people use the label “new” is that they people would like to consider this latest upswing of vocal religious dissent to be a flash-in-the-pan. They want it to be a fad which, like bell bottoms and mullets, will soon be a thing of the past.

Now, I don’t know if they had mullets in Socrates’ time, and “bell-bottom togas” seems redundant, but the “new” atheism is no passing fad. The only thing new about it, in fact, is probably that it’s the first time many of these individuals have been confronted with confident assertions of atheist belief. So the next time someone uses the phrase “new atheism”, I’ll think “new-to-you, maybe”.

For anyone interested in sampling the long tradition of atheist thought, I recommend the Humanist Anthology, edited by Margaret Knight and revised by Jim Herrick. I was given a copy for my birthday this last year, and have been discovering and rediscovering many beautiful nuggets of humanist compassion and reson, from the ancient Greek and Chinese philosophers to modern atheist writers.

Why should humanists be in chaplaincy?

2009/12/18

Humanitie, the quarterly magazine of the Humanist Society of Scotland, has a new issue out. Once again, Mike and I present our rather different perspectives – this time, on the relationship between humanists and chaplaincy. Don’t forget to read Mike’s column over at his blog.

I was recently asked a question about the place of humanists in chaplaincy life. In a chaplaincy, even an inclusive multi-faith chaplaincy, most people are religious. To what extent is it worthwhile and appropriate for humanists and other non-religious people to seek a place in chaplaincy?

The answer is obvious to me. Clearly, though, some religious people and even many humanists don’t see things as I do. So here is my take on it.

First, some background. Our university chaplaincy is very deliberately open to students and staff of “all faiths and none“.

My earliest experience with the chaplaincy was when I was first learning and reading about humanism, and coming to realize that it reflected a deep part of my identity. I started looking for like-minded people, for a community to connect with. I had heard of the chaplaincy and its openness to people of no religion. I visited the chaplain and asked if she knew of any humanist groups at the university. She didn’t, but she thought it would be wonderful if there were a group. She also pointed me to the Humanist Society of Scotland (HSS), which has an Edinburgh group.

There is a whole story following on from that – of attending an HSS philosophy book group, of meeting another humanist student, of forming a student group with him that has become far more active and successful than I expected – but for now let’s look at that first move on my part. Why did I go to the chaplaincy in search of humanists?

First, there was my awareness that the chaplaincy branded itself as inclusive – they reach out not only to religious folks, but to folks like me. Second, for all that some humanists like to distance themselves from religious believers, there is a crucial feature that we share. Humanism is a framework for seeking meaning, for defining an ethical stance, and for sharing inspiration and expressing awe. For most religious people I’ve talked to, their religion does just the same: it provides meaning, defines ethics, and it is the lens through which inspiration and awe are experienced and shared. Also, perhaps even more importantly, both humanism and religions are identities around which human communities gather. So humanism is to me as religion is to religious folks. Even then, new as I was to humanism, I could see that.

So it seemed obvious that the chaplaincy – a place for religious folks to meet like-minded people, a place for people to go for spiritual counselling, and a place that explicitly included non-religious people in its remit – was the right place to look for humanist groups at the university.

And of course, that answers the question I opened with too. If chaplaincy is an obvious place for a lone humanist to go in search of kindred spirits, then chaplaincy is an obvious place for a humanist group to be connected with so that those lone humanists can find us.

Yes, there is the Internet. Yes, there are other avenues for us to find one another. But that’s no reason to shut such an obvious means of connection. Besides, the sort of personal bond that people visiting the chaplaincy tend to seek is not something that can be transmitted through a computer screen.

Of course, there is more to the chaplaincy than just finding folks like yourself. There is also the inter-faith element*. The idea of people of different backgrounds coming together to discover common ground. And I think that’s incredibly valuable. It’s something that’s lacking from a lot of the “culture war” discussions that get headlines. It’s important that humanists are involved in that as well.

True, I may think that the other guy’s god is imaginary. True, he may think that I’m destined for hell if I don’t come to believe as he does. But equally true is the fact that we both value compassion. We both try to buy products whose production doesn’t exploit the vulnerable. We both try to act in ways that will preserve the planet for the next generation. We both strongly believe in each other’s right to believe as we will.

In my experience, there is no place like a multi-faith chaplaincy for bringing people of different backgrounds together and helping us to realize how much we share. Not just superficial stuff. Deep stuff. Important stuff.**

Stuff we can draw on to make the world a better place, together.

That’s why humanists should be involved in chaplaincy, and in other inter-faith endeavours.

Footnotes (not included in the print version):

* Yes, I know, the term inter-faith is problematic for people like us, who consciously set ourselves apart from religious faith. It is also often used in a manner that really does exclude us. But until you can come up with a better term for a meeting of religious and non-religious worldviews, and show that other people will use and understand it, it’s better than nothing.

** A Unitarian church may do the same, but I don’t have enough experience at one yet to say for sure.

 

Confession of a born essentialist

2009/12/15

We have an innate tendency to psychological essentialism. Bruce Hood articulates this tendency well (see his book Supersense). His most vivid example is the serial-killer’s shirt. If you are given a nice shirt – one that fits well and suits your style and wardrobe – and told that it once belonged to a serial killer, how will you react? Most people will avoid the shirt – even avoid touching it. Of course, the shirt contains no “serial-killer essence”, but the association sparks something deep our psychology: we want to avoid objects that are associated with bad things.

This was probably hugely adaptive in our evolutionary history: if you avoid touching things that have been handled by, say, a seriously ill person, you are less likely to become infected yourself. It doesn’t matter if the reason you avoid them is rooted in an accurate knowledge of the germ theory of disease or an improbable metaphysical notion of guilt-by-association – if it saves your life and is affected by your genes, it will give you a selective advantage over people without the trait, or with a weaker version of the same trait.

Essentialist psychology provides a compelling explanation for why people would believe in certain immaterial properties of matter even if the universe is completely material. Which leads some philosophical naturalists (humanists, atheists, etc) to smugly think that we’ve risen above the illusion: we see through the illusory sense that our instincts push us into. We aren’t tricked into god-belief or imagining a life after death.

Well, it’s not that easy.

I was playing with Kaia (my 2-year-old daughter), and she told me that her doll needed a nappy change*. As an expert, I was invited to conduct the procedure. I used a nose tissue to wipe the doll’s bottom.

When I went to put the tissue back in my pocket (for future use), I was momentarily overcome by my inner essentialist. I had a strong sense that the tissue was unclean. All simply because of an act of imagination!

I quickly realized what was happening, and put the tissue in my pocket anyway. In fact, once I became conscious of the illusion, it quickly dissipated. Thank goodness for skepticism. I wonder if I would have recovered as quickly if I had not, a few years ago, attended a talk here in Edinburgh given by Bruce Hood.

Have you ever had a “silly essentialist” moment like this? How did you react? How did you feel once you realized what was going on?

* I feel I should point out that this wasn’t one of those modern imagination-free dolls that actually produce wet nappies.

Christians against sectarianism

2009/11/20

I wrote just the other day about the new humanist ad campaign – this time directed at combating sectarianism.

I’m delighted to report that the campaign is drawing support not only from other humanists, but also from religious people. The Evangelical Alliance has put out a press release in support of the ads’ message:

Justin Thacker, Head of Theology at the Evangelical Alliance said: “It is great to see that the Humanists are now agreeing that children have to make their own decisions about faith. 

“Evangelicals do not believe that God has any grandchildren, only children. You are not a Christian simply because your parents are. Every child or adult has to make up their own minds about the reality of God.

Thanks to Dale for pointing out this welcome source of agreement with the humanist campaign. Like him, I was unable to find any mainstream media noting this support – only religious publications like Christianity Today and Ekklesia. Not to demean those publications – I simply mean to point out that, in the interest of controversy, the mainstream media has once again missed an important part of the story: they seem to have latched onto the frothing and uninformed reaction of a fundamentalist Irish minister, who doesn’t seem to have read the ads, and certainly hasn’t read the background information.

Why don’t we all help spread the word? Let’s make it clear that this is an issue that can and does resonate with many segments of society, not just with the nonreligious.

Campaign against sectarianism

2009/11/18

I recently shared some brief thoughts about sectarian education (“faith schools”) in the UK. I’ve now learned of a follow-up to the hugely popular atheist bus campaign.

The British Humanist Association is launching the “Atheist Billboard Campaign“. An interesting twist is that (contrary to what many kneejerk commentators are likely to declare), the billboards do not promote atheism at all.

Accompanying a picture of two unbearably cute kids jumping joyfully (left) is the text:

“Please don’t label me. Let me grow up and choose for myself.”

Another version (right) says:

“No faith schools. Yes you can donate today.”

Yes, I suppose “No faith schools” may sound, to some ears, like a promotion of atheism, or at least an attack on religion. It’s not – and the campaign is clear in that it’s against sectarianism, not against religion in general. However you feel about it, the idea appears to enjoy popular support. A poll by Accord reports that 57% of people in the UK feel that faith schools undermine community cohesion. A four-year-old poll reported in the Guardian reports ’64% agreeing that “the government should not be funding faith schools of any kind”.’

Now look at the text in the background of the ad (it’s clearest in the big version, which I’ve included at the bottom of this post). Clearly among the labels that we should avoid (according to the ad) are “agnostic child”, “atheist child”, and “humanist child”.

If you agree with this message – that children should not be labelled according to the beliefs of their parents, and that faith schools should not be publicly funded, go donate to the campaign here or here. If you disagree, or aren’t sure, go learn more.

And, as always, please let me know what you think.

Marc on temperance

2009/11/17

I quite like this stoic advice from my good friend Marc (Meditations, book 4, paragraph 22):

Never allow yourself to be swept off your feet; when an impulse stirs, see first that it will meet the claims of justice; when an impression forms, assure yourself first of its certainty. 

This sounds like fine and noble advice. But I also get the impression that, to many of the more fiery folks I know, Marc’s words might seem to limit the human experience. Am I simply getting old, or are these words truly as wise as they seem?

 

Persuasion without communication?

2009/11/10

Dale McGowan has an excellent series of posts underway at his Meming of Life blog. In particular, these two on “siloing” have caught my attention: “Silos” and “Unsilos“. In them, he discusses our tendency as humans to build communities of like-thinking people around ourselves so much that we cut ourselves off from people who disagree, becoming unable to communicate and empathise with them.

I do it as much as anyone else, and I’m quite conscious of it.

Which is why (among other things) I read several blogs written from well outside my own particular silo.

Which is why I came across this very interesting idea – almost a blog-meme – from Jim at Quodlibeta:

What three books would you recommend to people who disagree with your religious beliefs, whatever they are, and why? 

(Note that Jim got the idea from a political blog – clearly the concept applies to any kind of silo.)

Now, my recent experience of trying out a book recommended by a thoughtful religious friend was somewhat disappointing. (I discuss it in a series of posts starting here.) But the idea of trying to reach across communities of thought appeals to me, so I clicked through from my reader to check out the comments.

The first comment jumped out at me for two reasons.

One, it recommends “John Earman’s Hume’s Abject Failure: The Argument Against Miracles – To finally blast Hume’s argument to oblivion.” Hume’s thoughts on miracles have seemed like pretty basic common sense to me, ever since I first read them (here):

“… no testimony is sufficient to establish a miracle, unless the testimony be of such a kind, that its falsehood would be more miraculous, than the fact, which it endeavours to establish … When anyone tells me, that he saw a dead man restored to life, I immediately consider with myself, whether it be more probable, that this person should either deceive or be deceived, or that the fact, which he relates, should really have happened.” 

I think this is a common element in many skeptics’ rejection of religious claims. So it’s probably worth my time to check out Earman’s book – just in case Hume’s argument does have a fatal hole that only an ‘outsider’ might notice.

And the other thing that jumped out at me from this comment was the following recommendation:

Anything from Nietzsche – To show the only viable alternative. 

In the context of the post, this probably means either the only viable alternative to Christianity or to belief in some god more generally. My immediate reaction was to turn off. Nietzsche as the only alternative to theism? Obviously, this person isn’t interested in understanding me, so why should I try to understand him.

But, remembering Dale’s thoughts about siloing, I realized that someone else’s insensitivity is not an excuse for me to shut down discussion. So I think I will have a look at Nietzsche. I also (gently, I hope) pointed out how that comment sounded from my perspective.

Also, with care (given my rebuke of the Nietzsche idea), I offered my choices of books. I reproduce my comments here for your consideration:

—–

A fascinating challenge. I don’t tend to try to persuade people, but I am very interested in helping people to understand my position.

To that end, I would include a good book on humanism, such as Richard Norman’s On Humanism.

If my interlocutor didn’t accept evolution, I would be tempted to include Dawkins’ The Ancestor’s Tale. (I recommend it even to people who accept evolution, because it’s an awesome pilgrimage through the details of our biological history.) However, I suspect that just the author’s name would be a roadblock to persuasion. So I’d probably try something by Carl Sagan (Demon-Haunted World) instead.

And I’d recommend a practical book on skeptical thinking, which is more important to me in terms of persuading others than religious belief or non-belief, though the two are of course related. Probably Ben Goldacre’s Bad Science.

—–

Okay, now you give it a try. What three books would you recommend to someone in a different silo, and why? Have you read the books I mention? Did they persuade you of anything? Why or why not?

Ten random beliefs meme

2009/10/05

I love a good meme, and once again Ken of C. Orthodoxy has passed on a zinger. Here are the rules, from the meme’s originator, Clayboy:

Post a collection of 10 things you believe, ethical, philosophical or theological. You choose how much to connect them or make them coherent: do you want people to know where you belong, or do you want to mix and match to keep them guessing? I encourage you not to aim for a totally coherent credal statement of faith, and I also encourage you to put one or two in about controversial topics.

Let’s see…

  1. I believe that ultimate truths may be within our reach as a species, but absolute certainty is not.
  2. I believe there is a lot of potential value in symbols and stories, and that religions make better use of this value than humanist communities and individuals tend to. (I also believe that their power can make symbols and stories dangerous if used irresponsibly.)
  3. I believe that claims about what is physically true are of a different sort to claims about what is good or moral. The former are simple facts, independent of perspective, existing with or without observers. The latter are at least relative to (and so dependent on) our nature as a social species. They are not, however, relative to our personal whims and desires.
  4. I believe that scientific skepticism is a healthy and appropriate attitude to any belief that people want to persuade me of.
  5. I believe that a person’s actions are more important than their beliefs. Beliefs are mainly important to the extent that they inform and motivate actions. (I also believe that a shocking number of people spend more time rationalizing actions that clash with their beliefs than they spend trying to tailor their actions to their beliefs.)
  6. I believe that powdered cheese is one of the most pernicious evils of modern society, followed closely by processed cheese slices and liquid cheese.
  7. I believe that questions of good and evil are properly independent of questions of the existence of any god. (I believe that the ethical framework I try to follow would be equally valid whether or not a god exists.)
  8. I believe that consciousness is a product of physical processes in my brain and body.
  9. I believe that consciousness is the most important thing in the universe.
  10. I believe we must always accept the possibility that we might be wrong, but that we should not live in fear of it happening. (This one is cribbed shamelessly from Ken, because it suits me so well.)
  11. I believe that every cell in my body is a direct descendent of some primordial replicator that appeared on Earth around 3.5 billion years ago.
  12. I believe that free software (and Linux in particular) is a woefully under-experienced joy in the world.
  13. I believe that my wife is beautiful and my daughter is smart (and vice versa).
  14. I believe that, like James McGrath, I need to learn about counting to ten.

I’m reluctant to tag people, but if you choose to pick up this meme, please post a link in the comments.

Defending Christians

2009/09/23

From the Friendly Atheist, I have learned that there is a couple in Liverpool facing criminal charges for saying things that hurt the feelings of a Muslim woman who was staying at their hotel.

According to the Telegraph,

Among the things Mr Vogelenzang, 53, is alleged to have said is that Mohammad was a warlord. His wife, 54, is said to have stated that Muslim dress is a form of bondage for women.

The couple now face fines up up to £2500 each and a criminal record under Section 5 of the Public Order Act (causing harassment, alarm or distress).

Now, I generally don’t trust the press’s ability (or inclination) to accurately portray events such as these. However, if we assume for the moment that the Telegraph isn’t distorting the facts, then this is an abominable application of a (probably) bad law. Sure, statements like those reported above aren’t particularly pleasant. But illegal?

According to the paper, the statements were made during a conversation the woman was participating in. She wasn’t being harassed; she wasn’t being bullied or proselytized. She was engaging in a conversation about her religious beliefs with people who didn’t share them. Certainly she should have been prepared for challenging statements?

Anyway, we’ll keep an eye on how this pans out. I’d really like to think that this country can learn to set aside or amend bad laws whose only function is to censor honest opinions which harm nobody.


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