Rated "E" for Evangelicals.
Author Archive for Bud
Rated "E" for Evangelicals.
[ This is part four of an ongoing series I call "Journey of One," which is meant to contain articles about me, my story, my journey, and the lessons learned from the life experiences. Here is part one: Journey of One: Brotherhood, and part two: Journey of One: Purpose, and part three: Journey of One: Mortality. ]
Journey of One: College
August, 1993: Steve and I arrive on the campus of Lincoln Christian College. We find our dorm rooms, unload our junk and begin to settle in. We were now officially Holers. Timothy Hall - or, as it was affectionately called, The Hole - was a sanctuary of brotherhood, comradery, and... testosterone. College life for me was filled with wrestling matches, boxing matches, intramural basketball, tackle football in the field with residents of Titus Hall (the other men's dorm, and our sworn rivals), practical jokes, gaming, watching zombie movies, or making our own movies. Or shooting each other with BB guns. During a boxing match, a music major chipped two of my teeth before I knocked him unconscious with a left hook. I'm not saying we always made the wisest choices. All I'm saying is, college was awesome.
Timothy Hall had a history spanning several decades. Being a Holer meant being part of long-standing traditions including (among other things): Midnight Mass (held at the beginning of the school year), Holerfest (featuring the famous Holerfest pig roast, held at the end of the school year), and my personal favorite, The Snowbird Classic.
Each year at midnight of the first snowfall of the year, Holers would gather together for the Snowbird, a race through the snow around the Seminary building. The rules were simple: participants had to run in nothing more than their underwear, and freshmen weren't allowed to wear shoes. The rules didn't apply to such things as cowboy hats, football helmets, capes, or other accessories (which I saw a few guys sporting). Each year a few of the more courageous young men ran the Snowbird in, shall we say, less than the standard clothing requirements. I am proud to count myself among the ranks of those dauntless souls who disregarded the cold and the snow (and the girls hiding in the bushes) to run around the Seminary building wearing nothing but a smile. That's right, folks: we were the future ministers and missionaries and teachers of the Bible. We were Holers.
Administration always hated The Hole. They were more concerned about their shiny Christian image, and saw The Hole as a threat. They feared losing financial support from the stodgy churchgoers who sent regular donations to LCC. Eventually they got their way, and Timothy Hall was closed for good and turned into an office building. Holers young and old were outraged, but there was nothing we could do. Still, I like to think the spirit of The Hole lives on in the hearts and minds of the men who once belonged to that dank, dark cave of a dorm. At least part of the spirit of The Hole still lingers in Timothy Hall. No matter what they do to that building, they just can't seem to get that peculiar smell out of it.
I suspect The Hole provided a much different Bible college experience for me and the other Holers than most other Bible college students. I know a college dorm is a college dorm, regardless of whether it's on a Bible college campus or not. But The Hole was different: it unified us, gave us an identity and even a sense of calling. Many looked at The Hole as a fraternity, and in many ways we acted just like one. Nowadays Holers maintain their sense of unity via The Official Holer Facebook Page. There's even an "Occupy the Hole" day now, where Holers from all over return to the building once known as Timothy Hall once a year to "retake the Hole." When Timothy Hall was decommissioned, Holers gathered on campus and removed the letters from the building (without the administration's approval, I might add. Typical of Holers). The letters are now scattered amongst some of the older Holers.
I have many good memories of The Hole, and still today harbor many strong emotions about it. At times those memories are bittersweet, because I feel disconnected now. The Holer motto was: "God First. The Hole Second. Everything Else Third." The Hole, perhaps more than any other factor, makes me wish I could still believe the way I did back then. Anger, even resentment, often overcasts my fond memories of The Hole. Why did I have to be indoctrinated into this religion? Why couldn't there have actually been any good reasons to believe in it? Such are the questions my emotional side asks. Christianity's mandate that it be ubiquitous in one's life - affecting every aspect of one's existence - is a necessary condition for its survival. If it can't be justified via evidence and reason, then it has to be reinforced in the mind of the believer somehow. Consequently, when I stepped away from Christianity, nearly every part of my life changed in some way. I had to step away. My reason, my conscience, my integrity, everything I uphold as virtuous demanded that I release myself from the confinements of this religion. Still, much like the prisoners in Plato's Cave, I had a hard time letting go in the midst of my liberation.
Today, many of my happier memories - like those of my time in The Hole - are associated in some way with the shadows of my former faith. Once in a while I'll rock out to an old song by a Christian band I used to listen to back in the day, and songs that Steve and I would listen to while hanging out in his room. Some of these songs are still favorites of mine, like this one:
Everybody Knows My Name - Bride [Album: Kinetic Faith]
I've come to terms with my past. If I want to listen to an old song that I used to love, who says I can't? This music is part of my past, part of my context, part of who I am still today. The Hole is the same way. I still wrestle with feeling like a pariah, but overall I am grateful for my experience. Having been there, experiencing Christianity "from the inside," has made me a better skeptic. It's easy to look at people two-dimensionally, especially on the Internet. When I come across criticisms about how "Christians are like this" or "Christians do that," I think of The Hole. Yeah, sometimes the criticisms are spot on. Being a Holer didn't make one immune to the common foibles of Christians. But many times the criticisms don't really reflect who I was when I was a Christian, or the community of my brothers who made up The Hole, or other Christians I have known or with whom I associate. When I see people criticize Christians poorly, I tend to speak up. I'm not defending Christianity; rather, I'm defending skepticism. Attacking straw men doesn't help the cause. If we are going to claim to think critically, then let's do it right.
— Dead-Logic
Cristina Rad offers us much to think about in this video response to Neil deGrasse Tyson:
[h/t: Why Evolution Is True]
Amidst the moans and groans (my own included) of "why are we still talking about Elevatorgate?" I realize now why Elevatorgate got so much attention - and why it's still a relevant topic today. Regardless of which side of the debate one finds herself, Elevatorgate touches on sensitive and important issues: feminism, women's rights, decent behavior, objectification of women, rape, sexuality, et al; moreover, Elevatorgate has revealed the worst in people. For reasons which are still unclear to me, Elevatorgate has elevated the emotional reactions of people to such issues which are already emotional firestarters. The results have been rather disturbing.
Rebecca Watson posted her video, About Mythbusters, Robot Eyes, Feminism, and Jokes - the video that started Elevatorgate - almost a year ago (Yeah, it's been that long already). Even so, folks on YouTube are still leaving comments on her video every day, most of which are degrading toward Rebecca:
These are a few of the comments I found today. Yeah, I'd say Elevatorgate is still relevant.
Like I said in my previous post, we should be beyond this by now. It's the 21st Century, kids. Time to grow up. Bigotry, misogyny, sexism, racism, age-ism, homophobia, should be the things we read about as we reflect tearfully on how the human race has transcended such atrocities.
Elevatorgate has been an emotionally-charged topic that has caused people on both sides of the debate to lose touch with rationality and decency. I'm not just talking about the losers on YouTube I quoted above, but people who claim to be part of the skeptic community: people who spend much of their time advocating logic and reason. When I wrote about Elevatorgate, I wanted to maintain a level of respect for Rebecca Watson, because I never believed she did anything to make anyone lose respect for her. I disagreed with some of the things she said, but I approached the issue as one skeptic disagreeing with another skeptic. Being a skeptic, and part of the skeptic community, means we should be able to diagree without demonizing each other; unfortunately, I've seen people use Elevatorgate as a litmus test for acceptance, and those who fail the test are ostracized.
I experienced this a few months ago in my first (and only) encounter with a blogger who goes by the name "ManBoobz". I had never heard of ManBoobz before this, but he apparently knew me. I should say, he knows of me, because he clearly doesn't know much about me at all. I found out about ManBoobz because he posted a link to one of my entrys on Elevatorgate and referred to me as a "decidedly non-feminist atheist."
Okay, maybe there was some sort of misunderstanding. I wanted to give Mr. ManBoobz the benefit of the doubt, so I visited his blog and commented on that particular post. What I experienced from the regulars over there was a barrage of insults with no real attempt to communicate. I've been blogging now for close to three years. I know one needs to develop a thick skin if one is going to post personal thoughts and opinions on the Internet. I don't get offended easily, but I also have no interest in getting into huge debates, and I especially have no desire to waste time talking with people who have already made up their minds, who won't consider a different perspective. And ManBoobz's regulars already considered me a douchebag, so what was the point? I don't mind so much that someone is talking trash about me. What bothers me about the whole scenario is that Mr. ManBoobz and I are supposedly on the same side vis-à-vis feminism and women's rights. If that's the case, then no thanks. I don't need that kind of teammate. I decided to bow out of the conversation on ManBoobz's blog. I'm sure they continued to insult me and talk about how wrong I am. They're just taking after their leader, after all:
This is the only thing David "ManBoobz" Futrelle said to me. What am I to think? Like I said, I had never heard of Mr. ManBoobz before that encounter. After visiting his blog that day, I haven't been back. After what I experienced, I've had no desire to read anything else ManBoobz has written. I say this to make the point that I don't really know this ManBoobz guy. I don't know what he's all about. I don't know whether my encounter with him is unique (although I suspect it's not). From what I've seen (which, admittedly, is very little), Mr. ManBoobz puts on this over-the-top "outraged!" persona on his blog and attempts to make his point via outrageous comments and sarcasm. "Misogyny. I Mock It" is his tag line. I don't know whether his "Rawr! I'm angry!" act is actually helping the cause at all or whether he's just putting on a show for his choir. I think Mr. ManBoobz means well and wants to do right by women. I can't really say much else about the guy. As I have been trying to express ad nauseum, I've only ever read one article by ManBoobz. I don't know him, and I'm not going to judge him; however, I will not excuse his demonization tactics. If Elevatorgate has taught me anything, it's that people are still prone to drawing battle lines and waging ideological wars, regardless of whether they wear the "skeptic" or "freethinker" label or not. Judgmentalism is certainly not the sole property of the religious (regardless of how adept they may be at it).
My encounter with ManBoobz reminds me of my exchange with Eugene Gerber. A comparison should be made between ManBoobz and Eugene. Regular readers may recall that I referred to Mr. Gerber as "stupid." Granted, my calling him stupid was to emphasize the importance of free speech and what not, but it was still a pretty brash thing to do on my part. Admittedly, leveling insults - even tongue-in-cheek insults - is a bit out of character for me, but I was trying to make a point. Eugene had the guts to visit my blog and comment respectfully. Eugene explained himself, and rather well I must say. In spite of my disagreeing with his position (not to mention in spite of being called stupid), Eugene's response was calm, cordial, and rational. Consequently, he and I engaged in a discussion that started on the blog, then moved to email, and ended in Eugene's posting two entries on the blog as a guest writer as well as my reconsidering my views in light of the best available evidence and argumentation.
I wrote about how difficult rethinking one's views can be, since we want to be right, and those of us who blog especially so, since we leave our words out there for the world to see and thus it's hard to just take something back that has been written (check out the Eugene Gerber Series). If everyone in the skeptic community were like Eugene Gerber, we'd be a hell of a lot better off. Here's the point: when Eugene visited my blog, he wasn't insulted or shooed off or called a douchebag. My regular readers engaged in rational conversation with Eugene, as did I. Critical thinking means something to us around here. I can't say how things work on other blogs, but around here we abide by a certain code.
That's how we roll.
ManBoobz, on the other hand, didn't even attempt to discuss things with me, but instead glibly lobbed another insult. Prior to that, his readers had already begun their insults. Instead of trying to understand my position, they attacked straw men; that is, when they weren't attacking me directly. Getting back to the main point, while Elevatorgate may not have been what triggered ManBoobz's behavior (he might act like that all the time), his actions represent the effect Elevatorgate has had on us. Elevatorgate represents the best and worst of us. Reactions to Rebecca Watson's comments created a snowball effect that's still felt almost a year later. Rebecca Watson is still being insulted, belittled, and verbally dehumanized. Douchebags are still drawing lines in the sand and attacking people on their own team because of it. Skeptics have abandoned skepticism because of it. So far, I think Elevatorgate has been most successful in both invigorating the sexists and misogynists and handicapping the feminists and freethinkers.
Well I'm drawing a line here. I say we turn Elevatorgate into something which reminds us of what really matters:
(Trigger Warning: rape, sexual assault)
Rebecca Watson was right in that we should be conscientious of how we approach others, whether we're looking for sex, a date, whether we actually just want coffee, or whatever our intentions might be. Women especially still live in fear, and we need to be mindful of how we make those around us feel. Fear of rape and assault is strong, and we still live in a culture that tries to find blame in the victim rather than the villain. But make no mistake: Rape is never the victim’s fault. People get raped regardless of what they’re wearing, or even what they look like. Both men and women get raped. No one is ever "asking for it."
A person should learn how to keep oneself safe, whether man or woman, and not just because of rape. And learning how to keep oneself safe doesn’t necessarily mean studying a martial art or carrying a weapon (though it might be the right choice for some). It means making smart choices, living defensively, to keep oneself safe. I hear a lot of people say we should teach men not to rape instead of teaching women how to not get raped. Yes, we should teach men not to rape. But until the day comes when all men listen, we should also be teaching women how to protect themselves.
Again, because people draw stupid conclusions, let me state this explicitly: the above advice in no way implies that rape is ever the victim’s fault. Self-protection comes with no guarantees. Violence is random, chaotic and surprising, and even those best trained and equiped to handle an assault can be overcome in a conflict. Learning to stay safe on the streets is a way to stay confident and keep the odds in one’s favor as much as possible. There are no guarantees. Still, I will repeat: advising people to learn how to defend themselves in no way at all implies that the victim of rape (or any assault) is to blame for what happened.
Men need to be educated on how to treat women. Period. Rape is bad. Rape jokes aren’t funny (sorry, Reddit). People should be able to tell someone that they were raped without fearing judgment or condemnation.
A woman should be able to wear whatever the hell she wants without being shamed by the conservatives and puritans, objectified by the misogynists and chauvinists, or belittled by the privileged and unenlightened.
A woman can show strength and power without utilizing her sexuality.
A woman can be sexual if she damn well pleases. The choice belongs to her.
Women are not weak.
Women need men to understand, not save them.
Men can and should be feminists.
Men should not be villified.
Feminists often disagree with each other on all sorts of things, and that's okay. We should do our best to help each other figure out the best way to uphold the values we share.
— Dead-Logic
The problem with being a Bible college graduate is that I'm friends on Facebook with a lot of other people who attended my alma mater. Usually that's not so bad. Sometimes, however, I see stuff like this:
A fellow former Lincoln Christian College student posted this on his profile. He got it from some guy named J.D. Cash. I have no idea who this guy is other than he hates Obama at least as much as he hates the gays. As the above image indicates, J.D. and his followers like to make fun of the president by making Obama look gay (because being gay is totally not good. Duh). Here's another example:
Prejudice makes people do strange things. It even makes people who claim to believe in a god of love act with pure hate. Nothing new. This is what typically happens when people abandon reason, education, and compassion. There's even the old "if gays get to marry, people will start marrying animals next" nonsense in the comments. Look, folks, at this point, arguing about why gays should have the same rights as anyone else is like arguing about why women should vote, or black people shouldn't be slaves, or how the moon isn't made out of cheese. We should be beyond this by now. We don't throw Christians to lions, and we don't burn witches at the stake, because we've moved past such things. Yet here we are, witnessing people who want to maintain the old guard: an antiquated and unenlightened mindset in which one group of self-proclaimed "righteous" people feels it has the right to tell other groups of people whom the people in those groups can and cannot love. And there are still a lot of them. We should be beyond such bigotry, but, sadly, we're not.
For now.
There might be a ray of hope here though. This J.D. Cash person made an interesting comment: "Obama will do anything for a vote." Suppose that's true, and the only reason Obama is supporting gay marriage is because he wants more votes. Doesn't that mean the majority of people think gay marriage should be legal? Perhaps we are starting to move beyond the bigotry after all, and J.D. and his ilk are on the losing side of the battle. Just a thought...
— Dead-Logic
I mentioned before that I am a long-time Magic: the Gathering player. For those who don't know, Magic is a competitive trading card game with a fantasy theme: magic, wizards, angels, vampires, dragons, knights, zombies, et cetera. I've been playing the game since its release in 1993. I've made a lot of friends at local game stores along the way. I don't play nearly as often as I used to, but I still keep up with the latest news about the game by visiting some of the popular sites dedicated to Magic, such as StarCityGames.com, MTG Salvation, and Channel Fireball. Magic is one of many activities which fall under the "gamer" subculture, a culture frequently mocked, parodied or stereotyped (for example, Comic Book Guy).
I am a gamer. Maybe that's one reason why I'm not a big fan of labels, because labels evoke predetermined ideas and judgments people have. I say "gamer," and one person might think, "obsessed fanboy who's fluent in Klingon," or "socially awkward geek who brags about killing the dragon in last night's Dungeons & Dragons session," or "total loser who lives in his mom's basement." Stereotypes have their origin in generalizations. Generalizations can be either accurate or not. Without question, "gamer" has a particular stereotype attached to it.
So here's my problem with labels. I told you I'm a gamer, but what does that label tell you? Not much, except that I apparently play some sort of game or games. And it's probably safe to assume that these are games played almost exclusively by - insert another label here - geeks. But that's about all that label really says. Of course, each person adds her own spin on what a "gamer" is. Usually it's not a positive spin. The mental picture is, of course, the socially inept goofy guys with poor hygiene. Everyone views a label through one's own preconceived notions. Consider the following labels:
Pro-choice
Republican
Christian
Atheist
Vegetarian
Goth
Prep
Feminist
Punk
Environmentalist
These are labels people are given or take upon themselves. The list is random - whatever popped into my head - but each of these labels (along with most other labels) shares the same flaw: not everyone is going to interpret these labels the same way. What we bring to them is usually what we take away from them. The bane of labels is that they lead to miscommunication. The boon of labels is that, in spite of this, they point to a person's context.
Context is defined as, "the set of circumstances or facts that surround a particular event, situation, etc." (Dictionary.com). Context is one's setting or frame of reference. To exist at all is to exist in a particular context. Context is the most important word a person will ever learn vis-à-vis one's education. To understand anything - an event in history, a passage in a work of literature, a line in a speech, the thoughts and values of a person, the reason Meg Ryan faked an orgasm in a diner in When Harry Met Sally - one must understand its context. A person's context influences that person, and helps shape her thoughts, emotions, values and tastes.
I said I'm a gamer. That means my context includes being part of the gaming culture. I've met a lot of people, many of whom I consider friends, through the common interest we share, namely Magic: the Gathering. But gaming is only one part of who I am. My friends were very surprised to find out that I'm an avid sports fan. I had never talked about sports to them, mostly because they aren't interested in it, so why bother? If my context were different and all my friends were sports nuts and not gamers, then I'd talk about sports a lot and they'd be surprised to find out I played Magic. Most people who meet me are surprised when they find out that I used to be an ordained Christian minister, or that I am a martial arts instructor, or that I'm divorced with three kids who live in Colorado with their mother.
Sometimes my context surprises me. A few months ago I read an article about Magic by a guy named Conley Woods. The name sounded awfully familiar to me, so I looked him up. Sure enough, Conley is my dad's grandson. Turns out Conley is rather well-known in Magic: the Gathering circles (like here, here and here). I call Conley my dad's grandson because he is the son of my dad's daughter Debbie, whose mother is my dad's first wife. My dad and his first wife divorced, and at some point Debbie and my dad had a falling out and she disappeared from his life. She re-emerged years later when I was in high school, several years after dad had married my mom. Debbie was living with a guy and they had an infant son together, Conley, along with his baby brother.
Last time I saw Conley, he was two years old, maybe three. Debbie didn't stay in the picture for long. Disagreements and complications which will remain private led to her once again disappearing from my dad's life, taking Conley and his brother with her. It was a hard time for my dad, though he never said much about it. I think he tried to block out the memories. Now, 20 years later or so, I stumble across Conley within the context of one of my favorite games, and the whole thing's surreal. It's just odd. I don't even know how to describe the emotions. I see my dad's features in his face. Conley's the reason I started writing this blog entry in the first place. Something in my context, via my association with the gamer subculture, has caused me to sit back and reflect on the past, and on my dad, and on my life.
Seeing Conley just gave me a sense of perspective, a nearly epiphanic jolt that reminded me of how much time has passed, how quickly the years go by, and how much has happened in that time: not just concerning Conley, but everything within my context. My oldest son is a teenager. If Kim and I were still married, this October would have been our third anniversary. Has it really been that long since I went through the hell of my second marriage ending? Doesn't feel like it's been that long. Had Becka and I stayed together, we would have celebrated our 14th anniversary this past February. "Time flies" is cliché, but what's funny is that it's actually an understatement.
To tie my introspection to the topic of this article, thinking about the complexities of my own context reminds me that I'm not unique in this respect: everyone has a context that's just as complex, and confusing, and confounding. I'm reminded of something I have advocated for a long time: we should be careful not to rush to conclusions about a person. We may not know all the factors (both internal and external) that led to a person's actions. And we don't always know the reasons or true motives behind a given decision. We have a difficult enough time answering the question "Who am I?" for ourselves. How much more difficult then it is to answer that question for someone else.
That point has really hit home for me since accepting the "atheist" label.
— Dead-Logic
I basically stole this "link round-up" idea from this guy. You know what they say, imitation is the sincerest form of... laziness, or something.
Believe in global warming... just like the Unabomber.
On a related note, here's one of my favorite logical fallacies: Reductio ad Hitlerum.
RIP Adam "MCA" Yauch, one of my all-time favorites. It was an honor to see him and the Beasties grow over the years.
Richard Feynman describes the scientific method.
"Dear Dr. Laura, more advice on how to uphold biblical principles please" (via George Takei).
Some Christians know atheists all too well. Who blew our cover?
Should atheists slam religion or show respect?
People in Tennessee still hate gay people? That unheard of! #sarcasm
Dear Skeptic Community, here's an important message for you.
If you love the platypus as much as I do, then here are six things you should know about it.
Check out these new Chick Tracts. Jack Chick continues to raise religious nutbaggery to a whole new level.
— Dead-Logic
[I wrote this a couple days before I wrote The Path of a Critical Thinker (part five). This open letter prompted me to write that entry.]
The problem of religion is found in baseless accusations by believers that non-believers are doomed or damned or defiled because of their lack of belief. Yes, the accusation is baseless. I don't care whether you believe in god. I really don't care whether you find hope or comfort or joy in a particular religion. Believe whatever you want. You don't have to prove it to me. I'm not your keeper, or your judge, or your intellectual or moral authority. But when you accuse me of rebelling or denying or "suppressing the truth," or when you accuse me of immorality or depraved thinking because I don't agree with your religious beliefs, then you damn well better cough up some evidence to back up your claim. See, you can believe whatever you want. If you keep it to yourself and leave me out of it, then fine. Believe in gods, unicorns, mystical space dragons, or whatever. the moment you drag me into it - the moment you start assaulting my character or integrity - then you had better be able to back it up.
You may find comfort in your little beliefs by thinking your ever-so-amazing personal experience is "proof enough" of what you believe (even though millions of people of many different beliefs have had similar experiences throughout history), but your anecdotal evidence, your interpretations of your personal experience, your emotional reactions don't justify or support anything. If you want to convince me, then you need actual reasons. You need to demonstrate that your beliefs are true with logic and reason. If you can't - and from what I've seen, you can't - then you need to stop hurling accusations and keep your faith to yourself.
— Dead-Logic
Mike D reminded me recently of the video series by YouTuber Evid3nc3, and this video in particular:
I think this is a nice follow-up to my previous entry.
— Dead-Logic
From Plato's Cave to Descartes' Malignant Demon to the Wachowski brothers' virtual world of the Matrix, our assumptions of what we know (and think we know) about "the real" continue to be challenged. I've studied epistemology extensively, and I still can't quite tell you exactly how I know what I know, or what I know, or whatever. And I think we're all pretty much in the same boat. Herein lies the importance of critical thinking. A critical thinker holds her beliefs with an open hand, and doesn't stop examining, questioning, and studying, and doesn't assume that she's figured out all the mysteries of the universe, because she wants her beliefs to conform to reality as much as possible. A critical thinker bases her thoughts and actions on the best explanation of the evidence, requiring the application of logic, and the use of reason.
- Belief vs. Conviction
I see a very important distinction between belief and conviction, and more people need to see it as well. Belief and conviction, while related, differ significantly concerning the need for evidence. Skeptics will commonly uphold the idea that one should have good reason (i.e., a reason for belief based on logic, evidence, and the best explanation of the data) to believe something. Generally, I think this is true. Why believe something if you have no good reason to believe it? But there are some things we believe which (I contend) we may believe without requiring sufficient evidence. Consider two guys: Bill and Ray. Bill believes in the existence of aliens. Ray believes that one day humans will figure out how to safely travel the speed of light like in Star Wars. Does either of these guys have sufficient evidence to warrant their respective beliefs? I would argue that they are basing these beliefs more on a "hunch" or a "gut feeling." That's not to say there's no reasoning at all behind their beliefs. Bill might consider how enormous the universe is and how little of it we've been able to study, and based on this fact, coupled with his understanding of how life evolved on Earth, he could understandably come to believe that there are (or were) lifeforms of some sort elsewhere in the universe. Likewise, Ray might consider the fact that our scientific understanding and technological advancements are increasing at an exponential rate, and base his belief on the thought that it's only a matter of time before we figure out how to travel at lightspeed.
But what if these beliefs became convictions? Belief is a mental attitude of acceptance or assent toward a proposition: "I think this is true." We don't always have control over what we believe, and we don't always hold on to beliefs strongly or dogmatically. Conviction, on the other hand, is firmly held belief that prompts one to action. All convictions are beliefs, but not all beliefs are convictions. Imagine if Bill's belief in aliens turned into a conviction that motivated him to spread the word about aliens, and try to convince other people to believe as he does. Imagine further that, as Bill proselytizes, he judges and condemns anyone who doesn't believe in the existence of aliens. Imagine yet further that Bill alters his lifestyle to accomodate the day when aliens will visit our planet. He builds a spare room for the aliens when they arrive. He refuses to date or marry someone who doesn't share his belief in aliens and his hope in the great and glorious Day in which the aliens will come to earth and show us the way to enlightenment. Now, Bill's otherwise harmless and perfectly okay belief in aliens has become completely irrational, not because the evidence has changed, but because this unjustified belief, rather than merely serving as a form of emotional or psychological relief or satisfaction, has become a foundation upon which Bill has based his life, attitude and behavior: a foundation lacking proper rational support.
When an unjustified belief becomes a conviction, since the belief rests on a foundation that lacks support, the conviction will likely lead to further beliefs or doctrines - matters of both orthodoxy and orthopraxy - that are even more irrational than the initial conviction. The history of religion is replete with examples of this. Belief in god, based on faith or personal experience or something like, as William Lane Craig says, the "inner witness of the Holy Spirit," or other such non-rational foundations, has taken otherwise well-intentioned people and led them into holy wars, bigotry, hatred, judgmentalism, mass suicides, the denial of science, "God Hates Fags," racism, the justification of slavery, The Inquisition, the oppression of women, the indoctrination of children, genital mutilation, the rejection of medicine in favor of prayer to cure illness and disease, and bad rock music - just to list a few examples.
Let's say someone believes in god (however that person chooses to define the term). Fine, believe that. I don't care. When this person then turns that belief into a life-changing conviction, that's where doubts arise concerning whether there is sufficient warrant to justify that conviction. I've seen believers base who they marry, where they go to school, how they spend their free time, what they do for a living, how they raise their children, who their friends are, et cetera, on (primarily religious) beliefs they cannot defend intellectually. What's worse, when someone with such conviction judges, condemns, belittles, or (as we've seen throughout history) persecutes those who do not share those beliefs, the amplitude of the believer's irrationality is seen in its entirety. An agnostic would content that intellectual warrant simply does not exist to hold on to exclusively religious beliefs with life-changing conviction. Any religionist who desires to walk the path of a critical thinker must face this issue. Basing important life choices on beliefs held on faith, or a "gut feeling" or some sort of personal experience - even experiences so emotionally satisfying that they leave someone feeling so confident that her beliefs are true - is not rational.
Once the distinction between belief and conviction is understood, I think a further distinction must be drawn; namely, between belief and suspicion. By "suspicion" I mean an inclination toward thinking something is true, but not necessarily full-fledged belief or intellectual assent. Considering Bill and Ray once again, perhaps referring to their beliefs as suspicions - i.e., they suspect that their respective propositions are true - is more accurate. People do this all the time. Bill might suspect that O.J. Simpson did in fact murder his wife. Ray might suspect that the Chicago Cubs will never win a World Series in his lifetime. Bill and Ray may not have conclusive proof to support these inclinations, but I wouldn't consider either person irrational for holding such a suspicion. This blog has been from the beginning a way for me to emphasize and defend the importance of critical thinking and basing one's thoughts and actions on logic, reason, and evidence. One of the first topics I wrote about on this blog dealt with belief apart from proof. While my thoughts on the distinctions between suspicion/belief/conviction had not yet been clarified as clearly as they are now, the general idea was there from the beginning. My thoughts then reflect my thoughts now vis-à-vis critical thinking and rationality:
I contend that holding a belief apart from proof is in itself not diametrically opposed to a life of truth-seeking, freethought or critical thinking. Believing "just because that's what I believe" is intellectually neutral. Belief runs contrary to critical thinking when:
1. one refuses to subject her belief to rational scrutiny and critique;
2. one refuses to examine the evidence against her belief;
3. one refuses to examine the evidence for opposing beliefs;
4. one refuses to examine said evidence objectively;
5. one claims to possess knowledge and proof when in truth she has neither;
6. one is in love with her paradigm too much to change it;
7. one continues to ignore overwhelming evidence in order to keep her belief;
8. one believes her belief is true because she believes it;
9. one acts with deep conviction on a belief for which she has no evidence.
(This is not an exhaustive list, but should suffice for the purposes of this entry.)
Previously: part four | Next: part six
— Dead-Logic
Predictably, Neil deGrasse Tyson's thoughts on the "atheist" label drew some mixed reviews. The criticism which, in my estimation, deserves the most attention is the argument that we do nothing to overcome the stigma attached to the "atheist" label by shunning or avoiding it. I think this is a point worth considering. I don't know whether NDT is uncomfortable with the label because of the negative baggage folks put on it; either way, I know many people who don't believe in god(s) - which, by definition, makes them atheists - who refuse to call themselves atheists because the word atheist is looked at as an evil word by so many ignorant people.
There are other people who avoid the "atheist" label because they are uncomfortable being associated with the social group known as atheists. Clearly, NDT fits into this category (regardless of whether he belongs in the former category also). I find myself in this category as well (as I explained in the previous entry), not because I don't trust people who call themselves atheists, but because I don't trust groups organized under the banner of atheism. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy the fact that those of us who share similar passions, values and vision can commune together as freethinkers and truth seekers. I would just prefer to unite under positive ideologies rather than find unity in nothing more than what we are not. And since I'm not saying anything I haven't said already, I may as well continue to quote myself further:
Some atheists want to be more unified, and I understand an important reason behind that desire is to be well-represented in our society. We still live in a country in which admitting agnosticism or atheism is political suicide. Non-theists need a voice in the public square; however, the danger is that one day "atheist" will be spelled with a capital A and then Atheists will risk falling into dogmatism and a herd mentality, which is what they wanted to avoid in the first place. I don't trust anything that a person has to be "converted to" in order to accept.
This is certainly a reflection of why I prefer the labels "skeptic" and "freethinker" over "atheist" to describe myself, but if atheists want to unite, they should unite under the banner of logic, science, the desire to gain knowledge and form beliefs on the basis of reason, independent of authority or tradition, and the willingness to change one's views in light of the best evidence available currently. Fortunately, many atheists are united for such purposes, which is why I feel more at home in the atheist culture than anywhere else. [source]
NDT is correct: it's odd that the word "atheist" exists. The word is a negative, a description of what one is not, like "non-skier" or "non-golfer." Odd though it may be, the word exists because it was forced on us. As Wikipedia explains: "The term atheism originated from the Greek ἄθεος (atheos), meaning "without god", used as a pejorative term applied to those thought to reject the gods worshipped by the larger society. With the spread of freethought, skeptical inquiry, and subsequent increase in criticism of religion, application of the term narrowed in scope." If society began to shun, judge, or condemn everyone who didn't golf, then "non-golfer" would likely become as common a term as "atheist."
Neil deGrasse Tyson isn't the only one who finds the word "atheist" curious. Sam Harris - who quite obviously embraces the "atheist" label - wrote: In fact, "atheism" is a term that should not even exist. No one ever needs to identify himself as a "non-astrologer" or a "non-alchemist." We do not have words for people who doubt that Elvis is still alive or that aliens have traversed the galaxy only to molest ranchers and their cattle. Atheism is nothing more than the noises reasonable people make in the presence of unjustified religious beliefs. We note the irony of the existence of a word that describes a thing that isn't a thing and an "ism" that isn't an "ism" at all when we playfully employ new descriptive terms like A-Unicornist and NonStampCollector.
So what's the answer? How do we remove the stigma? I'm not sure we can. Every label has baggage attached to it. The best we can do is continue to educate, which is precisely what NDT is all about. Say what you must about Neil deGrasse Tyson, but, regardless of what label he chooses for himself, he has done more to defend and uphold the same positive values and ideals held by many atheists than most of those atheists will ever do in a lifetime.
— Dead-Logic
I won't be surprised if I learn that PZ Myers has written a scathing critique of Neil deGrasse Tyson's comments in the following video:
[via Big Think]
I don't read Myers' blog anymore, and I don't really care to start up again now, so unless someone tells me or shares it via Facebook or the blogosphere, I won't know about it. Naturally, I mention PZ because of the hoo-ha he started a while back within the atheist community over his definition of an atheist nonsense. I can sympathize with Neil Tyson's perspective, because my own thoughts are rather similar. Yes, reaching the point in which I was ready and able, both mentally and emotionally, to accept the fact that I am an atheist was a long, hard road. Yes, I am better off for having taken such a journey. And yes, I am an atheist - like Neil deGrasse Tyson - insofar as my worldview lacks belief in god(s). That's the definition of atheism. What I appreciate about Tyson's comments in this video is his emphasis on atheist as a cultural label, which is much different than just the dictionary definition. Here I can understand somewhat the point PZ Myers tried to communicate. No one who willingly bears the "atheist" label stays in the "lack of belief in god(s)" camp. Every "card-carrying" atheist I've met has constructed a cosmological and sociological worldview and lives one's life accordingly; furthermore, "atheist" as a cultural label indicates membership or association in a subculture of people who attend "Reason Rallys" and argue about women in elevators and uphold science and accept evolution and make fun of William Lane Craig. I'm not saying any of these are bad things, just cultural indicators.
Tyson isn't comfortable wearing the "atheist" label. Honestly, I don't blame him. In spite of my long, hard road to atheism, I still don't feel comfortable with the label. I much prefer "freethinker" or "philosopher," just as NDT prefers the term "scientist," because - and for the same reason as Tyson - such labels communicate that which is truly important to me. Lack of belief in god(s) isn't the important thing. My atheism isn't a dogma, but rather the current conclusion to which I have arrived based on the stuff that's actually important, like utilizing logic and reason, critical thinking, and evaluating the evidence. I don't really care whether someone is an atheist or not, or whether someone wants to use a label. We should be suspicious of labels. I don't care what people think nearly as much as why they think it.
— Dead-Logic
"How can life have any value," my former Christian apologist self would have inquired, "if the ultimate end of everyone is non-existence?" I, like many other defenders of the faith, stuffed the issue into a C.S. Lewis Box (a phrase I stole from Bee that's just a different and fun way to refer to a false dilemma or trilemma or any attempt to ignore other possible options): either life continues on for eternity or life has absolutely no value. More to the point a Christian apologist would attempt to make, either heaven awaits us or absolute nihilism is all we have. I argued along these lines back in my apologetics days:
If one day I will no longer exist, and everyone I know or could ever have any effect or influence on will also one day cease to exist, then what is the point of it all? How does anything I do now matter at all if the ultimate end is oblivion? Sinners and saints, murderers and martyrs, simpletons and scholars, the good, the bad, and everyone in between all face the same fate. Does it matter how we run the race if we're all going to end up finishing the same way (or, rather, not finishing the same way), with no benefit, no reward, no ultimate goal or destination?
The argument carries an emotional punch that hits us right in our desire for justice, survival, and purpose, and many people, reeling from the impact, fail to see the inherent flaws in the argument. One such flaw is that eternity doesn't imply meaningfulness. Meandering about aimlessly forever with no end can be just as meaningless and pointless as any finite existence. A life that has no end has no more guarantee of being a life of value than a life that is terminal. Astute readers might be asking at this point, "what makes something meaningful or valuable?" This leads me to explain another flaw, found in the understanding of "meaning" and "value." Both terms are subjective: for something to have meaning or value it must be meaningful to or valued by someone. My life has meaning, and my life has value, because I have given my life meaning, and I value the life I have. Eternity is not required. In fact, as I said in a previous entry, each breath I draw is valuable to me precisely because I do not have an unlimited supply. Even if there is some sort of life beyond death, it won't be this life, and that limited quantity of life makes it precious to me. I don't want to waste it because it won't last forever.
Theists often defend an "objective" or "intrinsic" value to life, which they argue comes from god, but that defense isn't justified. If our lives have value and meaning because god values our lives and makes them meaningful, then the value and meaning are still subjective, and necessarily so, given that said value and meaning come from god's emotions or prejudices or preferences. There is nothing intrinsic about the value of life in the theist's scenario, because if god ever changed his mind about human life, then human life would cease to have value and meaning.
The most egregious flaw (in my estimation) in the argument is that it's both a non sequitur and an example of the argumentum ad consequentiam fallacy. It's a non sequitur because whether god's existence has any effect on the value and meaning of human life has no bearing on the truth of - and proof of - god's existence. The argument can be boiled down to this:
Without god, life is meaningless.
We want our lives to have meaning.
Therefore, god exists.
The conclusion does not follow from the premises; concordantly, the argument is not based on reason, but on an appeal to the (supposed) consequences of a world without god, and thus it commits the argument from (adverse) consequences fallacy. Even if we concede that the theists are correct and life has no value, meaning or purpose without god, we come no closer to understanding the truth of whether god actually exists.
This leads me to my final thought: reality is what it is, regardless of what we want. Truth, whatever it is, remains the truth even if we hate it; even if it pisses us off; even if it makes us happy. To borrow the words of Shakespeare, "truth is truth to the end of reckoning."
— Dead-Logic
[ This is part three of an ongoing series I call "Journey of One," which is meant to contain articles about me, my story, my journey, and the lessons learned from the life experiences. Here is part one: Journey of One: Brotherhood, and part two: Journey of One: Purpose. ]
Journey of One: Mortality
The subject which hits closest to home for me – and I am certainly not unusual in this regard – resounds in the old gospel song, "Will the Circle Be Unbroken?" Mortality and death are not easy topics, not only because of our instinctive desire to survive, but also – maybe more so – because death forces us to say goodbye to the ones we love. I think back to the words of my dead brother: words which remind me that life, it seems, is not without a sense of irony, albeit bitter and cruel. Upon turning 30 years old (Steve and I were the same age, separated by only four months), Steve lamented getting older because, the older one gets, the longer the list of people to whom we must say goodbye gets. Steve had lost a friend of his: a fellow wrestling buddy with whom he had developed something of a bond. Cancer claimed Steve a couple years later. Now Steve's sentiments are my own.
"Where, O death, is your sting?" Thoughts of an afterlife – a happy afterlife in particular – is exceptionally attractive. So satisfying is the belief that the ultimate unavoidable end to us all is merely a segue to something greater, an ineffable existence in which we are not only survivors, but victors enjoying the eternal spoils of triumph, not merely cheating death, but conquering it, not merely resisting the poison, but defanging the snake. Such belief becomes even more gratifying during times of loss. I lost my dad in 2006, my brother in 2008, and my grandfather in 2010. How I long for Death to be robbed of its sting. How I desire that the circle be unbroken.
I don’t mind getting older. It’s a part of life, and to be quite honest I find the process fascinating. At 37 years old I’ve developed some silver in my hair. I know, we live in a society that despises aging and the old (that is, if you believe the media and pop culture, which tell me that I need to cover up that grey hair so I can be successful in life), but as I head toward 40 I am actually grateful that I’m no longer in my 20s. I’m finally beginning to realize just how little I knew back then. I have lived just enough life that I have begun to appreciate the benefits of having real life experience. I didn’t have the understanding I have now when I was 18, or 21, or 25, or even 30. When I was 29, all I could think about was how I would turn 30 on my next birthday. When I turned 30, I realized that it wasn’t the end of the world. In fact, it wasn’t even unpleasant. Surprisingly, I didn’t feel any different. Sounds dumb, but I genuinely worried about such things. I won’t be nearly so stressed on my 40th birthday because I had that life experience when I turned 30. I understand now what I didn’t understand then. I wonder what I will know when I’m 40 that I didn’t understand or appreciate or consider when I was 32, or 35, or even right now at 37.
Maybe those people who despise aging – and consequently the elderly – do so because people despise death. Most people ignore the fact that one day they will die, and – if I may offer a conjecture – perhaps that willful ignorance fosters the animosity toward aging and the old. Think about it: everyone is getting older. Everyone ages. Everyone will either die young or grow old. It’s unavoidable. Certainly, people use makeup and skin creams and plastic surgery and convertible sports cars and sexual partners half their age to help them ignore the fact that they are getting older, and that’s actually rather telling. We try our best to ignore our mortality. We try to separate ourselves from it. Some go so far as to develop hatred toward getting old, and subsequently toward those who have reached old age before us. When I see a younger person insult or belittle or make fun of an older person for no other reason than because that person is older, I can’t help but think that this younger person is insulting herself. I want to get right in that person's face and scream: "Look at that older person. That’s the Ghost of Christmas Future you’re looking at. That’s you, if you’re lucky to live that long."
Considering what I’ve been through in my life, and considering not only the terrible hand life has dealt me but also the many ridiculously bad decisions I’ve made in my life, I do consider myself lucky. I am fortunate to be alive, to have survived through so much without accepting defeat or giving up or putting a gun to my head. This is not an attempt at hyperbole. There was a time in my life in which I considered suicide a viable option for me. I wasn’t well. I was in a really bad place, and felt trapped. I didn’t understand how sick I was back then. Again, I am grateful for the life experience I have which allows me to see this. Depression is a real illness, and if it isn’t treated like a real illness, it will hurt you, and possibly even kill you like a real illness, because it is a real illness. I have lived through it. I confronted it on more than one occasion, and survived the encounter. I look at it now as one looks back at a thunderstorm one found himself in the middle of merely moments before.
I’m alive. I’m continuing to get older. I consider that a good thing. Yes, I’ve lost loved ones. Yes, the circle is broken. Yes, I’ve become a little sadder, a little more sober, a little more subdued with the passing of time. I’ve learned that, while wisdom and joy aren’t mutually exclusive, they rarely hold hands and get along well together. But there is a happiness to be found in life, and those of us who have even a small taste of it should celebrate, because not everyone is privy to such happiness. Ironically, we should grieve for exactly the same reason. Not ironically, both our happiness and our sadness should prompt us to live with compassion.
Through all this, I understand why religious belief persists. What do those of us who embrace cold, hard logic and reason have to offer that can compare? We have been raised on stories of everlasting life, conditioned to cling to the hope that we will be united with loved ones when we pass beyond the veil of death, and moreover be made perfect and complete after our mortal flesh reverts to dust. Pascal's Wager may be the quintessential false dilemma, but it succeeds most auspiciously as a reveille which kindles dread and even loathing of the "other option," be it either damnation or oblivion. Indeed, we are so eager to hedge our eternal bets that we convince ourselves that god can be fooled by our pretending to believe in order to receive that golden ticket.
... there is a happiness to be found in life, and those of us who have even a small taste of it should celebrate, because not everyone is privy to such happiness. Ironically, we should grieve for exactly the same reason. |
I don't know what happens after we die. I have no reason to believe any part of our consciousness continues on after the brain dies, and so I leave it at that. If I die and find some part of me still conscious on some celestial or ethereal plane, so be it. If not, then I won't care, because there won't be an "I" to do the caring. One has to exist in order to care about existing. If I no longer exist, then I will have no needs, no cares, no worries, no struggles, no pain, no problems, no loss and no regrets. That's as much Nirvāna as anyone could ever ask for.
As I have grown older, I have grown to appreciate the life I have now, the life I know I have, without requiring it to last forever in order for me to consider it valuable. I am also just now old enough to understand existentially just how short life is. When I was 21 I thought I had forever to achieve my goals, and forever to actually figure out what my life's goals were supposed to be. Now I understand and appreciate just how quickly the sand passes through the hourglass. If we survive through all eternity, then we have an unlimited quantity of life, or being, or, to borrow a term most notably utilized by Martin Heidegger, Dasein. Unlimited. "Everlasting life," as the Bible says. Think about that for a moment. The ride never ends. There's always enough time. Procrastination becomes an obsolete word in the face of forever. We've been taught to cherish the infinite, but perhaps the finitude of this life is what makes it all the more precious. Each breath I draw is valuable to me precisely because I do not have an unlimited supply.
— Dead-Logic
... presented by Carl Sagan. Also, this has to be one of the longest sentences ever written in English:
“Typical offerings of pseudoscience and superstition - this is merely a representative, not a comprehensive list - are astrology; the Bermuda Triangle; “Big Foot” and the Loch Ness monster; ghosts; the “evil eye”; multicolored halolike “auras” said to surround the heads of everyone (with colors personalized); extrasensory perception (ESP), such as telepathy, precognition, telekinesis, and “remote viewing” of distant places; the belief that 13 is an “unlucky” number (because of which many no-nonsense office buildings and hotels in America pass directly from the 12th to the 14th floors - why take the chance?); bleeding statues; the conviction that carrying the severed foot of a rabbit around with you brings good luck; divining rods, dowsing, and water witching; “facilitated communication” in autism; the belief that razor blades stay sharper when kept inside small cardboard pyramids, and other tenets of “pyramidology”; phone calls (none of them collect) from the dead; prophecies of Nostradamus; the alleged discovery that untrained flatworms can learn a task by eating the ground-up remains of other, better educated flatworms; the notion that more crimes are committed when the Moon is full; palmistry; numerology; polygraphy; comets, tea leaves, and “monstrous” births as harbingers of future events (plus the divinations fashionable in earlier epochs, accomplished by viewing entrails, smoke, the shapes of flames, shadows, and excrement; listening to gurgling stomachs; and even, for a brief period, examining tables of logarithms); “photography” of past events, such as the crucifixion of Jesus; a Russian elephant that speaks fluently; “sensitives” who, when carelessly blindfolded, read books with their fingertips; Edgar Cayce (who predicted that in the 1960s the “lost” continent of Atlantis would “rise”) and other “prophets,” sleeping and awake; diet quackery; out-of-body (e.g., near-death) experiences interpreted as real events in the external world; faith-healer fraud; Ouija boards; the emotional lives of geraniums, uncovered by intrepid use of a “lie detector”; water remembering what molecules used to be dissolved in it; telling character from facial features or bumps on the head; the “hundredth monkey” confusion and other claims that whatever a small fraction of us wants to be true really is true; human beings spontaneously bursting into flame and being burned to a crisp; 3-cycle biorhythms; perpetual motion machines, promising unlimited supplies of energy (but all of which, for one reason or another, are withheld from close examination by skeptics); the systematically inept predictions of Jeane Dixon (who “predicted” a 1953 Soviet invasion of Iran and in 1965 that the USSR would beat the U.S. to put the first human on the Moon) and other professional “psychics”; the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ prediction that the world would end in 1917, and many similar prophecies; dianetics and Scientology; Carlos Castaneda and “sorcery”; claims of finding the remains of Noah’s Ark; the “Amityville Horror” and other hauntings; and accounts of a small brontosaurus crashing through the rain forests of the Congo Republic in our time.”
— Carl Sagan, The Demon-Haunted World
[h/t: Claudia]
Planet Atheism buttons
FAQ (includes joining info)
RSS feed
Email subscription
