Farewell

Well, it had to end some time. I'm shutting down this blog permanently. From here on, there will be no new posts on Confessions of a Catholic Atheist.

But all hope is not lost, dear readers! I've created a new blog, one that seeks to do even more than this one ever did. My new venture is public. No more pseudonyms for me. Although I won't be putting the link here, I suppose the enterprising reader may be able to figure it out anyway.

Here, I've been Dale. This blog was my outlet when I first became an atheist. Now that I've been living the godless life for over two years, I've become much more stable and comfortable. Thus, I've little need for a direct outlet to share my feelings of isolation. I've made atheist friends. Things are better.

Thus I bid you all a fond farewell. It's been fun, but the time has come for it to draw to a close. Thank you for being a part of this project. I hope you'll join me on my next venture. Until then, be well.

-Dale

Oh joy, oh Rapture!

It seems almost inappropriate for an (occasional) atheist blogger not to write about the recent buzz surrounding the May 21^st Rapture. After all, it’s not every day that the world is allegedly supposed to end. For must people, anyway.

As you’ve likely noticed, it’s not May 21^st anymore, and the Rapture didn’t occur. Whoops. Big mistake on the part of Harold Camping and any others who helped him in crafting his apocalyptic prediction. Not that he or most of his devoted followers see it that way, of course. The Internet is humming with pieces about Camping and the Rapture: why he was wrong, what his followers are doing now, and, most prominently, slightly tongue-in-cheek posts and article starting with some variation on “Anyone still out there?”

I won’t be doing any of that. I’ve only a small bit to say on the topic, and then I’ll disappear into the nether once again.

One of the most fascinating parts of all of this for me is the media frenzy. People predict the end of the world all the time, but rarely does the mainstream news take the story and run with it. Perhaps this is the child of 24-hour newsfeeds and a viral-hungry populace looking for the next YouTube hit. Perhaps Harold Camping has enough of a flock built up that he warrants the spotlight. Which brings me to my next point: said spotlight was busy shining on the Rapture this past weekend, instead of other issues it might be focusing on: tornadoes in the Midwest, the conflict in Libya, volcanoes in Iceland, or even the murder trial of Casey Anthony or the continuing scandal surrounding Dominique Strauss-Kahn.

These are important things. These are things that are actually happening, to actual people. It’s a bit odd, really, that an event so few people believed would occur gained so much attention for the few weeks it did. It’s yet another case of non-news becoming news (celebrity gossip as news, “person-on-the-street” opinions as news, Donald Trump, etc.), and I find the whole thing horrifyingly intriguing. Why do people care so much?

Is it because secretly some of them hope it might happen? Is it because secretly some of them believe it will, despite knowing better? Or is it just a fun story, a vulnerable target for ridicule, like a comedic fountain into which anyone can toss a quip or one-liner?

Most importantly of all, why don’t more people ask the obvious question: is there a negative aspect to all this Rapture-rousing?

I say yes. First, the obvious: dozens of people drained their savings accounts, liquidated their assets, and left their families or friends behind in preparation for the event. Their lives, while perhaps not entirely ruined, are certainly changed forever. Imagine looking back on your life and realizing you gave up everything on the word of one very old man with a radio transmitter and a knack for speechmaking. Even if these poor victims get themselves back on their feet, they’ll always look back on that event and wince. They’ll know how far they went, and how close they came to the edge.

I’m speaking of the ones who leave the flock, of course. But what of the ones who stay? That’s the second danger. The subtler one. It’s not just these believers I’m thinking of: it’s the fact that we’ve validated their belief by speaking of it as a perfectly legitimate, reasonable course of action (or at least as one that few openly condemn as foolish). By giving Harold Camping’s Rapture a place in our news, we’ve legitimized it as a real concern. We spent hours talking about it, blogging it, Facebooking it, Tweeting it, and cracking jokes at its expense.

Why are we wasting our time with this? (he asks, and his voice echoes out to the furthest reaches of lolcats and failblog). Why are we handing a microphone to some kook who twisted his own delusional brain into a pretzel in order to concoct a rationalization for an almost certainly impossible event, and then received millions from those he managed to convince of his prediction’s truth? He does not deserve the megaphone, and the fact that he got it for a time shows the common denominator of American culture: we love spectacle. We love watching people make huge commotions as they spiral deeper and deeper into complete disaster.

This Rapture business is no different. It is, in effect, the religious equivalent of Charlie Sheen. But unlike the Vatican Assassin Warlock, Harold Camping’s Rapture isn’t funny, or even particularly clever. It’s just sad. Sad that people ruined their lives over it, sad that many will continue going along with the latest prediction (October 21), and sad that we lifted that charlatan on our media shoulders for a ride around the newsroom.

God-Given Purpose

“I live to serve God.”

“The Lord gives my life meaning and direction.”

“I am His hands and feet on Earth.”

“The point of life? To know, love, and serve God.”

“I can’t imagine getting up in the morning without knowing I was made for a specific purpose.”

These sentiments took me no time or research to come up with because, frankly, I’ve heard them dozens of times. I may have uttered something like them at some point during my belief. In fact, I almost certainly did. When I was younger, I used to hold a firm belief that I existed for no other purpose than to serve my fellow humans. I was a tool in the hands of my Maker. There was nothing else I wanted or, as I thought at the time, deserved to do with my life. This viewpoint lasted up until the middle of college, when I finally began to think that perhaps I was getting stepped on by a few too many of my classmates and “friends”. That, however, is a story for another time.

The above outlook on life—and the problem of God-given purpose—is the topic of today’s post. What does that mean? Why would anyone want to hold that belief, and what effects does it have on their lives and the lives of those around them? Purpose is a huge topic, so I won’t get into more than the slimmest portion of its surface, but nonetheless: let’s explore.

Everyone wants their life to have meaning. Everyone wants their life to have a purpose. Without purpose, what is the use of living? Without direction, what does one work toward? Even the most hedonistic of lifestyles conforms to this rule, for the purpose of the hedonist’s life is to experience as much pleasure as possible. This is why they exist. Asking anyone on the street what the purpose of their life is will yield responses as varied as the winds. Overall, however, one thing is for certain: religion heavily influences the sense of purpose in the lives of Christians.

So let’s think about that a little bit. For many Christians, their life has only one purpose: whatever God tells them it is. To be more cynical, their purpose is whatever they think God is telling them to do, or more often, whatever someone whom they trust tells them to do from a position of authority. This view provides two very important things: a sense of direction, and comfort. But it’s intellectually unsatisfying, in my opinion.

There’s a lot of talk among Christians about giving themselves over to God for His use. The reasoning is thus: if God made me, He must have had a reason. My job, then, is to figure out what that reason is, and fulfill the purpose I was made to fulfill. For after all, I must have a purpose, or else God wouldn’t have made me. This is the question a Christian feels compelled to ask, and it’s a (somewhat) logical extension from the basic concept of creation: A tool in your kitchen drawer may look cool, but if it has no purpose, why did you buy it? Similarly, a person may be beautiful, talented, and charismatic, but if they have no purpose, why did God make them?

To summarize and/or get myself off this wandering track: Christians find purpose and meaning in their lives by doing what they think God wants them to do. They surrender their wills to their Lord, and act as servants in His service. Look no further than scripture for evidence of this view (Matthew 20:28 “In the same way, the Son of Man did not come to be served. He came to serve others and to give his life as a ransom for many people”). Christians relinquish control of their lives. They discard the mantle of autonomy and self-direction in favor of a yoke of obedience. If God wills it, so it shall be. The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. I am at your service, my King.

But as an atheist, I have to ask the big question: why would you do that?

We subject ourselves to the wills of others all the time. When a friend asks me for a favor and I comply, I’ve subjected myself to her desire over my own. My actions are for her purposes. This is not a problem, nor is it abnormal. Where I find things strange, however, is when the lens zooms out to focus on the bigger picture.

If the purpose and meaning of your entire life is granted by the whims of an invisible God, and the only real way He communicates is through feelings you get when praying and a book written thousands of years ago… aren’t you reaching a bit? Isn’t that just trying to find meaning where none exists? Moreover, doesn’t that make your life seem… less valuable? Less important? Doesn’t that diminish you as a person with thoughts, feelings, ideas, and dreams? I find it all somewhat saddening, now. What has this person given up by choosing to follow the whims of a petty, jealous tyrant God? What could he become, were he to loose himself from those reins and run free?

I’ll try to put this succinctly, because I think I’ve drifted: Christians find purpose for their lives by letting God tell them what to do. I think that’s unfortunate. When I first became an atheist, I struggled with the idea that my life had no purpose, other than the purposes I set forth for myself. Once I accepted this truth, however, I discovered a remarkable sense of liberation. No longer was I forced to live my life for someone else’s reasons. I could do what I wanted to do, and try to arrange things in a way that made sense to me.

I was taught that “giving myself over to God” was beautiful. Now, I see it as a cop-out. Christians, you don’t need God to tell you to be good; you can just be good! You don’t need God to tell you where to go or when to go there; you can just go!

Maybe next time I’m in a snarky mood and someone tells me “I have a God-given purpose for my life”, I’ll retort with, “What, you couldn't up with something on your own?”

The Simple Life

It’s been almost two years since I decided that believing in God was, like, totally for squares, daddy-o, and I wasn’t going to do it anymore. My life has changed a lot since then. One thing I can say for sure is this: I like it. I like being atheist. There are many reasons, and today I’ll briefly explore one of them: it’s simpler.

The universe is a complex place. Understanding its finer points is a task far beyond my capabilities. But that’s okay! I know that there are many wondrous things out there that I will never comprehend, and I’m not the least bit upset about it. No one is making me try to fathom how the universe came into existence, or how time can get all distorted by gravity and such, or how consciousness works. There are answers to these questions out there, and I have some idea as to what they are, but their nuances are beyond my current knowledge, and perhaps the knowledge of anyone. Nonetheless, there is a key difference between life before and after my deconversion: I don’t feel any pressure to try to figure these things out.

Life as an atheist in the big city is pretty easy. This is especially true given the fact that I live in a very liberal city—Seattle. My recent relocation to said township has caused a lot of unrest in my life, but I’m grateful for the fact that I don’t need to worry about going to church or anything like that. I work hard enough as it is during the week; I don’t need to waste even more of my free time on the weekend participating in some cult-like mumbo-jumbo. No thank you, I’ll pass on that.

Back to my point: being an atheist is just less mentally taxing than being a believer. Even as I write that I can hear the rebuttal of the theist: “Ah! So you admit that you’re just pretending God doesn’t exist so you don’t have to follow His rules! Checkmate, atheist!” Okay, okay, I’ll address you in a minute. Life is just better if you can live it without worrying about breaking some kind of obscure tenet set down by ignorant men thousands of years ago. I don’t need to wrap my head around why God would allow terrible evil, or how God doesn’t need a creator but the universe does, or why people who claim to believe in justice and goodness can perpetrate horrific crimes against others. All of that stuff is still there, but as a godless person, I can safely live my life without trying to answer those unanswerable questions.

I feel like I’ve drifted around my point here, so I’ll just end with this: I’m not trying to say that we shouldn’t ask big questions or examine our lives. On the contrary, I firmly believe that we should look into our beliefs with care. What I’m getting at here is the idea that as a believer I was called upon to hold a number of contradictory and obtuse beliefs. I was never very good at compartmentalizing those things away; they always gnawed at me. As an atheist, I take time out for science and philosophy. But the time is my own. And if I’d rather just spend an evening playing video games, I don’t run any risk whatsoever of irritating a petty deity.

Argh, this post is confusing and random. Still, more posts more often! That’s my new motto!

On the subject of post frequency

I recently realized that writing blog posts is a) time-consuming and b) stressful. Why is this the case? The answer is plain: it’s time-consuming because I tend to write long posts, and it’s stressful because I’m insecure about the quality/interestingness of each post I create. Naturally, I want to write things that people enjoy reading, and will pass along to their friends. There’s tremendous pressure on bloggers to be snappy, witty, and delightfully entertaining at all times. And while I’m certainly capable of creating texts of that nature, it takes a while. I simply don’t have the time to devote to creating posts like that on a regular basis, given the fact that I have a life and a job.

So, the solution? Shorter posts with greater frequency. Get some meat on these bones. Get that post counter up into the triple digits (eventually). Writing posts about things that I’m pondering, considering, raging about, or otherwise interested in is a good way to get myself in the habit of writing. In time, I’ll be able to create longer, more detailed posts with greater speed and skill. I’ll practice, in other words.

I make no promises, but it’s my intention to write more often. So keep your eyes here, because if things go well, you’ll be seeing new posts soon.

Ministry Secrets

When I was a retreat planner in college, I found myself very frustrated by some of the things I saw within the school's Catholic ministry. I wrote a brief but impactful essay to a friend who was out of town, and today I discovered it again. This was penned on November 9, 2007.

Seriously [friend], I wish you were here. I really miss you. Being a good little Catholic boy is really starting to get to me. I’m feeling something distinctly non-Catholic coming on, and you are one of my primary sources for such behavior. I miss having you to keep me leveled-out and prevent me from falling too far into a system of rules and doctrines that I don’t really buy into. There’s been a lot going on in my head lately. I realized that while I may be wrong in what I believe, at least I’m not a hypocrite. At least I stick by my guns! Not like some of these guys I live with… all piety and humility out in the world of the Ministry, but get them alone and things stop adding up.

Everything is such a fucking performance with the Ministry! We all pretend that we don’t have these subversive, “heretical” thoughts, and we all keep quiet about the parts of our lives that don’t line up with the Church, but I know that everyone has skeletons in their closets. I’ve seen and heard it. We whisper to each other in confidence, behind closed doors. We keep each other’s secrets. Like the talented actors we are, we put on our modest costumes and play the parts of the innocent church mice. But just as with any theater production, the clothes and costume come off backstage, after the show. It’s all smoke and mirrors with these people! We spout lies scripted by the religion we all claim to follow without exception, and everyone plays his or her part wit the benefit of years of practice. I’m sick of it. I refuse to take part in this façade. Why can’t we all just stop bullshitting and act like the people we know we truly are? You’d be so proud if you could see all the quiet rebellions I’ve incited within the Ministry. I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. And even if I’m wrong, at least I’m REAL! At least I know where I stand! At least I can run the race and say, “This is what I really believe!”

I envision a future for this Ministry where everyone is accepted as they are. Discourse is encouraged rather than silenced. The Church, our immortal, immaculate judge and jury, has been wrong before. There is room for a difference of opinion and understanding. Despite what the clergy profess, I feel that we can go about faith in more than one way. My views are not canon, but they’re grounded in an honest attempt to live in a way that’s true to who I am. I can’t change what I am and what my feelings tell me. Does anyone else feel the same? In the shadows of the Ministry hide others like me, other who understand this concept. Will we ever see the light? Or will the light see us?

Sometimes it’s hard to believe that people who profess such patience, empathy, and faithfulness can be so intolerant. They judge with their eyes and their superegos, knowing full well that their hearts cry out at the sight of a kindred spirit. Again, the theatrics get in the way of how the actors really feel. I think there must be more people in the Ministry who feel this way than I’m aware of. But we must all keep secrets.

The Ministry—and by extension, the Church herself—exerts control through guilt and isolation. We all have our crosses to bear, yes, but at some point the crosses stop adding up. Guilt is a self-imposed behavioral control, and therein lies its brilliance. We are forced to act the way we do because to do otherwise would be to admit that we did not—and furthermore, I think, cannot—live up to the lofty ideals of the Catholic faith. Thus, we feel guilt for our inevitable failings and isolation in our suffering, because to share the alleged wrongs we’ve done would be to invite the possibility of judgment, and furthermore, would be humiliating in the face of the others who are silent about their wrongs.

We all know that we all sin, but if no one says it, then no one is sure where anyone else stands. Each of us feels the lonely burden of being the rock upon which the Church is built; for although we all know in our hearts that we are not alone in our failings, we cannot rest without the verbal validation that other Catholics can provide. This validation is stunted and discouraged as form is social control, perpetuated by the Church herself. But I have started to break free! By identifying the system, I have already begun to exert control over it and claim exemption from it. I know there are others out there who feel as I feel. All I need is the time and courage to find them.

The Antitheist

Last night I engaged in a very interesting debate with my girlfriend, who for purposes of unnecessary confidentiality I’ll call Sophie. Sophie and I started off our discussion on the subject of whether or not atheists (or anyone, really) should push their views onto others. Sophie pointed out that believers oftentimes irritated me, and that I spoke very negatively of them when none were around. I had to agree with her. I told her that I was still struggling to find equilibrium between allowing others to believe whatever they want, regardless of how I feel about it, and actively trying to change their minds about beliefs they hold that I feel are mistaken.

Sophie went on to say that atheism was a belief in the way the world worked, and had to be held with just as much faith as any religious conviction. I found myself unable to recall what I’d read in this article or others on the topic at the time, so I didn’t hold my own very well on that, but we did continue to go back and forth on it. We tussled round and round on the issue, trying to clarify ourselves and make our points as clear as possible. Sophie continued to make the statement that atheism was a belief, to which I repeatedly replied that it wasn’t. I used a few classic analogies: If atheism is a belief, then not playing chess is a hobby; atheism is to belief what bald is to hair color; and so on. She changed her tune a bit to point out that she wasn’t talking about all atheism, just my atheism. Now we were on a different track. She switched from the word belief—which she correctly noted is a loaded term—to paradigm, and I felt much less like we were arguing when that happened. Atheism is a paradigm, just as religious belief is. We finally narrowed things down to a set of succinct points, which I’ll attempt to illuminate below.

Sophie’s ultimate idea was that I wasn’t just passively saying that I didn’t believe in God. Atheism is a big part of my life. It’s a part of my identity. And through my actions and my writings I continuously make it clear that I very fervently believe not only that I don’t have a reason to believe in God, but that I have reasons to believe there isn’t a God. I countered back, saying that I didn’t hold any such beliefs; that as many of my beliefs about the world as reasonably can be examined had been examined, and I was living a life in which I actively strove to learn the truth about the world. But it was a losing battle, and I knew it.

Because what I realized, ultimately, was that she was right.

She drew the following brilliant analogy: I have a map in my mind. This map dictates how I look at the world, how I understand and solve problems, and how I interpret what sort of actions I should take. It’s the roadmap for my life. When I was a Catholic, I had a huge “Catholic City” on my map, and all roads connected to and wove through that locale. When I began the process of deconverting and eventually adopted the mantle of “atheist” (which, as I’ve stated before, was a label I deliberately chose for myself), I changed a few of the roads on the outskirts and swapped out a street sign here or there, but in the end all I did was remove “Catholic City” from the map and replace it with “Atheist City”. She leveled this final accusation at me: despite my claims of neutrality on the issue, I put huge amounts of energy and effort into disproving religion where I can, rather than letting it exist until it interferes with my life. I am not a passive atheist. I am an active one.

And that’s true, I realized. Where I am intellectually is not the same as where I am emotionally. On an intellectual level, I am a “weak” atheist. I do not feel that I have any good reason to believe in God or other supernatural things, so I don’t. If evidence comes to light to the contrary, then I’ll consider it openly, and change my mind if the circumstances warrant. But emotionally, I’m a “strong” atheist. I feel strongly that God does not exist, that God cannot exist. I have reasons to hold this belief, but it is a belief, and there is some amount of—dare I say it?—faith involved in taking that stance. I want to line up these two aspects of myself, but for now, I remain unable to do so. It is as she said: my map still has “Atheist City” on it, and I pursue the spread of atheism in a similar manner to the way I pursued the spread of Catholicism.

All the fervor with which I lived my Catholic life was simply transferred to my atheist life. I recall that when I first decided I was an atheist, I desperately sought out companionship and community. I talked to all of my friends about their religious beliefs. I read hundreds of pages of atheist blogs. I started my own atheist blog, to give myself a voice with which to seek out others. As a Catholic I had a very strong support network. As an atheist, I have pretty much nothing. Nothing that compares, anyway. And while part of me doesn’t mind so much—no more obligations to do things that I don’t want to do every Sunday—part of me misses that sense of belonging to a bigger group. Perhaps my urge to evangelize my atheism is derived from a desire to obtain that sense of community again.

The reasons why my mental and emotional states do not line up are not fully understood, at least by me, but I do have a thought or two. One is that I simply don't know any other way to be. Given the fact that I developed most of my coping mechanisms, mental processing techniques, and other such intellectual devices within the confines of dogma, it’s not surprising that I would struggle to find other ways to analyze problems and events. Another possibility is that I’m acting in this manner as a response to my past life as a Catholic. I was so deeply embroiled in the Catholic world… and now I’m out. I suspect the strength of my aversion and distaste for spirituality in general and Catholicism in particular is an attempt to put as much distance between my past self and my present self as possible. Much like the college-bound rebellious teen with strict parents, I want to be everything that the forces that once controlled me aren’t. I want to be the anti-Catholic. The anti-religious. The anti-believer.

The antitheist, if you will.

But what’s so wrong with that? Tolerance is still important to me. I would never want someone to think that I will not tolerate them simply because of what they believe. Yet my actions do not correspond to what I just said, at times. I occasionally make fun of or mock believers, as if I’m better than them. This is wrong, and I need to stop doing it. Those instances are few and far between; for the most part I am very courteous to believers when I talk or debate with them. I suppose in the end it comes back to the point at which the whole debate with Sophie began: I am still trying to find a balance between letting others have their beliefs and trying to dissuade them from holding what I’ve concluded are incorrect understandings of the world. I made a similar counterpoint to Sophie about politics—she’s very active politically—to the following tune: why do you try to convince the other side that they’re wrong? Shouldn’t you just let them believe what they believe? They have votes, she countered. Ah, I replied, but so do believers, and believers use their beliefs to determine how their votes will be cast. I feel that the differences between these two things are minimal; political beliefs can and often are held with as much zealotry as any religious creed.

The bottom line here (for I do so love bottom lines): I am a much more active atheist than I realized. Sophie showed me that. I’ve made atheism a part of who I am, a part of my identity, a part of how I see myself. I am Dale. I am an atheist. Where I still need to reflect and grow in understanding is in the realm of expressing that atheism to others, and what role it plays in my life. More contemplation is necessary on this. Stay tuned.

ADDENDUM: I asked my dear Sophie to read over this piece for me and give me her feedback. Despite my best efforts to recreate our argument in full, I unfortunately misrepresented what she said on a few points, and I wanted to be sure that I did not put words in her mouth. Here is what she told me, in her own words.

Quote: "Sophie went on to say that atheism was a belief in the way the world worked, and had to be held with just as much faith as any religious conviction."

That's not what I said or meant to say. I recognized a large difference in degree. Maybe I didn't communicate that thoroughly.

Quote: "I used a few classic analogies: If atheism is a belief, then not playing chess is a hobby; atheism is to belief what bald is to hair color; and so on. She changed her tune a bit to point out that she wasn’t talking about all atheism, just my atheism."

My response to this was that you weren't just not engaging in religion, you were actively engaging in anti-religion. And I wasn't talking just specifically about your atheism, but about your flavor of atheism. And I didn't change my tune. I clarified.

Skeptical Thoughts

Let’s talk about skepticism. I just read a very interesting and informative blog post by the lovely Greta Christina (I assume she’s lovely; I don’t know what she looks like) on the subject, and it has inspired me to pen some thoughts of my own on the matter. Off we go!

I’m a skeptic about a lot of things. I didn’t used to be, though. I’ve always been pretty gullible (up until my last few years of college, when I finally started examining things for myself instead of buying into whatever authority told me). I’m probably still too trusting; I tend to believe anything my friends tell me without question, and it’s only after I walk away from the situation that I can do a more thorough analysis of what was said. Perhaps that’s the kicker here… I’ll come back to that. Anyway, doubting what strangers tell me or what the media touts as irrefutable truth or whathaveyou is a very important to me as an atheist. Why? Because that’s kind of the basis of everything I don’t believe.

I came to atheism because I developed a skeptical eye. For years I was a devout Catholic, taking as truth anything a priest, youth minister, or slightly more knowledgeable student told me. There wasn’t any reason to question things. But all of that changed when I started my studies in the field of philosophy. And as I began to learn more about skepticism, and the important role it plays in every area of critical thought, I found it harder and harder to ignore the growing philosophical problems with my own belief system. As Greta Christina notes, “My skepticism is what helped me see my denial in the first place.” I faced a similar revelation; learning how to think critically and privilege evidence over feeling is what ultimately allowed me to realize how deluded I was and stop believing everything people told me. Just like Neo in my (for now) favorite film The Matrix, I suddenly awoke from the simulation. I grew skeptical of not only the beliefs I’d been fed for years, but also the very fabric of reality itself. I was, for a brief time, a real-world skeptic. Is this moment, this now, really real? Is it really happening? Or are we all just hooked into machines, being tortured by Cartesian demons in Platonic caves? An unanswerable question. Regardless of the solution, it doesn’t do much for us to fixate on that conundrum; we have lives to live, and whether the world is real or not doesn’t change the fact that we experience real pleasure and real pain.

Apologies, I seem to have digressed.

Skepticism is important because it’s healthy, mentally. Delusion isn’t good for our minds. It’s like junk food. Skeptical, critical thought is to the brain what a regimen of healthy, natural foods is to the body, in my opinion. Remaining skeptical about the claims of others allows us to constantly utilize that all-important function of our minds, the function that differentiates us from the other creatures of this world: advanced rational thought.

But it isn’t always easy. Emotion can play a big role in the proceedings. Remember earlier, when I mentioned believing what my friends tell me without hesitation? I think this important enough to warrant deeper examination. There are two reasons why we believe things without evidence: because it’s easy, or because we want to. Oftentimes these reasons overlap. I think that when a friend or trusted individual approaches us with an idea, we’re far more likely to believe it without question because we already hold one piece of evidence in favor of the proposition: the person’s credibility. And we count that as something that supports whatever they said, no matter what the idea was. Perhaps this is the essence of the matter… see, that would explain why people follow authority figures at all!

Let me try to put this succinctly: if I trust someone, and that person tells me something, I tend to believe the person because I count the person’s credibility as evidence in favor of whatever proposition they’ve laid out. But that’s faulty logic! The proposition should be held up on its own evidence, not on circumstantial evidence. For after all, if that same friend went to stranger and gave the same proposition, what evidence would the stranger have for believing it? None. And what counts as evidence for one person should count as evidence for everyone.

This is getting confusing. I don’t really know where I’m headed with all of this; I suppose I’ve just been rambling, and I guess there’s nothing wrong with that. I hope my musings haven’t been too uninteresting. I’ll leave you with this final rebuttal to my above point: skepticism is important, but overusing it can lead to trouble. During my (very) brief stint as a real-world skeptic, I suddenly found that things that normally brought me enjoyment no longer did so. It was difficult and uncomfortable. Ultimately I found that it wasn’t worth worrying about, and that I should move on to more immediate concerns. Similarly, being skeptical of everything anyone tells us, be they friend or foe, is no way to live life. It’s tantamount to being completely suspicious of everyone’s motives. And while reason is an important tool in our mental toolbox, so too is trust. Sometimes we have to make certain logical allowances in order to live happy, productive lives. I don’t see trusting friends and family is a particularly dangerous game… but a little skepticism once in a while doesn’t hurt either.

Mission 2010

I’m back. I survived. And I did a bit of writing while I was gone, although I wasn’t nearly as productive this year as I was last year. I think this is largely due to how novel atheism was for me a year ago. Now it’s pretty much business as usual; I’m not constantly thinking and wondering about it. I’ve decided to just put all my entries here in one place for your reading pleasure. No sense stretching this out into a bunch of tiny posts, right? Enjoy.

Sunday

I rode up here with the trip’s only other male chaperone. We talked about ourselves, our lives, that sort of thing. He really opened up to me; halfway through the trip he was telling me about a “problem” he was having with his daughter (also attending the trip). Apparently, she’d made friends with some non-denominational Evangelicals in her grade, and they were giving her anti-Catholic arguments and ideas. I advised him on how I’d proceed, telling him to give her the answers to her questions, but not to force her choice. It was really a deep conversation. I guess I’m easy to talk to, just as people often tell me. But I wonder… would he change his opinion of me if he knew I was an atheist?

I wrote a bit in my journal about today. I’ll write more here.

Can I do this? Three members of my family are here with me: my mom, my bro, and my youngest sis. They all know I’m an atheist. Does anyone else? I just wonder sometimes how people would react if they knew. Would they shun me? Stop trusting my opinions? Argue? I don’t know and I don’t care to find out.

I’m excited to see where this week takes me. I’ve got a lot of thinking to do.

Monday

It’s funny how easy it is for me to pass as Catholic. I guess that comes from all those years of real Catholicism I went through. I can talk theology and prayer with the best of them. It’s almost amusing.

I'm in such a different place now. Last year I was confused about everything. I was trying to understand how I could even exist in a world without God. Now I've done just that for over a year (well, technically for my entire life, but I wasn't aware of it until last year). I feel confident in my decision to be an atheist. I feel reassured that I'm right, or at least justified. After all, I haven't been struck by lightning or stricken with plague. I'm still here. Still whole. And I'm just as happy as I was when I believed... maybe even moreso. Without all that unnecessary guilt and such, I'm able to keep my life focused on progress. I find that although my past still haunts me, it no longer holds such powerful sway over my actions and thoughts. Being here on this trip after a year of open atheism serves only to reaffirm my decision. I am an atheist. There is no God. And that's fine with me.

Tuesday

Nothing

Wednesday

Nothing

Thursday

I went to Mass at the migrant camps tonight. Had a conversation with the youth minister in charge of our group afterward. She mentioned how the more develop our program here has gotten (in terms of the amount of food and clothing distributed), the smaller the attendance of Mass has been.

It seems obvious to me why this is the case, but of course I didn’t tell her: their needs are being met. They no longer need to rely on prayer out of desperation. Therefore, their religious conviction is dwindling. It follows the same trend as countries do; the higher the standard of living and education, the lower the religious attendance.

Friday

Ugh, we're at mass and it sucks. This stupid ceremony, all this pomp and circumstance, used to awe and amaze me. Now it fills me with disgust. Every minute of this tired dirge is brimming with pointless accolades and Catholic mind control.

The priest just made a crack about historians. Apparently BCE (before common era) is the current way to denote the time period before year zero. The priest said "so called historians and scientists" objected to the use of BC (before Christ) and AD (ad domine, of God). Well duh. Of course we do. Why do we base our entire historical catalog system off the birth of Jesus (which, by the way, didn't happen in the year zero)? Some people regard it as the most important moment in human history... but those people are severely misguided. Bleh.

This trip has been really easy. I spent a lot of time talking the Catholic talk and walking the Catholic walk, but I knew I'd have to do that when I signed up. I think my lack of faith is much stronger now, after a year away from the supernatural. I'm not assaulted by doubts or wonderings anymore. I don't have that subtle fear of being wrong that I did last year.

As I said to Jesus, safely stowed away in the tabernacle: "You hold no power over me. I'm not afraid. Does that make you sad? Angry? Scared?" I'm happy as an atheist. And this mission hasn't so much as loosened even one finger of my grip on reality.

Saturday

nothing

Once More Into The Breach

Well, here I go again. It was just about a year ago that I embarked upon a weeklong trip in the midst of diehard Catholics, and now I’m preparing to do it once more. I leave tomorrow. That trip last year was, for me, the final challenge as I deconverted: could I remain a steadfast atheist in the face of not only physical labor but also an overwhelming Catholic influence? Could I look into the eyes of the men and women who shaped me during my early religious formation, knowing that I no longer believed any of the things they’d worked so hard to teach me? Could I handle being the only person in a crowded room who didn’t buy into the mumbo-jumbo being touted at the altar?

Apparently the answer was yes.

So why go back? Didn’t I suffer enough the last time? Haven’t I had my fill of awkwardness and discomfort? Well, yes and no. I’m exaggerating how awful it was; no one really knew I was an atheist at that point, so most of the tension was in my head. But this year I’m out in the open. I’m not hiding anymore. And that means someone could (and perhaps will) call me on it.

I’m not scared. In fact, I kind of hope someone does call me on it. Preferably in private: I’ll be unable to make any headway whatsoever in a public setting with the deck stacked so heavily against me. But whether anyone does or not, I’m very aware that people know. I mean, I shouldn't care. I don’t care. But it’s still a bit difficult to go along with prayers and mass and such (or as I like to call it, “let’s play make-believe”) when other people know I’m faking it.

I fully expect to have a great time. I don’t think anything will go awry and I feel confident that I can outwit or stalemate anyone who tries to discuss their beliefs with me. I just wanted to leave this little primer here, and a teaser as well: I’ll be hand writing entries during the week, and I’ll backdate them into this blog when I return. So now you have something to look forward to!

See you in a week. Wish me luck!

Been A While

Been a while, hasn’t it? There I was, all rip-roarin’ to go. Had a few posts under my belt, was eagerly reading every blog I could and posting comments where I dared. Then suddenly: nothing. Poof. Vanished, like smoke in the wind. I turned invisible, yes, but like the God I once believed in I promised that I was still hiding somewhere in the background, waiting for the proper moment to emerge.

And the moment is now! Ha ha! Well, now-ish I guess. I can’t guarantee that any more posts will be forthcoming, but at least I’m making an effort. Not that I’ve yet developed any readership, really. A scattered few at best. Still, I press on, for after all, this blog is as much my outlet as it is for others to read.

I recall that the last time I wrote was in mid-December. It’s now almost June, which means it’s getting on toward six months. What’ve I been up to? Working. Getting my life together. In the post-college slump that I find myself in, I’ve needed to devote a lot of time to pressing matters of economic and romantic importance (which is to say, getting a job and finding a girl). Alas, I am but one man, and something had to go to make room for these other issues.

But I haven’t forgotten about atheism and what it means to me. The liberation I’ve felt in the year since I became an atheist still astounds me. No more time wasted with prayers when I could be doing something more productive. No more fear of punishment for believing the wrong thing or failing to adhere to some obscure, unknown tenet. No more guilt over trivial “sins”. Along these lines, I’ve admittedly had someone throw the “you’re pretending there isn’t a God so you can do evil things and not be punished” argument in my face. Uh, no. I don’t need your God’s rules and laws to guide me—which, I might add, are really just projections of your own ideas about what’s right and wrong—and, in fact, I never really did. Even when I was a believer, I still generally did what I felt was right, which in a few cases conflicted with what I’d been told by the Church.

I’ve had some discussions with believer friends over matters of faith and I must say I’ve held my own pretty well. Those hours spent poring over articles and blog posts were not wasted. After coming out as an atheist, I thought I’d be under assault from all sides, but surprisingly that wasn’t the case. Most people either didn’t notice, didn’t care, or were too afraid to bring it up. Regardless, only one friend actually rang me up and gave me the third degree about it. That was an interesting evening. I think we’ve reached a bit of a standoff: she thinks I had a bad experience in college and I’ll come back to the faith in five or ten years, and I think she’s so desperate to believe in some kind of higher power that she’ll redefine “God” to slip and squeeze out of any logical sleeper hold I might wrassle him into. And that’s fine. Whatever she wants to do.

This entry has been a bit… rambling. Apologies. Guess I’ve just got a lot on my mind, and no focus whatsoever. I won’t swear that another entry is on the horizon… but I think my non-faith will become a matter of greater interest to me in the near future, and perhaps that will motivate me to write more. We’ll see.

RE: Dominion

Well, it has been a while since I posted anything in here, hasn’t it? Sorry about that. I’ve been busy with the holidays. You know how it is. I hope to have some posts about Christmas to throw at you soon, but in the meantime, I want to give you something to hold you over. So how about this: A comment on one of my old entries, and my reply! The thrills never end. Let’s get to it!

Original Post

Robert Walker said...

You are correct, in a way. We do indeed have dominion over all the earth. And, we may at times want to control all of it. But what should separate us from "beastly protocol" is a central value system. Hence, the rest of the bible. I'm sure if man "ruled" his "dominion" as God stated within Genesis, we would be fine. But we have strayed from that "value system" via independant "higher thinking" most of which end in "isms" (Socialism, Atheism, Denialism, etc).. Once we started "managing" the earth, as God intended, out of our own "wisdom" instead of by HIS value system, things did indeed begin to "go to hell in a handbasket." So I do indeed agree with yo my friend..

December 1, 2009 6:52 AM

My reply:

@Robert Walker: Thanks for your comment. A few questions for you, if I may?

"But what should separate us from "beastly protocol" is a central value system. Hence, the rest of the bible."

Right off the bat, I want to know: Why the Bible over, say, the Koran? I know you'll probably tell me it's because the Bible is true and other books aren't, but I have no reason to agree with you unless you provide some evidence.

"I'm sure if man "ruled" his "dominion" as God stated within Genesis, we would be fine. But we have strayed from that "value system"..."

Excessive quotation marks aside, can you be a bit more specific about what God tells us in Genesis with regard to taking care of the Earth? As far as I am aware, the story goes that God made this awesome garden, threw Man in it, and told him to rule the animals. But the animals weren't wild, and Man didn't need to farm to keep himself alive, so ruling it was pretty easy. After the Fruit event (which I like to call the Biggest Cosmic Setup Ever), God kicked Man out without so much as a "how-to" pamphlet. I don't recall any rules in Genesis about how to handle floods, tornadoes, droughts, hurricanes, earthquakes, volcanoes, blizzards... or how to deal with animals that wanted to eat Man, rather than the other way around... or how to balance the desires of a species that was told to "be fruitful and multiply" with the desires of, oh, every other species on the planet, so that one doesn't snuff out the other. I guess what I'm asking is this: can you be a bit more specific about the "value system" you mentioned?

"Once we started "managing" the earth, as God intended, out of our own "wisdom" instead of by HIS value system, things did indeed begin to "go to hell in a handbasket.""

Again, what exactly do you have in mind when you say "HIS value system"? And moreover, unless you're an advocate for living in trees and eating nothing but berries (which I somehow doubt you are), I don't see how any value system could avoid stepping on the toes of other species. According to Genesis, God put Man here to be the ruler of everything, and "fill the earth and subdue it." How are we supposed to do that without bumping off species that would diminish our survival?

I think you missed my point in the last paragraph of my post. It reads: "Whatever the reason, too many people fail to see the difference between earning our place at the top of the food chain and deserving said position. We fought our way to the top. We were not put here."

We're just like every other species because we evolved just like every other species. Humans were lucky enough to be the first species to develop an intellect capable of the kind of thought we've come to take for granted. Along with that intellect came a weird feeling of entitlement: we feel like we were gifted our place at the top of the food chain, rather than realizing the truth; that is, the fact that our species struggled for millions of years to get to this point. If just a few things had gone awry, humanity as we know it wouldn't exist. Perhaps something else would instead? A reptilian race, or a canine or bovine one... who knows? The point here is this: there is simply no way to reconcile what the Bible says God wants us to do (multiply, dominion, subdue, all that) and how we actually feel about doing just that (I hope I'm not the only one who feels bad for wiping out other species). If, however, we face up to our evolutionary back-story, we’ll realize that this is just the way we are, and there isn’t anything wrong with it unless we deem it so. Species come and go. That’s life. It is, to put in simply and in one word, natural. And the sooner we get that through our heads, I think, the sooner we’ll be able to adopt a more reasonable, thoughtful, rational attitude about being the most powerful creatures on the planet.

Thanksgiving

Another Thanksgiving come and gone. I spent the day feasting with family and friends. The air was filled with delicious smells, laughter, and the warmth of hearts sharing their love. It was a really nice day, and I couldn’t have asked for better. I want to pause here a moment and talk about this holiday’s buzzword: gratitude.

Back when I was a believer, I made a habit of thanking God before every meal. I had a standard prayer that I’d rattle off under my breath, something along the lines of, “Dear Lord, thank you for bringing me here to enjoy this meal. Please bless my family and friends, especially those in most need of your help.” I felt that this covered the bases pretty well; get some thankfulness in there, and also pitch in a word for those close to me. It was nice. It felt like a good thing to be in the habit of doing.

But what did being grateful to God really mean to me? The feeling was rooted in my understanding of God’s role in my life, which I didn’t exactly hammer down with any great clarity at the time. It went something like this: God created me. He also created this food, and the reason He did that was so I’d have something to eat. He has been guiding me through my life, encouraging me to make certain choices, and those choices have led me here. And I’m happy here. So I should thank God for His assistance in reaching this place.

Thanking God was, for me, a lot like thanking one’s parents for dinner. They “made” you, they put the food in front of you, and they guided you through life thus far. It’s an easy comparison to make, really.

And all of this is probably pretty obvious or generic; I imagine this is how most believers understand their relationship with God.

I wonder now, looking back, why I didn’t ask more questions about this. Actually, no, I don’t wonder. I know why. I was taught not to ask questions. But if I had asked questions, I would’ve quickly found some problems.

First of all, there are the big questions that the situation calls for: how exactly does God “guide” me anywhere? How does he encourage me to make certain choices, while still allowing my will to be free (and more importantly, the wills of the people in my life who are asking me to make the choices in question)? If God has my life all mapped out in his head, do my “choices” even really matter? Could I have ended up anywhere other than where I was just then, sitting at the table with the plate in front of me?

If we put all that stuff aside and just run with it, a second worry comes up: why thank God? Not just for the food, but for anything? Let me explain with an analogy: say I release you into some kind of gigantic maze, like the ones scientists use on rodents, and observe you from above, to see how you navigate it. I’ve spent lots of time making sure this maze is deviously complicated; there are dead-ends and roadblocks everywhere. Now, I’ve also set little pieces of “cheese” along the way for you (whatever reward “cheese” is depends on the person, I suppose). And as you stagger through this test, wondering where you’re supposed to go and why the hell you’ve ended up in such horrendous situation anyway, you come upon these pieces of cheese. Would you be grateful to me, the test maker (by the way, I’ve also left a bundle of old notes about me, the scientist, written by previous maze-runners. I haven’t actually shown myself to you or anything crazy like that)? Would you express your thankfulness to me for the bountiful rewards I’ve seen fit to give you?

I wouldn’t. You can’t buy my love, God. You can’t just give me stuff and expect me to do whatever you ask. I thought that was what free will was all about? Being able to choose whether or not to love God? The problem here is this: if God is going to put all these material rewards in front of me and then wiggle his eyebrows knowingly and go, “Eh? Eh?”, then you can count me right out of that nonsense. Even the promise of an immaterial reward is just that, a promise. Until I see the pay dirt, I don’t have much of a reason to be swayed by such a reward.

I’ll try to sum this up: I don’t see much reason to thank God for his “gifts”, because they come with a hidden agenda. There is, to borrow the old adage, no such thing as a free lunch. If I cram in a mouthful of the delicious apple pie in front of me, I’m in essence saying, “Ok God, I’ll bite. I’ll accept your gifts, and with them the knowledge that you put them there so that I might believe in you.”

Don’t you see? God has a monopoly on the situation! Where else am I going to go? If I want to turn down his gifts and strike out on my own, I don’t have any other options.

The reason I exist is because God made me; therefore, I begin the game indebted to him. Again I go back to the maze analogy (apt, I think, because a lot of people view this life as a “test”): sure, while trapped in the maze, I might be enjoying these rewards the scientist left for me, but I’m stuck in the maze because of the scientist! I didn’t have any option but to be here! So to be grateful to him for trapping me in a labyrinth and then throwing down treats is a bit… silly. Maybe if I’d been given the option of not being in the maze, then I could see saying “thanks”. But I didn’t get to make that choice. So these “gifts” are permanently tainted by the fact that they’re only put there to placate me and coerce me to follow God’s will.

A kidnapper might be nice and give you candy, but he's still a kidnapper.

All right, enough about this. Thank goodness none of it is true: God didn’t give me my meals because there isn’t a God. Phew.

Thanksgiving is, now, an even better holiday for me. Why? Because instead of thanking some invisible man with a beard for the mountains of grub, I can give my gratitude to those who truly deserve it: my family and friends. I can thank them for being a part this brief, fleeting experience we call living. I can be happy that my brain has produced an epiphenomenon called “me”, and thus I’m able to think about how much I enjoy turkey and stuffing. I can just be glad to be alive now, at this very exciting juncture in human history, instead of a thousand years ago or five hundred years ago or any of the other really nasty time periods prior to the present.

Most of all, I can give thanks for the goodness in the hearts of my fellow human beings. That’s what I was most grateful for this Thanksgiving: the beauty and compassion of everyone around me.

Hope you had a wonderful Turkey Day. I certainly did.

Moral Relativism, or Why Everything Isn't OK

I discovered something interesting tonight, and it has me thinking more than usual. Which is saying a lot, since I spend quite a bit of time thinking. I learned—via a somewhat heated discussion over and after dinner—that my father is a moral relativist, or at least comes across as such (whether he’d stick by his guns under pressure is a question I’m not currently qualified to answer). Now, by this I mean the following: he believes that what is right and wrong is relative to the culture and society of the people who perform the action. Moreover, his explanation suggested that he saw right and wrong being contingent upon the beliefs of the actor. What’s right for me may not be right for you. Morality is subjective. There is no objective right or wrong. If I perform an action that I believe is morally right, then it is morally right.

Just to be sure I understood him, I asked him point blank: “So it’s 1785. Is slavery wrong?” He said it wasn’t wrong then, but when we look back with current understanding, we see it as a morally impermissible action. Or rather, some of us do. Because I’m sure there are still people out there in the world who advocate slavery. And according to my father’s theory, they’re right. According to his moral relativism, insofar as I understand it, for such advocates to enslave other people is not only morally permissible; it’s a good thing to do. A right thing to do.

In having this conversation with him (the rest of my family watched as our minds clashed), I realized that I couldn't exactly explain what I felt was wrong with the theory. Every point I made was rebutted in a way that, while logically consistent and rigorous, still felt somehow off to me. Moral relativism is a theory that doesn’t require any sort of deity’s intervention, and that’s something I can most certainly get behind. But on the whole I feel it to be untenable, for reasons that I find myself unable to adequately explain. Perhaps if I raise some of the objections I’ve been contemplating, I’ll discover more about why I feel that this theory isn’t worth grabbing hold of.

If I were to dive back into this debate with my dad (and I intend to, once I’ve formulated my thoughts a bit more), I would want him to answer some questions for me. They are as follows:

1) “Under your theory (your form of moral relativism), what’s right and wrong are determined by the actors themselves. So if I commit some action that I believe is right, are you justified in telling me that it’s wrong to commit that action?”

Under your theory, dad (and I’m sorry that I have to bring this into it, but it’s the best example I can think of), Hitler was a saint. Hitler did exactly what he believed was right. According to your system, what he did was right... for him. Oh sure, you don’t think it was right. You’d tell him he was doing something bad, something wrong, something that shouldn’t be done. But how can you justify that position? Certainly, the action is wrong for you to commit, because you believe it to be a wrong action. But Hitler doesn’t. So what right do you have to say anything about his action?

2) “If I am presented with a moral dilemma that I have not encountered before, how does your theory assist me in determining the correct course of action? In other words, when I’m faced with an ethical problem, what criteria do I use to determine the morally right decision?”

If there are no such criteria, then the moral theory provides no way for its proponents to determine right action, except the following axiom: “Do what you believe is right, and it will be the right thing to do.” What if I don’t know what I want to do? What if, in looking at a situation, I find both actions to be equally offensive, or desirable? How am I to make any kind of judgment call about what I should do in those circumstances?

3) “If moral action is determined by the actor, then how can we ever say, ‘He did the right thing,’ and have that statement actually be meaningful?”

My father talked at length about how people needed to have “constructs” in order to get through their lives, and I agreed with him there. His point was that everyone needs to have some kind of “belief system” about the world. I’m cool with that. I have a “belief system”, based on reason, empiricism, and evidence, but like anything it’s subject to my own biases (which I attempt to remove as much as possible). Anyway, I’m getting off track: the thrust of this question has to do with comparisons. If Smith commits an action that Smith believes is right, then he’s done the right thing (under your theory). If Jones commits the same action, but Jones believes it’s the wrong thing to do, then Jones has done something wrong. So the same action can, depending upon the actor, have different moral value? What this means is that, in essence, I cannot praise someone for doing the right thing or scold someone for doing the wrong thing, because what’s right and wrong are all based on what they think is right and wrong. So there are, in Catholic terms, no saints or sinners. Everyone does what they think is right, and that’s all there is to it. No one deserves a pat on the back or a slap across the knuckles.

4) “According to your theory, what’s right and wrong in a society are largely determined by the majority or a vocal minority. If this is the case, then isn’t this a glorified version of ‘might makes right’?”

This objection is based more on emotion than the others, but I feel it’s worth mentioning. The example I used in our discussion was gay marriage. According to this theory, if the majority of people in this country believe gay marriage is wrong, then it’s wrong. But moreover, if a minority of people believe it’s wrong, and they just happen to have the necessary power to change the laws and minds of those around them, then it’s still wrong. I guess what I’m getting at here is this: it doesn’t seem correct to me that the strongest group in a society gets to determine what is morally permissible or impermissible for that society. Moreover, it doesn't seem correct to say that actions committed by other cultures—the example I used was female circumcision, a horrific practice still performed in many African nations—are morally right because the majority of the culture believes that the action is right.

I think all in all, I have a problem with the following scenario: Say that, hypothetically, a man comes in to see my father at work. “Hello sir,” he says. “I have unfortunate news. It is my belief that people in your line of work are moral monsters who don’t deserve to live. Thus, I have a moral obligation to kill you.” The man pulls a gun and shoots my father dead. Questions: Would I be mad about this? Yes! Would I want to do something about it? Of course! Would I be correct in saying that the man did something wrong by killing my father in cold blood? No, I would not. After all, the man did what he thought was right, and thus, according to my father’s theory, he committed a morally permissible action. I can clamor for revenge or justice all I want, but in no way do I have any sort of moral justification for doing so.

That just seems wrong to me! Of course I would be morally justified in seeking justice or revenge against my father’s murderer. I don’t see how it could possibly be any other way. My father’s moral relativist stance leads, I feel, directly into chaos, for after all, if whatever I believe is the right thing to do—no matter how twisted, sadistic, or malicious my thoughts may be—is the right thing to do, then everything becomes morally permissible, and I would be morally justified in committing any action whatsoever. When all of morality is subjective, it really doesn’t even make sense to say that an action is “right” or “wrong”. I can just do as I please, and the only argument anyone can use against me is, “I don’t like that, so don’t do it.” Were someone to call me any name in some way related to morality—“evil” springs to mind—I could immediately counter with, “I’m not evil. This is the right thing to do.” And I would be completely justified in saying this.

Moral relativism of the kind my father seems to ascribe to is untenable because it, in essence, annihilates right and wrong, and instead replaces them with an “anything goes” system, under which anyone can be justified in doing anything they want. As much as I am against the idea of moral absolutism—the view that certain actions are always wrong, no matter what—I can’t help but feel that this view put forth by my old man is a bit too far in the opposite direction. Certainly I don’t want a system where every action has a moral value that cannot be altered no matter the circumstances, but at the same time I don’t want a system where no action has that status. Like most things in life, moderation appears to be the key to morality.

Humanist Symposium #45

Fellow humans:

Thank you for tuning your Feeds to tonight’s presentation. As mandated by law, we are required to remind you not to engage in full-mind activities while driving, operating machinery, or performing any other task that may require the majority of your mental capacity to perform correctly. Remember, nourishing your mind can be dangerous if done without regard for your surroundings. Feed Safely™.

The International Council of Historians is most pleased to present tonight’s edition of: Humanist Relics.

*cue exciting music and dramatic, colorful title screen*

Here on Humanist Relics, we open the ICH archives and showcase some of the greatest works ever created by human minds. It is our ambition to bring the history of Humanism to the world so that all humans may know and remember the struggles our forbearers went through to actualize a society built on truth, reason, and the pursuit of equality.

Tonight’s piece is one of the crown jewels in our collection of timeless Humanist writings. It is with great honor that we present to you the following archival data, entitled: The Humanist Symposium #45.

Taken from the “Internet”, and written in 2009 (just three years before… well, we all know what happened in 2012 from our history classes, don’t we?), this collection of writings is an outstanding microcosm of Humanist thought during that time period. We’ve broken down the original long piece into a few subgenres and taken the liberty of reformatting them to meet current data specifications, for easier user processing. (Please note: All written data has been translated from Old New English to Modern Word. For the data in its original Old New English format, please contact ICH.) If your Feed is not equipped with the necessary emulators to run this ancient program, please activate this link to download the appropriate drivers.

And now, without further ado, tonight’s datastream:

Topic One: On Being Humanist - Writings about the world from the viewpoint of an atheist/humanist, and what it means to live in a world guided by humanist principles. (A note to our viewers: These pieces were written prior to the adoption of Humanism as the global worldview! A fascinating look into life as part of a growing minority population.)

Title – Funerals and Christianity

Author – Amanda ; Original archive – Free to be Me

Notable quotation – “I’m accustomed to Southern conservative Christian funerals being a ‘salvation’ sermon instead of a standard eulogy, but I guess I’d never really paid attention to it before because I was so involved. Basically, the message boiled down to ‘I know he’s in heaven; if you want to see him again, get saved!’ There was also your standard variation of hell sucks, if you want to avoid it get saved! Where, in either of these two examples, is there a motive of becoming a Christian because you believe in the saving power of Jesus Christ?”

Title – The Purpose of Life

Author – PaulJ ; Original archive – Notes from an Evil Burnee

Notable quotation – “In the absence of a religious purpose for human life (for instance, "the glorification of God"), it might seem reasonable for perpetuation of the species to be offered as a substitute. But reproduction is simply what humans, and other species, do. If they didn't, they would become extinct. Reproduction is not, therefore, a purpose, but simply the result of evolution. Those that are best at reproduction (which includes being good at surviving to reproductive age) are the ones who pass on their genes to the most offspring.”

Title – Life's Value

Author – the chaplain ; Original archive – An Apostate's Chapel

Notable quotation – “One does not need to believe in divine sanction to treasure life. Rather, all one needs is an appreciation for the wonder of a cosmos that humankind is just beginning to understand. As far as we can tell so far, life forms play small roles on the stage of the cosmos. Organic beings may be relatively few in number, but we’re pretty amazing nonetheless. This shouldn’t surprise you. After all, it’s often the bit characters that steal the show.”

Title – In Honor of Terry Pratchett

Author – Ebonmuse ; Original archive – Daylight Atheism

Notable quotation – “If you're an atheist and a regular reader of sci-fi and fantasy, you probably know the name Terry Pratchett - and if you don't, you should. He's the award-winning and much-loved author of Discworld, a series of fantasy novels set in a flat, circular world that's carried through space on the back of a giant tortoise…Pratchett is also an atheist, and many of the Discworld books (including my personal favorite, Small Gods) show the virtues of atheism and humanism - no small feat in a riotous fantasy world where, as the author puts it, ‘the gods had a habit of going round to atheists' houses and smashing their windows’.”

Title – Coming Out Atheist: Is Losing Your Relationship Worth It?

Author – VJack ; Original archive – Atheist Revolution

Notable quotation – “It is fairly common for people in a relationship to be as attracted to the potential of someone rather than to the actual person. And yet, it has been my experience that such relationships are often doomed if they do not quickly progress beyond this point. If I am in love with what I want someone to be rather than what they really are, I'm resigning myself to being perpetually disappointed and unhappy. One could reasonably argue that this wouldn't be a relationship at all but merely a form of narcissism. It is difficult to imagine it working in the long run.”

Title – Marriage, or why I really really want same sex couples to be able to marry.

Author – Michelle Bell ; Original archive – The Gaytheists

Notable quotation – “My emotional tie up is more than wanting equal rights, and it’s more than fighting against religion having a bitchfit that they can’t make the government their happy fun-time bigotry playground. I guess I have a little bit of a confession to make – I want same-sex marriage because I’m selfish.”

Topic Two: Humanism in Action – Writings about the ways in which Humanism and Humanists are working to make the world a better place for all people. (A note to our viewers: As commonplace as Humanist principles now are in law and social life, there was once a time when Humanist organizations were viewed as fringe and looked down upon by the majority of society. These activists were well ahead of their time, and should rightly be regarded as heroes for their efforts despite great opposition.)

Title - The gay marriage: All animals are equal but some are (apparently) more equal than others

Author – Robert Nijssen ; Original archive - Gibburt

Notable quotation – “If you would want to defend that you have a certain right, but you would not want to extend that same right to your neigbor [sic], there is an easy strategy to follow: first find a distinguishing quality between you and your neighbor…an example could be that the neighbor wears glasses. Then you take that feature and argue that because of this feature he should not be allowed to have this right, for example people with glasses are not allowed to use the public bus system. And presto no more people with glasses on public buses (this last step of course will only work if you can convince enough other people of your idea).”

Title – World Food Day

Author – Michael Fridman ; Original archive – a Nadder!

Notable quotation – “But suppose we could teleport food. Surprisingly, this can cause more harm than good. The USA gives more food than any other country. But its policy (or law?) is that it must be US-made food brought on US Navy ships. This floods the local market with food, driving prices down and sending local farmers into even greater poverty. And ironically it’s local farmers who’re most likely to go hungry. Their crop becomes worthless so they can’t sell it to buy other produce they need. So even giving food is no silver bullet.”

Title – Repair Job

Author – Secular Guy ; Original archive – Towards a Rational America and an Enlightened Judaism

Notable quotation – “If nothing else, it's in our own self-interest to try to improve society and in turn benefit from these efforts. Moreover, through such responsible living perhaps people will mature ethically and will outgrow the need to look to an imaginary supreme being for guidance. Under these circumstances, ‘God’ will wither away, and civilization can then advance, liberated at last from the constraints of theism.”

Title – Brights co-founder on atheists and the 'non-religion religion ballgame' (video)

Author – Paul Fidalgo ; Original archive – Secularism Examiner

Notable quotation – “…but I also think that if the Brights approach adoption from the standpoint of ‘being an atheist is too stigmatizing,’ they will continue to have trouble, as most momentum that I've seen is on the side of pushing broad acceptance and pride in the a-word…They will have to sell themselves as an augmentation, a clarification, much as the term ‘humanist’ is, if they wish to woo more atheists to their particular cause.”

Title – Scientific Thinking to Guide Compassion

Author – Andrew Bernardin ; Original archive – the evolving mind

Notable quotation – “But I do realize that simply throwing money at a problem can miss the mark. What the practice of throwing money at a problem accomplishes is the comforting thought that you are doing something, and sometimes little else. I want to help, but not if in the end it’s not helping.”

Topic Three: Appreciating Humanism – Writings about gaining a deeper understanding of Humanist principles, tenets, and concepts. (A note to our viewers: It may seem strange to write articles about topics that are now commonly taught in schools and public forums, but at the time these pieces were written Humanist ideas were still in development. Historical archives such as this one are enthralling because they show the development of Humanism over time.)

Title – Why The New Humanism

Author – Greg Epstein ; Original archive – The New Humanism

Notable quotation – “It is also important to note that the New Humanism and the New Atheism absolutely share the same views on questions such as whether God exists (almost certainly not), or how best to understand the nature of the world around us (science and empiricism). And as to whether we ought to fight for such causes as the separation of Church and State, the teaching of evolution, and the promotion of atheism and Humanism as valid, patriotically American ways of life, our answers are also the same as those of the New Atheists -- you bet your life we ought to.”

Title – Science and the Worship of Truth

Author – Eric Michael Johnson ; Original archive – The Primate Diaries

Notable quotation – “While religious proponents believe that there is a One Truth that has been revealed through their sacred book, science operates under the assumption that human reason is finite and that a scientific theory is only valid until further evidence either refines or discards it for a better explanation. Science is never finished. It's a continuing work in progress and any accepted theory is merely ‘provisionally true’ for the time being.”

Title – A Few Words on the Dangers of Language

Author – E.M. Cadwaladr ; Original archive – e.m. cadwaladr

Notable quotation – “…Social identity is, as it were, familial identity writ large. It is an expression not of the need for a reliable source of knowledge, but rather it is the expression of the need for a reliable source of personal context and security. To be either a Christian, a communist, or even (to an admittedly lesser extent) a certified public accountant is to project what is essentially a family identity onto a group of individuals far too large and diverse to be a family. It is to expect a certain level of protection from inclusion in this group, even if, in some cases, this protection only amounts to a vague sense of social legitimacy.”

Title – Atheism, Openness, and Caring About Reality: Or, Why What We Don't Believe Matters

Author – Greta Christina ; Original archive – Greta Christina's Blog

Notable quotation – “There is an impossibly huge infinitude of things that we could imagine about the universe. Only the tiniest fraction of those things are actually true. If we're going to be truly open to the mind-altering magnificence and hilarious freakiness of the universe, if we're going to truly understand and accept and explore what is true about the universe to the best of our ability, we have to be willing to say ‘No’ to the overwhelming majority of things we can imagine about it. We have to be rigorous in sorting out reality from unreality... and relentless in our rejection of unreality.”

Title – Reverse-Engineering Religion, part four: A Humanist Creation Myth

Author – D ; Original archive – She Who Chatters

Notable quotation – “So see your vanity for what it is, embrace your vexation with all your spirit, and chase after the wind with a joyous heart. In the fullness of time, there shall be no reckoning, for everything that there is shall return to the nothing from whence it came. Fear nothing, and hold to the Law. All the World is open to you now, so take up understanding and love and pleasure, and be at peace with your mortality. This is the final mystery, for as death comes to us all, in death no one knows any thing, and so even your love and understanding and pleasure shall pass from you even as you yourself pass into the nothing.”

This concludes our program for tonight. Tune in for our next show on November 29^th, 2009, when we’ll be presenting The Humanist Symposium #46 (due to restrictions from our network hosts, this presentation will be broadcast on an alternative Feedquency entitled You Made Me Say It!) Thanks again for your interest in the diverse, fascinating, and inspiring history of Humanism!

Be well, and may prosperity and peace flourish in the lives of all of humankind.