Category: atheism

Why haven’t I ever heard of this man before? He dramatically demonstrates how an expectation can create a false signal from something that’s nothing but noise.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bG7EFhMw8w&hl=en_US&fs=1&rel=0]

This demonstrates why it’s so important to have tools, objective and rational, that can be used to separate out actual signals from the noise that surrounds us.

If you expect there to be an invisible sky man, then you will see an invisible sky man, in spite of the mountains of positive evidence against ISM’s existence.

Widely reported all over the internets this week is the survey that is part of the American Mosaic Survey that is reporting that atheists are the least-trusted people in America.

Hey, can I say something, here?

I could go on and on on this topic, actually. So, after pondering this article for almost a week, I think I can pare down my response a bit, to just directly rebut some of the statements in that article without getting all rant-y about religion and atheism as a whole.

Basically, it boils down to this: Christianity in its modern, Western form, is predicated on belief. Christians are told that they are to believe something without evidence and that they are part of a community that shares that belief. Forcing themselves to believe something without any evidence, or “just knowing” that some things are “true” even though those things can’t be verified in any fashion is not just fundamental, it becomes a point of pride.

Contrast this to other religions that put the focus on the here-and-now, religions that require their adherents to put into actual practice actions favored by that religion. Sunni Islam has its “Five Pillars of Faith”. Mr. Abrams, quoted in the article above, talks about Jewish acts being more important than belief.

But it’s the Christian idea that has taken root in America – a focus on a perfect, ideal world and a rejection of this imperfect world, and favoring irrational mental stimulation overtaking action.

Obviously, I’m simplifying here. There are many forms and flavors of Christianity, with different flavors of belief, just as there are many different groups of Jews, or Muslims, or Wiccans, or atheists, for that matter. My reader may argue that I’m constructing a straw man to knock down. I accept that it may seem that way, however, I’m only basing this argument on the article quoted above. “Belief” is used 13 times in the article, out of 605 total words. “Act” is used twice, and once as part of the word “actor”, describing one of the people quoted. “Reasonable” is used only once.

The study is about what people believe, and what people believe others believe, and how they feel about that. My argument is that basing issues of trust on belief rather than action is going to result in problems, and that atheists are best equipped to focus more on actions, and are therefore more trustworthy.

Now, people can be atheists for many reasons. In my own case, I am an atheist because the religious descriptions of God do not meet basic, verifiable, logical criteria. Without getting too deeply into it, take a look at the problem of evil. In a nutshell, the following statements can’t all be true:

1. God is all-good,
2. God is all-powerful,
3. God created the universe,
4. Evil exists in the universe

Various ways to work around this problem have people re-defining evil, or finding ways to have God self-limit His power for some ultimate end that justifies the existence of evil. None of these explanations make any sense for me. And in coming to that realization, I understood that logic, flawed though it might be, is a valuable tool for figuring things out. So is science, and reason. All these things rely on reproducible results, and on observing actual events rather than imagining events that would be “better”, somehow. So, for me, belief is all well and good but belief is trumped by reason.

I can believe lots of things. However, I can use various mental tools to discern between beliefs that actually produce positive results right here and now, and beliefs that get me or others hurt right here and now.

But, and we see this in the article linked above, people still see atheists in terms of what they “believe” or not. And, somehow, most Americans are frightened of someone who doesn’t simply “believe” in invisible, unprovable things. Is it really that scary? I’m oriented towards action, and trying to find actions in this world that produce positive results for people right now or very soon, rather than having some vague, internalized belief that may or may not produce a positive result after my death.

In this way, I think, atheism (at least for me) has more in common with other religions – in my focus on concrete results, rather than ethereal far-off events that may or may not take place. Isn’t having an immediate feedback loop for reinforcing decisions made, such as I try to practice, a better mechanism for producing socially positive actions?

And, that being the case: isn’t that someone you would trust more?

Just sayin’.

Two thought-provoking articles I have read recently, and I’d like to share. Later, I’ll post my own thoughts on them, but for now I just want to preserve the links.

First is an article entitled The Christian Paradox that appeared in Harper’s that discusses the contradiction between what Americans profess to believe, i.e. Christianity (per the article, America is the most religiously homogenous of all the rich nations), and what Americans think that belief means. America is the most Christian nation, by professed belief, and the least Christian nation, by their actions. The contrast is startling.

Asking Christians what Christ taught isn’t a trick. When we say we are a Christian nation—and, overwhelmingly, we do—it means something. People who go to church absorb lessons there and make real decisions based on those lessons; increasingly, these lessons inform their politics. (One poll found that 11 percent of U.S. churchgoers were urged by their clergy to vote in a particular way in the 2004 election, up from 6 percent in 2000.) When George Bush says that Jesus Christ is his favorite philosopher, he may or may not be sincere, but he is reflecting the sincere beliefs of the vast majority of Americans.

And therein is the paradox. America is simultaneously the most professedly Christian of the developed nations and the least Christian in its behavior. That paradox—more important, perhaps, than the much touted ability of French women to stay thin on a diet of chocolate and cheese—illuminates the hollow at the core of our boastful, careening culture.

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Ours is among the most spiritually homogenous rich nations on earth. Depending on which poll you look at and how the question is asked, somewhere around 85 percent of us call ourselves Christian. Israel, by way of comparison, is 77 percent Jewish. It is true that a smaller number of Americans—about 75 percent—claim they actually pray to God on a daily basis, and only 33 percent say they manage to get to church every week. Still, even if that 85 percent overstates actual practice, it clearly represents aspiration. In fact, there is nothing else that unites more than four fifths of America. Every other statistic one can cite about American behavior is essentially also a measure of the behavior of professed Christians. That’s what America is: a place saturated in Christian identity.

But is it Christian? This is not a matter of angels dancing on the heads of pins. Christ was pretty specific about what he had in mind for his followers. What if we chose some simple criterion—say, giving aid to the poorest people—as a reasonable proxy for Christian behavior? After all, in the days before his crucifixion, when Jesus summed up his message for his disciples, he said the way you could tell the righteous from the damned was by whether they’d fed the hungry, slaked the thirsty, clothed the naked, welcomed the stranger, and visited the prisoner. What would we find then?

Second is a post by Sam Harris that speaks directly about atheism as a rational response to, and an observation of the world, and the damage that non-atheist beliefs do to the social fabric.

As Sam says:

There is another possibility, of course, and it is both the most reasonable and least odious: the biblical God is a fiction. As Richard Dawkins has observed, we are all atheists with respect to Zeus and Thor. Only the atheist has realized that the biblical god is no different.

To paraphrase Sam, no one ever needs to state that they are non-Zeusians or anti-Thorians – that would be silly. But somehow, seeing clearly that none of these supposedly-powerful beings exists puts me and others on the fringes of human society. I am immensely sad that this is so.

Both of these thoughts are heavy on my mind lately, as I watch the leadership in this country, well, fail to provide leadership, all the while firmly avowing their supposed “faith” in the teachings of a certain Jesus of Nazareth, as handed down by his followers over the past 1800+ years and as selectively redacted, amended, and translated over the ensuing centuries.

I know that, since religious faith is so strongly irrational and contra-logical, that none of this will discredit Christianity or religion in most people’s minds. And that makes me saddest of all.

In discussing this last night with a (theist) friend, I was challenged about what I have done or do to justify my bitterness towards fundamentalist religion (indeed, I’m bitter lately towards all religion). I expand my answer slightly from my conversation with my friend:

I try to educate others about the damage religion has done and continues to do.

I vote and donate to and eventually will campaign for the politicians that promote rational thought over faith-based “solutions”.

I try not to directly support, patronize or purchase from companies or organizations that directly promote religious-based ideologies – but I realize that that’s a near impossibility in a nation and a world that’s overwhelmingly theistic.

I know I could do more. I know my answer is inadequate. But hopefully, it’s a start.

OK, I get so sick of people making this argument that I had to post something about it. Don’t have time for the whole rant, so this short little rant will have to suffice.

Overheard two co-workers having a philosophical discussion. OK, actually, one was trying to goad the other into having a philosophical discussion, and by the way, kudos to the one who was avoiding it because the one doing the goading wasn’t being intellectually honest about it and was essentially abusing his class status (he’s a supervisor) but trying to do it in a “we’re just shooting the breeze” kind of way.

(I suppose it doesn’t help that I think the goad-er is an idiot.)

At any rate, the goad-er was trying to puncture holes in the “theory” that universe was created out of nothing. “What does physics have to say about something being created out of nothing…?” he prompted, hoping for the goad-ed to jump on the bait.

People who know me well will appreciate just how difficult it is for me to overhear something like this and not jump right in. Those who know me well will also realize that that restraint is only bought at the expense of my having to write about it later. Which is… uh… now.

Basically, the entire basis of the question “Where did the universe come from?” is about as non-sensical as asking “Does a shoe make a good goat?” The main issue with the first question is thinking that “the universe” is something like a person or a telephone.

It’s not. In fact, “the universe” isn’t an “it” at all.

Sure, there are common conceptions of the universe as being a discrete object, a thing like an egg or an iPod or a kitten. Some folk use “the universe” to mean, say, the planet Earth. Or the solar system. Or even our galaxy, the Milky Way. But those things are part of the universe.

In fact, the logical definition of the proper noun “the universe” is “everything that exists”. If it exists, that is, if it has a discrete place, with finite boundaries in time and space, then it’s part of the universe. All of those things, together, make up the universe as a whole.

The universe is properly thought of as being the conceptual organizing principle for everything that we think of as, well, things. Since it’s a concept and not an actual object it has no finite boundaries at all. Therefore it wasn’t “created”. It can’t have been created, except in someone’s head as an idea, a mental bag to contain everything else.

If this definition is countered with something along the lines of, “Well, then, where did the Big Bang, which supposedly ‘created the universe’, take place?” the answer is quite simple: The Big Bang took place in the universe, since all the matter and energy that made up the singlularity that produced the Big Bang were all that existed of the universe.

Where did the universe come from? It came from our brains, to give us a way to think about everything else.

So no more asking that silly question.

Just found this enlightening FAQ (via James Randi) and thought I’d pass it along.

It’s comprehensive, to be sure. Enjoy.

The following essay was written to illustrate a metaphor. However, after I wrote it I realized that the metaphor is, well… flawed. It’s still worth sharing, however.

I’ll add this to my “revise later” file.

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Is there no choice so wrenching as deciding whether or not to pick up a stray?

Poor little animal. For me, a cat person, stray cats are always the hardest to ignore. They’re often so affectionate, and seeing their dirty coats of fur and often skin-and-bones bodies, and hearing their cries and yowlps… so difficult.

I always try to scare it off. I yell. I make wild arm movements. I jump towards it, run at it. I throw things near — but I’m not an accurate thrower so I rarely continue lobbing things. I don’t want to hurt the poor thing. I don’t want to increase their doubt about us two-legs.

Isn’t that pathetic? I assume that a stray cat has seen humans at their worst; that they’ve been beaten and thrown out into the cold and had to forage for food, that sadistic children have had their fun by heaping torment on the little animals, and that, in spite of all that the animal still seeks assistance from our duplicitous and cruel species.

I consider that the creature’s instincts are generally good, since it’s true that I don’t seek to harm it further, and that I would take it in if I could. Yeah, it’s an ego-stroke to think that a cat can judge my inner qualities. OK, that all is probably just in my head.

Yeah, it’s probably just seeking food or warmth or might even just be bored, saw me walking by and, having vaguely associated my upright form with the basic necessities, started meowing and following me.

Thing is, I’ll never know. Can’t judge motivations well in humans, even with the benefit of sharing a biology and communication, let alone something as alien as a cat. Is it opportunistic? or seeking a higher form of compassion?

At any rate, frightening it off never works. It only draws attention, gets me involved with the thing, rewards its attention with more attention. It will only continue to follow me, since I have now become the most exciting thing it has found.

So, the choice. Can I take it in? And often, the choice is, no. It’s not the right time. I can’t have pets. I don’t want the responsibility. I think of how one-sided it would be — I offer warmth and love and food and care, cleaning up after it, and it gives me… what? What is the return? Intangibles like the comfort of knowing that I helped a fellow creature on this planet. The knowledge that my actions increased, by a tiny fraction, the amount of caring in the world.

And… selfish, I know… but… is that enough?

I mean, it’s a stray. A wild animal. It really isn’t compassionate in the way that humans are. I was only projecting my need for love onto it, giving it credit for higher emotions that it, honestly, probably doesn’t have. It just just as likely to turn on me, scar me and bite me and shit on my floor, as it is to become a gentle loving companion. And it’s likely not to matter how much effort I put into it; the end result is likely to be random.

That’s when I ignore it. I walk away. I stop shouting at it, stop looking at it, even. I continue on my way. I can still hear it behind me, crying. It may even catch up to me and rub up against my legs. I keep walking, going over my justifications in my head.

It’s a cruel choice. I can convince myself that it’s the correct choice. The time isn’t right to take this animal in. I’m not a rescuer.

Just walk away.

I think part of my problem is that I’m a materialist (believing only in the material world, not a supernatural world) by default. There is no evidence, credible or otherwise, to suggest the existence of such things as immortal souls, or effects or energies that can’t be observed, or deities of unlimited power.

But, deep down, like most other people, I wish that all that were true. OF COURSE it would be great if magick worked. OF COURSE it would be great if there was an infinitely powerful god that guided my life and rewarded the faithful and punished the unholy and the evil. OF COURSE I’d like it if someone could contact the dead and offer reassurance that they are at peace, or could tell me what to avoid and what to work towards in the future.

It’s just that I can’t justify any of it beyond wishful thinking.

With all that in mind, my horoscope this week has been suggesting that I’m very close to achieving a goal, and that if I can be patient, I can reap great rewards. That I will achieve vindication.

Wouldn’t that be great, if only it were true? Because it’s exactly what I (or anyone, really) would want to hear.