What’s the Harm in a Little Woo?

Coke_can
When I write about religion and religious belief, I tend to write about the Big Ones. The famous ones, the powerful ones, the well-organized ones with millions of followers or more. The multinational brands; the Coke and Pepsi of spirituality. (Christianity, mostly, since, as an American, it’s the one I’m most familiar with, and the one that’s most in my face.)

Wiccan_five_elements
But a comment on this blog made me realize that I need to talk about woo as well. In my Bringing Up Kids Without God post, I’d said, “It took me years — many, many years — to figure out that, ‘God/ the soul/ etc. can’t be definitively disproven’ didn’t mean, ‘It’s okay to believe anything I want.'” The commenter replied:

Ok, maybe here’s where the believer in me comes out, but… what’s wrong with believing in anything you want? Why ISN’T it ok? It’s one of the fundamental things our country was built on. It’s considered part of freedom. Freedom of (and I add “from” as well) belief.

I can see why belief in God can be problematic (well, actually, I don’t see why belief in just simply the concept of God itself is problematic, but rather the belief in all the dogma and crap that the Church piles on with it), but what about the other things? How does believing in, say, subatomic particles with free will hurt? As long as you’re not being held back by dogma, as long as something isn’t hurting you emotionally, as long as you don’t hurt others with it, why not do it? You once said you were GOOD at reading tarot cards back in your woo-woo days… if it works for you and it works for others, as long as reason stays the guiding point of your life, why not do it?

Religioussymbolssvg
I’ve seen this attitude a fair amount among progressives and lefties. “The problem with religion isn’t the spiritual belief, but the power structure.” “I don’t belong to any organized religion, but I have my own spirituality.”

And while I see where this attitude comes from — and while many people I respect hold it, including this commenter — I don’t agree with it at all. Yes, I think the power structure of religion is harmful… but I think that spiritual beliefs are harmful as well. Even without the power structure.

So I want to talk about woo.

Wicca
Neo-paganism. Wicca. Goddess worship. Astrology. Telepathy. Visualization. Psychic healing. The hodgepodge of Eastern and pre-modern religious beliefs imported into modern America — reincarnation, karma, chakras, shamanism etc. — that have been jumbled together and made palatable to a Western audience (what I call “Pier 1 spirituality”). Channeling. Tarot cards. Etc.

And I want to talk about why I have a problem with it.

Continue reading “What’s the Harm in a Little Woo?”

What’s the Harm in a Little Woo?
{advertisement}

The 100% Solution: On Uncertainty, And Why It Doesn’t Matter So Much

Sunrise_over_the_sea
There’s a good piece over at Daylight Atheism, and I wanted to call it out and blog about it a little. It’s called The Curiously Postmodern Modern Apologists, and it’s about… well, the curiously post-modern twist that many modern apologetics for religion have been taking.

The gist of these apologetics: Nobody knows anything for 100% certain. Atheists and believers, scientists and philosophers: nobody can be 100% certain that the things they believe are true. Whether secular or religious, we all have some version of faith.

Therefore, religious faith is as valid as any secular kind. Believing in God, in angels, in reincarnation, in 72 virgins awaiting us when we die, in Jesus dying to save our souls, is every bit as valid as believing that the earth goes around the sun.

Let’s take a look at this thought process, and see if we can spot the logical flaw.

The thought process goes like this:

100_percent
One: You can never be 100% certain that you’re right about anything.

Two: Therefore, all ideas are equally likely to be true, and equally valid.

(Three: Therefore, my idea is right. But I think it’s pretty obvious why that one’s wrong, so I’m not going to bother shooting that particularly slow fish in that particularly small barrel.)

Matrixdvd
Okay. First of all, Two does not follow from One. Yes, it’s true, we can never be 100% sure of anything (except perhaps our own existence). The history of knowledge is full of mis-steps and false assumptions… and besides, everything we see and experience could all be an illusion. We could all be in the Matrix, or something.

But the fact that we can’t be 100% sure of any idea doesn’t mean that all ideas are equally likely or unlikely.

Earth_axis
The fact that we can’t have 100% certainty doesn’t mean that we can’t assess which ideas are more or less likely. We can’t know for 100% certain that the earth orbits the sun — it could all be some horrible Satanic deception, or space aliens playing a practical joke — but we can be pretty darned sure that it’s very likely indeed. And we can’t be 100% sure that Bertrand Russell’s china teapot isn’t orbiting the sun — maybe it’s too small to be seen by our telescopes, or maybe it’s an intelligent teapot and is playing a cheeky game of hide and seek — but we can be pretty darned sure that it almost certainly isn’t.

Scientific_method_2
And of course our beliefs are influenced by our preconceptions and assumptions, biases we can never completely filter out. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. That’s the whole point of the scientific method. Everything about it — control groups, double-blinding, placebo controls, peer review, transparent methodology, the expectation of replicability, all of it — is an open acknowledgment that scientists are just as prone to seeing what they want and expect to see as everyone else. It’s an open acknowledgment that scientists are fallible… and that they therefore need to try to screen out fallacy, as much as they can. These techniques don’t eliminate uncertainty — but they reduce it, and by a fair amount. They give us a significantly better chance that our theories might be right. They can’t give us absolute truth, but they can give us a pretty good approximation of the truth… an approximation that gets better and better over time.

Ted_haggard_1
That’s why I’m always astonished by religious believers who accuse scientists of being arrogant… when it’s the scientists who are saying, “Yes, we can make mistakes; no, we’re never 100% sure that we’re right,” and the believers who are saying, “I know in my heart that I’m right, and my faith is all the evidence I need.”

And yes, for the record, I do think religious belief, while not 100% disprovable, is highly implausible. I’ve discussed why I think that elsewhere — here, and here and here and here, and here, and here, and here, and here and here, and here — and I’m not going to do it again here. Besides, I digress.

The point is this:

No, none of us can ever be 100% certain that anything we know is really true.

So what?

Does that mean we should give up on trying to understand the world? Does that mean we should give up on trying to separate the implausible from the plausible, the likely from the unlikely?

100percent
No, we can’t be 100% sure of anything. But we can be sure enough. We can be sure enough to make reasonable assumptions, and to make further explorations and investigations based on those assumptions. And if it turns out that one of our assumptions is wrong after all… well, okay. We’ll change it, and move on from there. Yes, it’s important to understand that we can’t have total certainty… but it’s also important to accept that fact, and move on.

Probability_book
Wanting certainty is understandable. We all want it, and try to create it, and feel betrayed when we don’t get it. But I think it’s something of a childish desire. Grown-ups are supposed to understand that there are no guarantees in this world. We’re supposed to understand this, we’re supposed to accept it, and we’re supposed to work within the world we have: the world of likelihood and probability and reasonable educated guesses.

To do otherwise — to assume that, because we can never be absolutely certain about the world, therefore we shouldn’t even try to understand it — is like a child crying for the moon. It’s like never falling in love because you might get your heart broken. It’s like a stoned college freshman being backed into a corner in an argument, and trying to get out of it by saying, “What is reality?”

It’s an abdication of responsibility.

And grown-ups aren’t supposed to do that.

The 100% Solution: On Uncertainty, And Why It Doesn’t Matter So Much

On Forgiveness

Mistakes_were_made
I’ve been reading this excellent, wildly life-changing book that absolutely everyone has to read. It’s called “Mistakes Were Made (But Not By Me): Why We Justify Foolish Beliefs, Bad Decisions, and Hurtful Acts,” and it’s about cognitive dissonance — the uncomfortable-at-best feeling you get when things you do, or things that happen, contradict your beliefs, about yourself or the world. And it’s about the justifications, rationalizations, and other defense mechanisms we use to keep that dissonance at bay.

Cross
I’ll be blogging about this book a lot, and of course I’ll be talking about religious apologetics as a prime example of “rationalization to avoid cognitive dissonance.” But right now, the thing this book is making me think about is actually something that religion — Christianity, at any rate — does right.

It’s an important thing, a genuinely useful thing. And it’s a thing that atheists are going to have to find a replacement for if we’re serious about creating a more secular world.

What Christianity does is provide a framework for forgiveness.

Wicked_witch
We all want to think of ourselves as good people. No, strike that. We all do think of ourselves as good people. Contrary to all the movie villains cackling over their beautiful wickedness or trying to lure the hero to the dark side, even people who most of us would call certifiably evil usually think of themselves as good.

Excuses_for_dummies
And when we do harmful things that contradict our belief in our goodness, we’re extremely adept at coming up with reasons why the bad things we did weren’t actually bad. “I couldn’t help it.” “Everyone does it.” “The person I hurt was a bad person, so they deserved it.” “That resource-rich country will be so much better off if we invade it.” Etc. Like the Threadbare Excuse in the Phantom Tollbooth, chanting endlessly to itself, “Well, I’ve been sick — but the page was torn out — I missed the bus — but no-one else did it…”

All of us. You, me, everyone. This seems to be a universal human trait.

Helter_skelter
And the worse the thing that we did was, the more likely it is that we’ll rationalize it… and hang onto that rationalization like we’re glued to it. I mean, it’s relatively easy to reconcile your belief that you’re a good person with the fact that you sometimes make needlessly catty remarks and forget your friends’ birthdays. It’s a lot harder to reconcile your belief that you’re a good person with the fact that you carved up a pregnant woman and smeared her blood on the front door.

So we have a truly fucked-up paradox: The more appalling your immoral act was, the more likely you are to have a rock-solid justification for it… or a justification that you think is rock-solid, even if everyone around you thinks it’s transparently self-serving or batshit loony. And the more solid you think your justification is, the more likely you are to do the bad thing again.

Jesus_blessing
The concept of Christian forgiveness cuts through this conundrum very neatly. It allows you to accept the fact that you’ve done genuinely bad things, and at the same time lets you continue to think of yourself as a good person… without coming up with a bunch of cockamamie justifications for why the bad stuff you did really wasn’t bad after all.

Circle_of_two_arrows_2
Which is important. Justifications are very self-perpetuating… and they’re stubbornly resistant to logic and evidence. When we hang on to them, we’re a lot more likely to repeat the unethical things we’ve done. But when we can find ways to let go of them and accept that we’ve done wrong, we find it a lot easier to change, and to move on.

And I think the Christian concept of forgiveness helps with that.

Breaking_the_spell
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think this is an argument for Christianity. I still think religion does more harm than good, by a wide margin. If for no other reason, I think religion is mistaken, and I think mistaken ideas almost always do harm. What’s more, as Daniel Dennett points out at length in “Breaking the Spell,” religion is shot through with a whole passel of its own rationalizations and justifications… which stalwartly defend it against facts and ideas that contradict it, and serve to both justify and perpetuate its more grossly unethical practices.

Daredevil_bornagain
Besides, Christian forgiveness is arguably just another elaborate rationalization. There’s a whole class of rationalization that basically involves saying, “It wasn’t really me.” I was sick; I was tired; I was drunk or high; I wasn’t in my right mind; etc. I did that bad thing, but I wasn’t myself… so it wasn’t actually me who did it. And it could be argued that Christian forgiveness is just another version of that. “Yes, I slept with the babysitter and told my boss I was visiting my sick mother when I was really in the Bahamas… but I did it before I was saved, and I was a completely different person then, so it wasn’t really me who did it.”

And in any case, an argument for why a religion is useful isn’t an argument for why it’s true.

Besides, it’s clear that Christian forgiveness isn’t the only way for us to accept our bad deeds and move on with our lives. Atheists — and for that matter, believers in non-Christian religions — are clearly able to accept responsibility for bad things that we’ve done, deal with it, and move on. At least some of the time.

South_africa_flag
In fact, there are already examples of secular structures for contrition and forgiveness. The South African Truth and Reconciliation Commission at the end of apartheid leaps to mind. So it’s not like we’d have to start from scratch.

I’m just saying: The tendency of human beings to justify our bad decisions and bad behavior isn’t going away. And we probably wouldn’t want it to. It can be very irritating and very harmful… but it’s also necessary. Without it, we’d be paralyzed with guilt and shame. Perpetually. We’d be having dark nights of the soul every night of our lives.

Wicked
As long as there are people, people are going to make bad decisions and do bad things. And as long as people make bad decisions and do bad things, people are going to rationalize and justify those decisions and things, even when they’re neither rational nor just. We need ways of getting ourselves out of the self-justification loop… and we need structures to support ourselves and one another in doing it. I think this is one of the reasons people find Christianity — and the Christian idea of forgiveness — appealing. And if we want to move towards a more secular world, we need to find a replacement for it.

On Forgiveness

Dearly Beloved Pastor…

I just got this religious spam email that was so hilariously inappropriate, I had to share.

Dearly Beloved Pastor ,

Greetings from India! We are so glad to meet you through this mail. I happened to visit your website just now and so happy after reading the contents. First of all, I would like to introduce myself and my ministry: I am pastor Ravi, serving the Lord full-time for the last over 8 years. I am married and have a daughter & son. My wife Christina also works full-time in the ministry. We would like to fellowship and connect with your ministry. Would you please let us know your heart for our nation so that I can share more about my vision and burden of the Ministry. Thank you. !

In Christ,
Pastor Ravi (last name, city, phone number deleted), India

Okay. Let’s take this one step at a time.

Spam
Clue Number One that this is spam: “Dearly Beloved Pastor.”

Clue Number Two that this is spam: “I happened to visit your website just now and so happy after reading the contents.”

Really.

Which part of my site made you happiest, Pastor? Was it Why Religion Is Like Fanfic? If not that, was it perhaps A Self-Referential Game of Twister: What Religion Looks Like From the Outside? Or was that beloved classic, Atheists and Anger?

Or maybe Christian Spanking Porn?

Clue Number Three that this is not only spam, but a scam spam, the opening gambit in what will almost certainly turn out to be a version of the Nigerian scam:

“…so that I can share more about my vision and burden of the Ministry.”

Money1
In other words: Let me tell you about my burdens, so I can then hit you up for money.

I’m almost tempted to reply. If I had time and energy, I would. But I’m not sure if I’d go the “stringing him along and pretending to be a real pastor while gradually becoming more and more outlandish” route, or the more direct “Do tell, which part of my atheist porn blog did you like the best?” route. It’s a tough call.

Dearly Beloved Pastor…

Carnivals: Humanist, Godless, and Liberal

Carnival
Blog carnival time!

Humanist Symposium #13 is up at Faith in Honest Doubt. My pieces in this Symposium: “Let Them Make Up Their Own Minds”: Bringing Up Kids Without God, and Atheist Funerals. My favorite other pieces in this Symposium: How can we console others (and ourselves) without heaven or an afterlife? at Mind on Fire, and Political Considerations for Religious Belief at Atheist Ethicist.

Carnival of the Godless #82 is up at Axis of Jared. My piece in this Carnival: The Meaning of Death, Part 2 of Many: Motivation and Mid-Life Crises. My favorite other piece in this Carnival: Respect is a two-way street at The Mutt’s Nuts.

And Carnival of the Liberals #54 is up at Neural Gourmet. I don’t have any pieces in it this time, but it’s still a great carnival. My favorite piece: A Comedy Writer on Strike at Writopia Lab.

If you’re a humanist, godless, or liberal blogger, and want to get in on the blog carnival fun, here are submission forms for the Humanist Symposium, Carnival of the Godless, and Carnival of the Liberals. Happy reading, and happy blogging!

Carnivals: Humanist, Godless, and Liberal

Atheism in Pop Culture Part 8: Oliver Sacks

Musicophilia
I’ve been reading the new Oliver Sacks book, Musicophilia: Tales of Music and the Brain (a wonderful birthday present — thanks, L & K!). And on Page 35, he’s talking about how music can be triggered in our minds by association, and he says this:

As I write, in New York in mid-December, the city is full of Christmas trees and menorahs. I would be inclined to say, as an old Jewish atheist, that these things mean nothing to me, but Hannukah songs are evoked in my mind whenever an image of a menorah impinges on my retina, even when I am not consciously aware of it.

Neat! I like how casually he mentions it; not as a big “I Am An Atheist” announcement, but as a passing reference to explain a point. This may be the first time he’s come out in print as an atheist, though; he’s currently listed on the Celebrity Atheists site under the Ambiguous category. If that’s true, it makes me like the casualness of it all the better. It makes me think that the atheist movement is having an effect, and making it less of a big deal for people to declare their atheism in public.

Anyway. Neat.

*****

Addendum: He’s no longer listed as Ambiguous in the Celebrity Atheists list. I just updated the listing.

Atheism in Pop Culture Part 8: Oliver Sacks

900!

Computer_keyboard
Atheists and Anger now has over 900 comments!

Comments have been continuing to trickle in on this post ever since the original surge when I wrote it in October; it’s been getting at least one comment a day on most days ever since it was published. But special thanks are due to Friendly Atheist and to Memoirs of a Skepchick for the recent links that put it over the top. Thanks! And thanks to everyone who linked to the piece on their blog or forum or discussion group. This thing really has turned into the blog post that ate the Internet. I am still completely blown away by how many people were touched by it… and I’m very touched that so many people were moved to spread the word about it. Thanks, y’all. If it hits 1000, I think I’ll throw a party.

900!

The Meaning of Death, Part 2 of Many: Motivation and Mid-Life Crises

Part 2 of an ongoing series on the meaning of death in a godless world. The basic idea: In a world with no God and no afterlife, death — like life — doesn’t have any purpose or meaning except the meaning we create. So what meaning can we create for it?

Sports_car
When I was forty, I went through a classic mid-life crisis. No, I didn’t buy a sports car or have an affair with a much younger woman. Instead, I quit a high-ranking position in a lucrative career that demanded an enormous amount of my time and energy… and took a lower-paying job, with less stress and shorter, more flexible hours, so I could concentrate on my writing.

The only thing that wasn’t classic about my midlife crisis (apart from the lack of sports cars and younger women) was how conscious it was. I wasn’t deluded about it; I wasn’t trying to fool myself into thinking it wasn’t happening. I knew exactly what was happening. In fact, I ran with it.

Clock
What happened was that I hit 40 — and realized that I didn’t have an infinite amount of time to get my writing career off the ground. Of course I’d known before this that I was going to die — I’m not an idiot — but there’s a difference between knowing something intellectually and feeling it viscerally, having it shoved in your face. I hit 40, and I became aware — vividly, unignorably aware — that I was going to die someday… and that I didn’t want to be on my deathbed at 70 or 80, wondering if I could have had a serious writing career, and regretting that I’d never really tried to make it happen.

I’ve been doing professional freelance writing, mostly as a sideline, since I was in my twenties. I’ve known for a long time that writing was what I wanted to do with my life. But it wasn’t until I turned 40 that I got serious about making it a priority. Not just in theory; not just the kind of “making it a priority” that involves telling everyone you know what a high priority something is for you. It became an actual priority.

Empty_change_purse
It became the kind of priority that involves making sacrifices. The kind of priority that means missing parties and movies and concerts because you have to spend that time working. The kind of priority that involves staying up until four in the morning to meet your deadlines, sometimes for several days in a row. The kind of priority that involves taking a job for less than half your previous pay… with all the sacrifices of comfort and pleasure and security that go along with that.

And I never would have done it if I hadn’t had my mid-life crisis wake-up call. I never would have done it if I hadn’t started to get panicked about how little time I had left to do it in.

In other words, I never would have done it without death.

Remote_control
I’d love to think that I’m the kind of person who would spend immortality doing marvelous things: writing novels and learning Latin, working in soup kitchens and becoming a championship ballroom dancer, reading all of Dickens and traveling to Madagascar. But I know that’s bullshit. I’m the kind of person who would spend immortality sitting on the sofa eating chocolate chips and watching “Project Runway” marathons.

Heck, I’m immortal. I’ve got all the time in the world. I can do all that Dickens and Madagascar stuff next week. Next year. Next decade.

I’m a very deadline-driven person. And death is a deadline.

I won’t lie. If I could magically be given immortality, I’d take it. I’d know without a doubt that it would be a terrible, unwise decision… and I’d take it anyway. The instinct to survive is too strong, too deeply-ingrained, for me to pretend otherwise. So I’m not saying that, given a choice, I’d choose death.

Gravestone
What I’m saying is this: Given that I don’t have a choice, given that death is an unavoidable and final reality, I’m finding ways, not just to accept it, but to use it to give my life meaning. The finality of death is giving my life motivation and focus. It’s driving me to accomplish things that I’d put off indefinitely without it. Death has turned me from a happy-go-lucky slacker chick with some vague creative goals but no real plans for reaching them, into an ambitious, determined woman with a clear sense of what she wants to do with her life and what she needs to do to make it happen.

And for that, I’m grateful.

The Meaning of Death, Part 2 of Many: Motivation and Mid-Life Crises

“He would have talked me out of it”: When Religion Refuses to be Questioned

Jane_fonda_and_ted_turner
Something jumped out at me when I was digging around on the Celebrity Atheists List. It bugged me, and I want to talk about it.

It was in the page on Ted Turner — the part talking about his divorce from Jane Fonda. Apparently, one of the main reasons Fonda and the atheist Turner broke up was that she had become a Christian. I quote:

Fonda’s divorce papers, however, were filed on the same day the New Yorker published an interview with Turner in which the 62-year-old media mogul said he and Fonda split up partly because of her decision to become a Christian.

“She just came home and said ‘I’ve become a Christian,’ ” Turner told the magazine. “Before that, she was not a religious person. That’s a pretty big change for your wife of many years to tell you. That’s a shock.”

But that’s not the disturbing part. Here’s the disturbing part:

Replied Fonda: “My becoming a Christian upset him very much — for good reason. He’s my husband and I chose not to discuss it with him — because he would have talked me out of it. He’s a debating champion.”

I’m going to repeat that:

Jane_fonda
“I chose not to discuss it with him — because he would have talked me out of it.”

I chose not to discuss my newfound religious faith with my husband — because he would have talked me out of it.

I would rather get a divorce than allow my faith to be seriously questioned.

Or to put it another way:

I know that my faith probably doesn’t stand up to reason. I know that I could be argued out of it. But I still want to have it — even if it means divorcing my husband of ten years. I’d rather get the divorce than be convinced that my faith is mistaken. I’d rather get the divorce than even take a chance on being convinced that my faith is mistaken.

How fucked-up is that?

Jane_fonda_bio
I used to have a fair amount of respect for Fonda. Not anymore. And it’s not her Christianity that made me lose respect. I have respect for a lot of Christians, and other religious believers. But I have no respect for a Christian faith — or any other religious belief — that consciously and deliberately refuses to allow itself to be questioned. And I really don’t have any respect for a religious belief that would sacrifice a serious relationship — a marriage, a friendship, a family relationship, whatever — simply to protect itself from an argument against it.

Some religious believers welcome questions and robust argument. Fonda is apparently not one of them. Too bad for her. That’s gotta be one weak-ass faith.

“He would have talked me out of it”: When Religion Refuses to be Questioned