Put your shoulder to the wheel

This is the most important election of our lifetimes. Again. What are you doing about it?

Americans defeated white nationalism and Christian supremacism in 2020, but like every horror-movie villain, it’s come back for one more try. The good news is, we have every chance to beat them for good. We can deal these fascists an overwhelming defeat in 2024, consigning them once and for all to the trash heap of history. But that will only happen if good people stand up and fight. I want to do my part to make that happen, and you should too.

Reasons for, not just against

Unlike Republicans, we have more to run on than just fear and hatred of the other side. Progressives can point to a long and impressive list of wins we’ve gotten in the last four years from the Biden-Harris administration.

Joe Biden passed the Inflation Reduction Act, far and away the most transformative climate law in American history, as well as a massive infrastructure bill. He’s the most pro-union president we’ve ever had.

He ended forced arbitration in sexual-harassment cases. He’s taken steps to legalize cannabis, made Juneteenth a federal holiday, bolstered the IRS to catch tax cheats, ended the occupation of Afghanistan, won Medicare the ability to negotiate drug prices, capped insulin costs, and brokered an interstate agreement to conserve the Colorado River, among many other underpublicized progressive wins.

And he’d have done more if he could. Most notably, we could have had full student-loan forgiveness and prosecution of Donald Trump for his many crimes, if both of those hadn’t been stymied by wacko far-right judges. But that isn’t Democrats’ fault. If anything, it shows the vital necessity of winning more elections so we can appoint the next few Supreme Court justices.

I’m not satisfied yet. I want to defend all these wins, and I want more of them. I have every confidence that Kamala Harris will extend the winning streak of the Biden administration, on top of the historic nature of her own candidacy. I’ll proudly cast my vote for her to be our next president this November.

Oh yeah, but what about Israel?

Progressives are often hampered by our own sense of morality and nuance. We argue, we agonize, we second-guess our decisions. Too many of us withhold our votes as protest, waiting for a perfect candidate who will never materialize.

Meanwhile, religious conservatives have no such reservations. They worship their golden calf with cultish devotion, they ignore every one of his lies and outrages, and they don’t care what harm he might inflict on themselves, the country or the world. Too often, this means that thoughtful people of conscience lose, while the worst side wins.

I’m not saying we need to take lessons from the right in how to be more mindlessly obedient. But I am saying this is a perverse dynamic that leftists should be able to step back and appreciate. Too often, we let the perfect become the enemy of the good. We end up actively hurting our interests for the sake of ideological purity, rather than taking our wins where we can get them.

It’s okay to support Democrats even if you still have disagreements with them. Voting isn’t a religious pledge of eternal loyalty, it’s a utilitarian exercise in harm reduction. It’s simply an answer to this question: given the choices available to me, which is the best one? Which one most pushes the world in the direction I want it to go?

I wish I could cast a vote in this election to end the latest round of Middle East wars, but I can’t. But I can cast a vote to protect future generations from even worse climate change; to protect immigrants from white supremacy and mass deportation; to protect women’s reproductive rights from anti-choice attacks and abortion bans; to preserve Obamacare, Social Security and other safety net programs from plutocracy; to protect and advance unions; to do something about gun violence in America; to defend science against aggressive anti-intellectualism; and to help the people of Ukraine resist the invasion of a tyrannical aggressor. My vote can’t stop every evil in the world, but I’m not going to let that dissuade me from doing the good I can do.

So, with that in mind, here’s what I’m doing in 2024 in addition to voting:

• I’m writing postcards to voters in swing-state races all around the country. I’ve signed up with Postcards to Voters and Activate America. You choose a campaign and how many postcards you want to send, and they e-mail you a list of addresses and an approved message to write.

I’ve been writing ten postcards per week, and I plan to do more as the election draws near. This is my favorite method of outreach because it’s easy and flexible. You can write whenever you have a spare moment, and send out as many or as few as you’re capable of doing.

I also think it’s less intrusive and less annoying than other methods of contacting voters, which makes it more likely to be effective. A friendly, handwritten postcard is a good reminder to vote that people can keep and stick on their fridge.

• I’m donating money, as my budget allows. I dream of a post-capitalist world where money is no longer a factor in elections, but that world doesn’t exist yet. Where possible, I try to donate to local and overlooked races, rather than big national campaigns that get the lion’s share of funding.

• I volunteered to canvass for two competitive races in my backyard, one for the New York state senate and one for the House. I wanted to travel further afield, maybe to Pennsylvania, but unfortunately my son’s school schedule and my wife’s work schedule just made it unworkable. If you can travel to volunteer, you should consider doing so.

• As Election Day draws nearer, I also want to sign up for text banking. I’ve done phone banking before, and I’m not a huge fan – I find I have to make calls for an hour or more to reach just one real person, which doesn’t seem like a great return on investment for my time. But text banking seems like an acceptable compromise.

• Last but not least, I have this hat:

The author in a Harris-Walz camo hat

I don’t know what’s going to happen in November. There are reasons to be anxious, but there are also many reasons for hope and optimism. Unlike the frequently-wrong-but-never-in-doubt Christian prophets, I don’t claim to be able to see the future.

But, win or lose, I want to be able to say I did my part. It takes millions of people working together to shift the course of democracy, and I want to be one of the people who helped push it in a better direction. I imagine that one day, when he’s an adult, my son will ask me about this election. I want to honestly tell him that I did everything I could, for his sake and for the sake of the world he’s going to grow up into.

Richard Dawkins keeps getting smaller

[Previous: Why I lost faith in New Atheism]

I haven’t thought about Richard Dawkins in a while, but he’s still around. At the age of 83, he’s going on a lecture tour that’s being advertised as his farewell bow. Ross Andersen, writing for the Atlantic, attended one of these talks.

It really is a tragedy what Dawkins has become. Those of us who once looked up to him, including me, admired him for his earnest desire to bring the spirit of scientific wonder to the masses. It was his first passion in life, and that was always obvious when he was speaking about it. I had the impression that his atheist advocacy wasn’t separate from that, but came from the same wellspring of wanting everyone to know the true nature of reality. Next to the power of real understanding, the tall tales of religion are shoddy counterfeits.

The attendees at the talk (though lacking a certain diversity) still reflect some of that spirit:

The packed theater looked like a subreddit come to life. Bald white heads poked above the seat backs, as did a few ponytails and fedoras. This being an assembly of freethinkers, there was no standard uniform, but I did spot lots of goatees and black T-shirts. The faded silk-screen graphics on the tees varied. One was covered in equations. Another featured a taxonomy of jellyfish extending onto its sleeves. These people had not come here merely to see a performer; Dawkins had changed many of their lives. A man in the row behind me said that he had attended Dawkins’s show in Newark, New Jersey, the previous night. As a Christian teen, he had sought out videos of Dawkins, hoping that they would prepare him to rebut arguments for evolution. He ultimately found himself defeated by the zoologist’s logic, and gave up his faith.

However, the evening immediately took an ugly turn. The introduction, from a member of Atheists for Liberty – a hard-right organization – gave a hint of what was to unfold:

Jake Klein, the director of the Virginia Chapter of Atheists for Liberty, told a similar conversion story onstage, before introducing Dawkins. Klein said The God Delusion had radicalized him against the Orthodox Judaism of his youth. Millions of other creationists had similar experiences, Klein said. He credited Dawkins with catalyzing an important triumph of reason over blind superstition. Klein’s opening remarks, to that point, could have described Dawkins of 20-odd years ago, when he was first going on the attack against religion’s “profligate wastefulness, its extravagant display of baroque uselessness.” But then things took a turn. Klein told the crowd that they couldn’t afford to be complacent. Human ignorance was not yet wholly vanquished. “Wokeness and conspiratorial thinking” had arisen to take the place of religious faith. Klein began ranting about cultural Marxists. He said that Western civilization needed to defend itself against “people who divide the world between the oppressors and the oppressed.” He sounded a lot like J. D. Vance.

Regrettably, this wasn’t a case of an overstepping host seizing the pulpit to preach his own weird ideas. Dawkins himself has embraced this worldview, to his detriment:

For nearly an hour, Dawkins stuck largely to science, and it served him well. The latter half of the evening was heavier on culture-war material. To whoops and hollers, Dawkins expressed astonishment that anyone could believe that sex is a continuum, instead of a straightforward binary. He described safety-craving college students as “pathetic wimps.” It all seemed small, compared with the majesty of the ideas he’d been discussing just minutes before.

But… sex is a continuum. That’s not political correctness or woke culture gone mad. That’s science!

Sexual reproduction evolved from precursor species that were asexual, and nature doesn’t do binary, saltationary jumps from one state to another. Evolution works through gradual transitions and slow accumulations of complexity.

If you think sex is a straightforward binary, then how do you explain the many species that are hermaphroditic, producing both male and female gametes? What about the species that change sex in response to life cycles or environmental cues?

Even if you confine the discussion to human beings, there are people whose bodies defy simplistic notions of a gender binary. There are people with chimeric sex chromosomes, ambiguous genitalia, and bodies that don’t match what a genetic scan “should” lead one to expect. Dawkins, who’s a biologist, has no excuse for not knowing any of this.

Richard Dawkins, of all people, has done the same thing creationists are so often guilty of. He started with an ideological premise – in his case, that transgender and non-binary people shouldn’t exist – and allowed that belief to dictate his factual conclusions. Certainly, you can make philosophical arguments about what makes a person male or female, or debate how we should allocate rights based on sex or gender. But there should be no room for denying the facts of nature to support a political preference.

The saddest part of this is that, even while echoing the language and the preoccupations of right-wing culture warriors, Dawkins doesn’t seem to understand why they cheer him:

The day before, on a video call, Dawkins told me that he was puzzled—and disquieted—by the support he has received from the political right. He tends to support the Labour Party. He loathes Donald Trump. The New Atheist movement arose partly in response to the ascent of George W. Bush and other evangelicals in Republican politics.

This is the only thing Andersen has to say about this video call – no further detail, no direct quotes – and his article suffered from the omission. I wish we could’ve heard more details from that call. Why does Dawkins think he’s getting support from right-wingers?

Does he have any idea? Even a wild guess? Or is he just writing it off as a mystery he has no desire to speculate about?

When it comes to culture-war issues like this, Dawkins isn’t just on the same side as the right; he’s on the same side as the religious right. You’d think that he, of all people, would have noticed the stark incongruity of this.

Obviously, I don’t choose my opinions based on the company it puts me in. But if I found that my allies on one issue were people I vehemently disagreed with about almost everything else… at the very least, I’d want to do some serious reflection to figure out why that was. Dawkins seems remarkably incurious about it.

Andersen suggests that Dawkins built his reputation on defending evolution against creationist attacks. Now that that’s no longer a burning culture-war issue, he doesn’t know what to do with himself and he’s casting about for another target worthy of his attention:

Dawkins seems to have lost his sense of proportion. Now that mainstream culture has moved on from big debates about evolution and theism, he no longer has a prominent foe that so perfectly suits his singular talent for explaining the creative power of biology. And so he’s playing whack-a-mole, swinging full strength, and without much discernment, at anything that strikes him as even vaguely irrational.

I think this misses the mark. At best, it’s only a partial explanation.

Rather, Dawkins possesses an all-too-human flaw: he can dish it out but can’t take it. He delights in skewering other people’s sacred cows, but when it’s his own cherished assumptions under attack, he lashes out with the same knee-jerk defensiveness he so often encounters from religious believers. (Remember when I wrote an article in the Guardian offering some criticisms of Dawkins, and he flew into a rage and accused me of wanting to stamp out all dissent with my verbal jackboots?)

Like I said, Dawkins built his persona on scientific skepticism, on willingness to question what everyone “knows” to be true. In The God Delusion, he wrote: “I am hostile to fundamentalist religion because it actively debauches the scientific enterprise. It teaches us not to change our minds, and not to want to know exciting things that are available to be known.”

Now he’s abandoned that principle entirely. It’s almost a cliche: the scientist who made great achievements in his youth, but ossified into stubborn crankery in his old age, resisting any new ideas he wasn’t personally responsible for.

When confronted with sex and gender issues or social-justice controversies that he had no personal experience with, his own principles should have led him to be gracious, considerate and open-minded. Instead, he entrenched himself, exactly like the fundamentalists he deplores. He concluded that he was right and everyone else was wrong and that he had nothing left to learn. It’s small-minded, mean behavior, unworthy of a true scientist. It’s a grand shame that, at the twilight of his career, he’s made this his last act and the way he wants to be remembered.

New on OnlySky: Be an average citizen of the future, now

I have a new column today on OnlySky. It poses a thought experiment: If you were flung hundreds of years into the past, how would your modern morality clash with the sentiments that were commonly held then?

The past wasn’t a nice place, and most of the moral ideas we take for granted today only won out after long struggle. In ages of monarchy, of empire, of colonialism, of patriarchy, of religious supremacism, our modern beliefs in democracy, equality, human rights and tolerance would be shocking, outrageous notions that would put you in league with the most radical thinkers of those days.

Now slide the lesson forward: What beliefs do we hold that the future will abhor? And what does that tell us about what we should be thinking and doing right now, knowing that our era will one day stand in the judgment of history?

Read the excerpt below, then click through to see the full piece. This column requires membership to read, but you can sign up for free. (Paid members of OnlySky get some extra perks, like a subscriber-only newsletter and the ability to post comments.)

So, what would you do as a modern person trapped in the past?

Hopefully, you’d be a shining light to those dark ages. You’d join the visionaries and reformers who stood against popular prejudice. You might become a crusader for free thought, sheltering religious dissenters from the wrath of the Inquisition, writing books that defended people’s right to make up their own minds. You might take up arms in the revolution and fight for democracy.

You might oppose imperialism and speak up for indigenous rights against colonizers who wanted to exterminate them. You might make your dwelling a station on the Underground Railroad, a secret shelter for people escaping from slavery into freedom. You might hide Jewish families from pogroms. You might march in the nascent movements for women’s suffrage or civil rights.

You’d do these things, not just because you’d have the benefit of knowing you were on the right side of history, but because you’d know it was the right thing to do. Your conscience would demand no less.

Continue reading on OnlySky…