Monday morning, PST: time for some science with a side of controversy, Danio-style

There’s a Department of Health and Human Services document circulating that’s got the pro-choice lobby up in arms. Afarensis and The Questionable Authority weighed in on the sociopolitical impact of such a policy last week, but in addition to the significant threat to reproductive rights that it presents, this proposal is yet another example of the complete lack of scientific expertise informing decisions about public health.
At issue is the determination of a time point that marks the beginning of pregnancy. The consensus of the medical community is that an established pregnancy occurs at the point when the blastocyst successfully implants into the uterine wall. This time point makes a lot of sense in considering early events in the reproductive process. Pre-implantation embryos have a vast distance to travel, complex chemical cues to navigate, and a ticking biological clock to contend with within the bounds of the female reproductive cycle. Roughly 40% of all embryos don’t survive the ordeal. These odds are one good reason to hold off on crying ‘pregnant’ until a successful implantation is achieved; another is that implantation signifies the beginning of the physiological impact of a pregnancy on a woman’s body. Developmental events prior to implantation have essentially no impact on maternal tissues, which are just marking time until the beginning of the next menstrual cycle. The massive signaling between embryonic and uterine tissues that occur during implantation, the establishment of maternal and embryonic connections and boundaries, delineating the difference between ‘self’ and ‘not self’, are all medically relevant occurrences in terms of the physiology of the female patient, hence the general accord within the medical community in marking this time point, and none before it, as the point at which a pregnancy is established.
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Sastra here.

I’m about halfway through, and really enjoying, Robert Price’s new book, Top Secret: The Truth Behind Today’s Pop Mysticisms.

Bob Price has an interesting background: he started out as a roaring Pentacostal Minister, gradually grew into a high-end Christian theologian, and eventually evolved to his present form as secular humanist. He’s currently teaching classes in comparative religion — and also happens to be an expert on HP Lovecraft and science fiction. I think this wide-ranging perspective gives him a particular advantage when dealing with religious topics. He’s been into almost everything, and can compare, contrast, and understand different mindsets with apparent ease. His analogies are often original, and spot on.

Even atheists are still influenced by the religious beliefs they once held. I was raised “freethinker.” Nobody at school knew what that meant, and I had a hard time explaining it, since I wasn’t sure what the alternative was. I wasn’t taught any particular religion, but it seemed to be a cultural prerequisite for having a “meaning,” so I would pick up bits and strands of things that seemed interesting to me, and try them on. I remember deciding in 5th grade to worship the Greek gods, since they would clearly be available, and very grateful for the attention. It seemed odd that they had so few current fans. But, by the time I was a teenager, I became enamored of the “psychic sciences,” and got into New Age.

Having since gotten myself OUT of New Age, I am particularly interested in books and articles that address and critique these self-proclaimed more enlightened, sophisticated, “holistic” forms of spirituality. My interest is not merely personal: such views are still held by many intelligent, well-educated, liberal-thinking people – and many of them take it all very seriously, and yield the power to have it taken seriously in secular arenas. These are not really marginal beliefs. As Price writes:

[Read more…]

Sastra here.

I’m about halfway through, and really enjoying, Robert Price’s new book, Top Secret: The Truth Behind Today’s Pop Mysticisms.

Bob Price has an interesting background: he started out as a roaring Pentacostal Minister, gradually grew into a high-end Christian theologian, and eventually evolved to his present form as secular humanist. He’s currently teaching classes in comparative religion — and also happens to be an expert on HP Lovecraft and science fiction. I think this wide-ranging perspective gives him a particular advantage when dealing with religious topics. He’s been into almost everything, and can compare, contrast, and understand different mindsets with apparent ease. His analogies are often original, and spot on.

Even atheists are still influenced by the religious beliefs they once held. I was raised “freethinker.” Nobody at school knew what that meant, and I had a hard time explaining it, since I wasn’t sure what the alternative was. I wasn’t taught any particular religion, but it seemed to be a cultural prerequisite for having a “meaning,” so I would pick up bits and strands of things that seemed interesting to me, and try them on. I remember deciding in 5th grade to worship the Greek gods, since they would clearly be available, and very grateful for the attention. It seemed odd that they had so few current fans. But, by the time I was a teenager, I became enamored of the “psychic sciences,” and got into New Age.

Having since gotten myself OUT of New Age, I am particularly interested in books and articles that address and critique these self-proclaimed more enlightened, sophisticated, “holistic” forms of spirituality. My interest is not merely personal: such views are still held by many intelligent, well-educated, liberal-thinking people – and many of them take it all very seriously, and yield the power to have it taken seriously in secular arenas. These are not really marginal beliefs. As Price writes:

[Read more…]

Sastra here.

I’m about halfway through, and really enjoying, Robert Price’s new book, Top Secret: The Truth Behind Today’s Pop Mysticisms.

Bob Price has an interesting background: he started out as a roaring Pentacostal Minister, gradually grew into a high-end Christian theologian, and eventually evolved to his present form as secular humanist. He’s currently teaching classes in comparative religion — and also happens to be an expert on HP Lovecraft and science fiction. I think this wide-ranging perspective gives him a particular advantage when dealing with religious topics. He’s been into almost everything, and can compare, contrast, and understand different mindsets with apparent ease. His analogies are often original, and spot on.

Even atheists are still influenced by the religious beliefs they once held. I was raised “freethinker.” Nobody at school knew what that meant, and I had a hard time explaining it, since I wasn’t sure what the alternative was. I wasn’t taught any particular religion, but it seemed to be a cultural prerequisite for having a “meaning,” so I would pick up bits and strands of things that seemed interesting to me, and try them on. I remember deciding in 5th grade to worship the Greek gods, since they would clearly be available, and very grateful for the attention. It seemed odd that they had so few current fans. But, by the time I was a teenager, I became enamored of the “psychic sciences,” and got into New Age.

Having since gotten myself OUT of New Age, I am particularly interested in books and articles that address and critique these self-proclaimed more enlightened, sophisticated, “holistic” forms of spirituality. My interest is not merely personal: such views are still held by many intelligent, well-educated, liberal-thinking people – and many of them take it all very seriously, and yield the power to have it taken seriously in secular arenas. These are not really marginal beliefs. As Price writes:

[Read more…]

Sastra here again.

We anticipate it. Or, at least, I do. Whenever some lunatic in a not-so-happy place in his life goes into a happy place with a gun and starts to shoot at random human targets, sooner or later someone blames it on atheism. Or links it to atheism. Or compares it to atheism. Or otherwise brings up atheism, as the not very random target of ultimate explanation.

It didn’t take long for someone to use the recent tragic shootings in the Unitarian Church in Tennessee to illustrate the dangers of “militant atheism.” The Life!beliefs section of my local paper regularly features a syndicated columnist, Rev. Norris Burkes, who is “a civilian hospital chaplain and an Air Guard chaplain in northern California.” I occasionally glance through his column, which tends to focus on the pleasant, reasonable, ecumenical spirituality of good works and thoughtful counsel. He seems like a nice guy. He almost certainly is.

I didn’t much care for his recent column, though, which was titled “Turn deaf ears to whispers of hatred.”

After bemoaning the hatred that drove killer Jim Adkinson and others like him, Burkes rhetorically asks where it came from. Whence that infectious strand of ignorance, apathy, violence, and hate? Well, the killers yell what others whisper.

“In the world of religion, I’ve yet to see more infectious carriers than I’ve seen in the likes of Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins. These evangelical atheists would have you believe that all our problems stem from all forms of religious faith.”

Oh NOES! Not “atheists think ALL our problems stem from religion!” Not the “atheists only see the bad side of religion” meme again! And what about STALIN and POL POT? How do you explain THAT? Yes, the ‘pygmies and dwarves’ of atheism show up, on schedule.

I’m not sure if Burkes has read any of the books himself, or if he’s only read the Nicholas Kristof op-ed which ran in the Times last December. He assures the reader that what Kristof characterized as “the increasingly assertive, often obnoxious atheist offensive” was subsequently soundly trumped and defeated by bringing up Stalin on one side, and soup kitchens on the other. Poor Hitchens, Harris, and Dawkins apparently never considered, never addressed, never even thought about either totalitarian Communism, or the fact that religions do good works, too — in addition to the witch hunts, honor killings, and massacres, of course.

You know, I’ve read the books by all three gentlemen – Hitchens, Harris, and Dawkins – and I have a vague sort of recollection that maybe they did deal with those issues once or twice, in passing. Like devoting several chapters to them, or setting them up as the starting point for their theme, or something like that.

But no matter. Enough of religious intolerance, on both sides. Burkes puts forth the solution: “We must allow room for the conversation.” Conversations, that is, with GOOD atheists, and not the hate-filled, militant, in-your-face kind. Rather, Christians seek and honor the brand of non-believer who is gentle, nice, and neither in-your-face nor in your bookstore nor in your television on PBS. And he specifically spells out what it takes to be the right kind of atheist:

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[[Oops. Forgot this on the first post. MAJeff here.]]

It appears we’ve got more than a few Ottawans here (Ottawegians? Ottawites?) It also seems they’d like to meet each other. I’ve also seen a few Massholes (what do we call ourselves?) saying they’d like to get together again. I’m not surprised. We are, after all, a social species.

It’s kind of funny to see Nisbet complaining about the loners over here when we are actually engaging in very social activity by sitting here chatting. Some of us may be sitting alone in physical space, but the intensive communicative action in which we engage is pretty much the opposite of “lonerness.” (You’d think someone who’s supposedly an expert in communication would recognize that it’s a form of social activity, but….) We’ve gotten to know things about each other; many of us have connected off-line; we sit and chat about each other’s lives in these very threads, often ignoring or forgetting what the original post was about.

It’s the social I want to talk about this morning. In 1912, the French sociologist Emile Durkheim published his classic work, The Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. I think that one of the most powerful conclusions to be taken from the book is that religion is simply the group worshipping itself. His analysis divided social space into two basic categories–the sacred and the profane. Now, being in profane space doesn’t mean being in space where everyone gets to “take the name of the Lord in vain” or say, “fuck-fuckity-fuck-fuck-fuck,” but I won’t complain about doing either of those. The profane is simply the space of everyday life, of eating, drinking, working, fucking, playing, whatever.

Sacred space is set off from everyday practice as a special place where the group comes together to engage in ritual practice. These practices serve to reinforce the group itself. Members are reminded of the values and identity they share, and of the importance of the relationships between them. The ritual activity occurring in these sacred spaces is an enactment of the community, and in doing so, they are worshipping themselves. Why do gods always reflect the various values of different groups? Because those groups are their gods.

I know a number of atheists who attend Unitarian and Quaker services, as I’m sure many of you do as well. In TGD, Dawkins discussed atheists he knows attending Anglican services. These folks are all reinforcing relationships between themselves and the other members of the group. On a weekly basis, at a minimum for many of these folks, they get together with people they know and care about and re-establish their relationships with each other in order to reinforce their values and sense of collective self. Again, they enact community. I think we make a mistake when we fail to engage in some of these wider analyses, when we fail to see the other things going on because we focus only on the dumb ideas.

Religion is more than stupid beliefs.

As social beings, we all–at some level–desire to know and be known by the others in our communities. Religious organizations allow for that. While we can focus on the really dumb things it does, focusing on what religion–not religious belief, but religious practice–provides for people is absolutely necessary. If we are going to attack religion–or, at a minimum, its privileged position in society–we need an analysis that recognizes these social aspects. And, we need to understand how people might find them in other spaces. How do we create other “sacred” sites?

Well, the Pharyngufest is one of them, however small. I think I sort of got the first one going here in Boston this past winter. On a few of the threads recently, Boston-area folks have been sort of asking for another one. I’m going to refer folks around here to the Boston-area Skeptics-in-the-Pub, run and organized by Rebecca of Skepchick. There seems to be a pretty big overlap of readership, so the piggy-backing scheme seems to make sense. (I see on the Skepchick calendar that there’s one scheduled for the 25th of this month.)

The ability to overcome religion means providing alternatives to it, and that means providing spaces for humans to enact community. So, let’s chat about the social, about how we create spaces of community, and how we’ll meet for food and drink.