Yet another apologist simpers feebly

Paul Wallace (who?) is declaring victory in the conflict between science and religion, with the most specious reasoning. His big general argument is that the New Atheists are old.

This year has marked, I believe, the beginning of the end of the war between science and religion. Creationism cannot last. The New Atheists are now old (or departed).

That little dig about “departed” atheists is, clearly enough, a rather nasty reference to Christopher Hitchens, and the link goes to a religious argument about whether he’s in hell or not. It is revealing that these Christians can’t even try to make a rational argument without playing ghoul. But it’s also wrong; as an activist in the atheist movement for about 15+ years, what has been most notable to me is how much younger the movement gets every year. As has been pointed out many times, the fastest growing segment of the religious question is the Nones, who reject the whole mess.

After that little falsehood, Wallace’s arguments disintegrate rapidly. His sole tactic is to list 10 people, marginal or tangential to the whole movement on either side, and point and say, “Look! They don’t hate religion! Therefore, we’re winning.” It’s a pathetic and irrational effort. Here is his list of the Big 10 reconciling science and religion.

10. Karl Giberson, science & religion writer and former physicist, for reminding evangelicals that science is not the enemy

Right. The Karl Giberson who was squeezed out of the website he cofounded, as Biologos cozies up to fundagelical literalists? It seems to me that the real lesson here is that the evangelicals are reminding Giberson that science is the enemy.

9. Jon Huntsman, U.S. Ambassador to China, former Governor of Utah, candidate for the 2012 Republican nomination for president, for decoupling conservative politics and creationism

Huntsman was the only Republican candidate for president to speak out for the scientific views on evolution and global warming. He also doesn’t stand a prayer of getting the nomination. His position is a confirmation that the Christian majority hates science. And mormons.

8. Jon Stewart, political satirist, for shining light on American Atheists’ frivolous lawsuit against the inclusion of the Ground Zero cross in the 9/11 memorial museum

I wasn’t that enthusiastic myself, but I don’t think it was frivolous. I think the “ground zero cross” highlights the stupidity of Christianity — to think, they found two metal bars that had been welded at right angles to one another in some wreckage!

7. Nidhal Guessoum, astrophysicist, for reminding us that, in the minds of nearly 1.6 billion people, “science and religion” does not mean “science and Christianity”

Somehow, the fact that they found a guy who favors good science, and is also a member of a religion that has discouraged science to the point that only 10-20% of its members accept evolution (which Wallace comes right out and admits), is regarded as a victory for religion? So to some people, “science and religion” means “science and Islam”, and the overwhelming majority of them detest science.

6. Jack Templeton, surgeon, president and chairman of the John Templeton Foundation, for bringing science into the church

Hmmm. Reactionary fundamentalist Christian who donates substantial sums of money to defeat gay marriage initiatives and also strains to coopt science to support his religious beliefs is supposed to be an example of religion and science finding a middle ground? It looks more like moral and scientific bankruptcy to me. He’s a guy trying to bring the church into science, not vice versa.

5. Chris Stedman, interfaith activist and super-swell atheist guy, for decoupling atheism from science, and for being the face of a kinder, gentler atheism

Fuck “kinder, gentler atheism”. Finding one smiley apologist for faith who is too craven to confront the real lies of religion does not convince me that the New Atheism is in decline at all. These pandering compromisers will always be popular with the subset of the population that dreads rocking the boat…and they’ll always be the ones fighting against change and for the status quo.

4. Rachel Held Evans, author, speaker, blogger, for making science & religion her thing, but not her main thing

Who? Wallace seems impressed that Evans is not a biblical literalist. So? That’s been common for quite some time.

3. All Those People Who Are Not Backing the Ark Park, for keeping the sure-to-be-divisive Ark Encounter from its scheduled August groundbreaking

What? The majority of Christians in Kentucky are in favor of the nonsensical giant ark, and somehow this tells Wallace that religion and science are reconciled?

2. Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama, for reminding us that being ethical does not depend on belief in a personal God—nor, particularly, on science

I have never been sympathetic to the Dalai Lama. Sure, he smiles a lot — that seems to be the sole criterion for thinking he’s a hero of religion — but he represents a misogynistic, theocratic tyranny that wants to get back in power in the homeland of Tibet. Charismatic tyrants may be one kind of religious ideal, but not mine.

1. Terrence Malick, filmmaker, for reminding us that art may be the most compelling way to reconcile science & religion

Haven’t seen his movie. Not really interested in seeing it, either. I don’t think an art-house movie represents the state of religion in this country, and especially since Wallace mainly seems to like it for its biblical roots, it’s not exactly a slice of scientific thought, either.

That’s it. That’s Wallace’s great groundswell of pro-religious, pro-science belief that is sweeping the country — 10 marginal characters who meet Wallace’s criterion of being nice and non-confrontational. I’m sorry, but cherry-picking the population for the wimpiest set of useless apologists (or twisting their positions to hide their actual agendas) is not very impressive.

Although I did think it entirely appropriate to see Stedman and Templeton on the same list. Both are playing exactly the same game from different sides of the playing field.

(I am not alone in finding Wallace risible. Greg Laden has commented, and Ian Cromwell tears him a new one. Expect more of the freethought to rise to point and laugh at Wallace in the near future.)


And now…Ophelia makes the interesting point that the apologists are actually divisive and increase the combativeness.

von Däniken poisons everything

Gah, the stupid, it burns. Ridley Scott is making a kind of prequel to Alien called Prometheus, which sounds fun; I liked the first two movies in the Alien franchise. But his rationale dismays me, and makes me regard Scott as a bit dim.

"The (space) journey, metaphorically, is about a challenge to the gods," Scott said. But Scott’s ambitions with Prometheus go far beyond simply restarting a hit franchise. The British director said the film’s storyline, and script by David Lindelof, was partially inspired by the writings of legendary Swiss sci-fi writer Eric van Daniken.

Van Daniken, author of 1968 bestseller Chariot of the Gods, is best known as the first proponent of the so-called ancient astronaut theory, which holds that aliens kick-started civilization on earth. "NASA and the Vatican agree that is almost mathematically impossible that we can be where we are today without there being a little help along the way," Scott said. "That’s what we’re looking at (in the film), at some of Eric van Daniken’s ideas of how did we humans come about."

I had to laugh at the claim that von Däniken was a “sci-fi writer”. He wasn’t. He was a pseudo-science writer who believed that his nonsense about aliens helping the Egyptians construct the pyramids (and other belittlings of human abilities) was actual history. I’ve read a couple of his books, many years ago, and they were so hopelessly inane and incompetently supported that I rejected them as a high school student. It doesn’t say much about Scott’s scientific discrimination that he can be inspired by that drivel, and it is just about as damning to his competence at recognizing a good story that he mistook it for a sci-fi novel.

I also don’t consider the opinion of a bunch of engineers or a gang of theological thugs to be of much value in assessing the likelihood of evolutionary events — the authorities he cites are not authorities in the subject he’s discussing. I have a strong suspicion that Scott is making crap up, doesn’t know much about what either NASA or the Vatican has said, and probably hasn’t even read any of von Däniken’s books, but is only vaguely echoing the ‘common knowledge’ of blithering Hollywood celebrities.

My expectations for this movie have plummeted, though. Those Hollywood celebrities should never ever speak, because they always seem to confirm that they’re vacuous and credulous.

Bad Atheist Tropes

The Cuttlefish is asking what Atheist Tropes We Can Do Without. He’s got a bunch of good ones listed, but misses the obvious one despite noting their existence: the media, when confronted with the need to write something about those awful atheists, always turn to a simpering godbotherers like Barbara Bradly Hagerty or certifiable morons like Dinesh D’Souza for commentary. Hey, how about next time a pope dies or someone organizes a prayer rally, call me for an opinion? I’ll give you pith and sound bite.

Another one that infuriates me is the smug theist who wants to prove that I actually have faith in something, and the one thing they always choose is “love”. It’s invisible, isn’t it, just like god, so if you can believe in love, you must believe in god. Nope, sorry: I see evidence of love every day, and I can show it to you — and I don’t accept the existence of love that doesn’t demonstrate itself.

Why I am an atheist – Marty Heath

I was raised Roman Catholic, sent to 12 years of Catholic school. I was an altar boy for 4 years, and the reader of scripture at Sunday mass for 4 more. Usually at this point in the story, people ask if I was molested by a priest, and that’s why I’m an atheist. I was not, but the question stands as a good barometer of the reputation of the Roman Catholic Church.

Religious education is a standing part of the curriculum in Catholic school, and always, I was a child who asked questions. Why can’t we eat meat on Friday? How do we know the Bible is true? Why do we think the Pope is infallible? Do unbaptised children go to hell? Where does the Bible mention limbo?

The answers were always the same. “It’s a matter of faith”, the priest would say. “Either you believe it or you don’t”. As I grew up, the questions continued, and became more pointed. What evidence is there of transubstantiation? The Bible doesn’t mention birth control, why is its use a sin? If people who have not been exposed to the Christian faith don’t go to hell, but people who have been exposed, but don’t believe, do go to Hell, should we evangelize to them? What can a professed lifelong virgin teach us about sexual relationships and marriage? “A matter of faith. Believe it or not”.

At some point around age 17, I realized that if that was all they had, if that was their best argument, then the truth was, I don’t believe it. I don’t believe a word of it. When I accepted that as the truth, it was like a weight lifted from my shoulders. There’s really no reason to worry about eternal damnation–the whole story is bullshit.

Over time, it has become increasingly clear to me that the whole notion of substitutionary atonement is not only unbelievable, but intrinsically immoral. No amount of suffering by an innocent can ever assuage the responsibility of the guilty. The “get out of hell free” card is just too easy, the application too random, and the evidence too lacking to merit respect. A diety that would create such a system is a monster, and not worthy of our worship.

Morality is a code of behaviour that gives you the best chance of living a happy, satisfying life. Science is the tool for understanding the world as it really is. We’re all going to die some day, so make the most of this opportunity and help others who are in the same boat as you. The ways we are all alike are far more important than the trivialities that make us different.

Being an atheist in America today is not a popular position, but it does carry the substantial comfort of being true.

Marty Heath
United States

Why I am an atheist – Niki M

I am an atheist because it just makes sense. As a kid, I loved to read. I read anything that had words. I read street signs and fairy tales and the all of the Bible and those naughty magazines and raunchy novels that the grown-ups thought they hid well. I suppose being so voracious, it was easy for me to associate the Blue Fairy and Santa Claus and Jesus as fictional characters, with the downside being that even the grown-ups believed in Jesus. I mean, catching my dad rolling in our Christmas bicycles solved the “Is Santa real?” question pretty solidly, but going into church and playing Mary holding a little brown baby doll and calling it our Lord for an audience of proud faces was downright confusing. How was it different than playing Wendy of Peter Pan for a school play? It was fun, but no one really believed that you could fly with happy thoughts and fairy dust.

I didn’t get it then. I really didn’t. Most churches had brown haired, blue eyed Saviors pictures on the wall, while our African Methodist Episcopal church hung a dark skinned bushy-haired Jesus picture and they were supposed to be the same? Oh, wait, that wasn’t right. According to my pastor and family, them white folks had it wrong and co-opted Jesus to look like them. We were right. But wait, wasn’t he supposedly born in the Middle East? I learned quickly what questions I was allowed to ask at risk of getting yelled out, threatened with hell or outright punished for being a “smart-mouth.”

Before I even had a name for what I believed, I kept my questions to myself as I learned about dinosaurs (that weren’t mentioned in Noah’s story), and reproduction (that, at least for humans, requires sex), and other things that didn’t quite go with what I was told was the Truth According to God’s Word (and don’t get me started on the stuff that didn’t go well with how I understood reality). To my mind then, it was just adults playing at pretend, so I pretended with them. I pretended devotion at church and joined the kid’s choir and ushered and read scriptures and holiday speeches, my fear of displeasing my family greater than any love I could have for some deity.

I wish I could talk to that little girl and reassure her that someday, it will be okay to ask the questions, and the word you were looking for is “atheist”. I almost wish I had the desire to have children of my own so that I could teach them that it’s okay to ask questions, to say “I don’t know”, and to find things out on their own. Also, that I would love them no matter what they believed.

Even if they were little “smart-mouths”.

Niki M.
United States

The dark side of Hitchens

It’s only fair to balance the light — Hitchens was a glorious writer and rhetorician, an advocate for atheism, and a brave human being — with the dark, and point out that there were subjects on which he was infuriating.

Alex Pareene brings up his peculiar misogyny and his support for war.

And so we had the world’s self-appointed supreme defender of Orwell’s legacy happily joining an extended misinformation campaign designed to sell an incompetent right-wing government’s war of choice. The man who carefully laid out the case for arresting Henry Kissinger for war crimes was now palling around with Paul fucking Wolfowitz.

I remember his talk at a FFRF meeting that dismayed the audience. He promoted jingoistic violence as the solution to everything in the Middle East.

Then it was Hitchens at his most bellicose. He told us what the most serious threat to the West was (and you know this line already): it was Islam. Then he accused the audience of being soft on Islam, of being the kind of vague atheists who refuse to see the threat for what it was, a clash of civilizations, and of being too weak to do what was necessary, which was to spill blood to defeat the enemy. Along the way he told us who his choice for president was right now — Rudy Giuliani — and that Obama was a fool, Clinton was a pandering closet fundamentalist, and that he was less than thrilled about all the support among the FFRF for the Democratic party. We cannot afford to allow the Iranian theocracy to arm itself with nuclear weapons (something I entirely sympathize with), and that the only solution is to go in there with bombs and marines and blow it all up. The way to win the war is to kill so many Moslems that they begin to question whether they can bear the mounting casualties.

Slaughtering civilians does not seem to be a solution that ever brings peace…unless it’s carried to the degree that an entire people is exterminated, and then the only peace is the peace of the grave.

Hitchens was a complicated fellow: talented and intelligent, and on some subjects he was warm and humane and a true child of the Enlightenment. And on others, a bloodthirsty barbarian and a club-carrying primitive. At least in his final months it was the civilized and thoughtful humanist who emerged most.

I take joy in discomfiting the godly

Ken Ham read my article on Hitchens’ death, and he didn’t like it. No sir, not one bit. So he expressed his dislike on his facebook page.

Some of you have heard of atheist PZ Myers, an American biology professor at the University of Minnesota Morris. (Imagine entrusting your kids education to such a professor). I rarely read his anti-Christian blogs (and would not advise you to frequent this often vile God hating blog site), but I thought his blog today that someone informed me about, concerning the passing of atheist Christopher Hitchens, is worth reading. One wonders if Myers is trying to convince himself there is no judgment after death, in his gloating about Hitchens not being in Heaven. I think the blog is worth reading as it really does illustrate the sheer hopelessness of atheism–and also clearly shows that atheists know the truth in their heart (as Romans 1 clearly states), otherwise why would an atheist even bother writing such stuff in this blog as if he is putting his hands over his ears and shouting ‘God I refuse to listen–I refuse to believe.’ God is certainly long-suffering–but there will come a time when God has the last say. I am also reminded of the Scriptures to ““…not tempt the LORD your God.’ ”(Matthew 4:7). PZ Myers is certainly doing that.

My blog isn’t about the hopelessness of atheism — it’s about the triumph of life. We’re all going to die someday, and rather than dwelling on a lot of imaginary nonsense about what happens after we’re dead, we should revel more in all that we have before we’re dead. But then, we atheists aren’t trapped in the Christian death cult.

Anyway, ol’ Piglet Ken is just blithering away mindlessly. It’s interesting to see how the faulty mind of a Christian operates, but there’s more…a lot of his followers left comments on Ham’s post, and I try to answer them all below.

[Read more…]

Why I am an atheist – Kausik Datta

I am an academic researcher in Immunology and Infectious Disease; I have a general passion for science and scientific thought, and value science education tremendously.

Until the beginning of 2003, I was a believer. The belief was not taught, but came naturally to me as a consequence of the environment I grew up in. I was born to and raised by parents who practise the Hindu religion. As a matter of fact, to my parents, the Hindu religion (I avoid the term ‘Hinduism’) was not at all about the kind of teeth-gnashing, attention-clamoring, intemperate, uncivil hooliganism that has become the face of Hindu-ism in modern India. To them, it was a philosophy; a unifying theme of ‘One god – many manifestations’ – that easily included the god-heads of other religions of the world; a kind, understanding, all-embracing way of life, that taught temperance, the value of life and love, and worship through discharge of duties to the fellow human being. It was such a basic and deep understanding that they never stood much on ceremonies and rituals. Growing up in this environment, I never really felt any clash between my spirituality and my science, because I felt that the two belonged to two completely different non-intersecting planes.

It was in the past eight years or so that I acutely became aware of a disconnect. I am not ashamed to admit that this possibly resulted from three major life events: (a) getting married to a wonderful woman who is a non-believer, (b) both of us moving to the US, and (c) being introduced to PZ Myers’ Pharyngula by my wife – the last two events being of seminal importance. In the US, I was far away from the overly-pervasive faith- and belief-laden environment of home – which helped. My eyes were opened to the contemporary world. The Pharyngula posts, relentless discussions, my introduction to the erudite, reasoned writings of Dawkins and Hitchens – all contributed equally to shape the way I see the world now, by making me aware, pushing me to question my beliefs, burning away my brain-fog of wishy-washy spirituality, and administering a healthy dose of rationality and skepticism. In fact, it wouldn’t perhaps be inappropriate to consider myself a “Born Again” Atheist, given how utterly radically I was transformed.

What an awakening it was! Not aware of anything more than undercurrents of Hindu and Islamic fundamentalism at home, I saw and learnt to recognize the horrible face and full import of religious fundamentalism and all the cesspits of human detritus that accompany it, such as hatred, bigotry, misogyny, homophobia and so forth. I found it grossly offensive to my sense of what is right. I saw people killing and being killed in the name of religion; I found a growing sentiment of ‘my religion is the best; the rest are all hogwash’. I watched with horror religious observances taking such precedence in people’s lives that they oftentimes forgot, or started ignoring, the basic, fundamental qualities that make us human, including logic and reason. I was shocked and amazed to find the so-called religious leaders tout faith as the panacea to all problems, when clearly blind, unreasoning faith was inciting more hatred and mindless violence in many parts of the world. All very different from the concept of faith I had grown up with. It shook the foundations of my beliefs, and I started deconstructing religion with reason. Soon it all came away unraveled.

I thought, “This cannot be right! If there is a God who cares, this is not the kind of madness that should be pervading mankind!” More and more I looked around, I couldn’t find any evidence for the existence of any god, only the very human quality of post hoc rationalizations leading to flawed arguments for the assumed presence of a deity. Nothing beyond figments of very human and very limited imagination, it occurred to me. I also realized that religion had nothing to do with a higher power or divinity. Instead, it was fraught with the basest human inequities, craze for power, greed, lust, subjugation through fear and guilt. The rest was all myths built by humans around this core to give it a lasting aura of respectability and prestige. And this was not unique to any particular religion; all of them, Hinduism, Judeo-Christianity, Islam, even lesser-known religions of the world, were full of hypocrisy and glaring inconsistencies. I came to understand that morality and ethics, in order to be viable guidelines for a way of life, did not really need the crutches of religion and observances; on their own, they could survive as eminently sound, logical and reasonable practices to build a life around.

It did not take me long thereafter, to renounce any contact with religion. What helped steel my resolve was a sense of betrayal by my parents, my country, my upbringing, my shielded existence until this point. Nothing in my prior 30 years of life had prepared me for this reality; nothing had truly opened my eyes and inculcated any questioning attitude. Nothing ever goaded me to see the now-obvious disconnect between my science education and the quavering tendrils of my erstwhile faith. I felt ashamed, small and inadequate.

My denouncing make-believe gods and coming out as an atheist must have pained my parents, although they were gracious enough to leave me to my thoughts, rather than try to impose theirs on mine. But even today, my mother keeps trying to reignite that spark of faith in me. But never again. More and more I look at the world today, atrocities fomented (and sanctioned) by the religions and committed by the religious zealots come to the fore. To find nothing wrong with religion is living in a state of active denial, a practice many of the so-called ‘religious moderates’ indulge in – and that includes my parents. They feel that people who incite violence and hatred in the name of religion are not the truly religious; the truly religious would focus on the messages of peace, non-violence, brotherhood, love and duty, central to most religions. Note that these lofty ideals are occasionally embraced by the religions when it suits their purpose. And to think that those ideals represent the whole idea of religious practices is, at best, delusional thinking, and represents the No True Scotsmen fallacy.

I am often asked by friends and family why I choose to denounce religion so stridently (Yes, I am a Gnu Atheist!), why I can’t simply ignore the perversions of religion, and let everyone choose what they want to believe in – even if I don’t believe in religion or any god. I found out long ago that I cannot change anybody else, except myself. As a working scientist, I deal with empirical evidence. There is no evidence for existence of a god, any god, but there is plenty of evidence that the responsibility for much of the plight of human beings in today’s world devolves directly on religious belief and blind adherence to dogma. That is the core problem. Religion cannot submit itself to logical enquiry; it demands blind acceptance, ‘faith’ and unthinking acquiescence to utterly ridiculous, often outdated, and superstitious belief systems and traditions.

The nature of religious belief is so insidious, that it needs to pervade, to spread like a cancer away from its source. An astonishing majority of the population of believers is deeply busy in trying to disseminate their odious doctrine to others, and none-too-gently, too! It is more often ‘My religion is better than yours, so convert or die’ kind of treatment, or it is done on the sly – ‘Want medical care? Come to Jesus’ kind of way. Religious indoctrination has progressed to such ludicrous levels that the ‘faithful’ often pull out the ‘religious belief’ card at every possible instance to explain their intransigence and imperviousness to common sense. They are trying – very actively – to spread their brand of stupidity to education, healthcare, politics, and other walks of life. If this is not actively countered, it will end up destroying our basic humanity.

Kausik Datta
United States

Hitch is not in heaven

The great ferocious talent of Christopher Hitchens is gone — he died last night of complications from esophageal cancer. We knew him well; that is, he was one of those people who opened himself up so thoroughly, who expressed himself so excellently, who had a personality so strong, that millions of us can hold him in our mind’s eye. I can see him now — there’s a glass in his hand, his eyes are calm and steady, and he’s speaking in measured tones and with flawless English sentences with passion and reason perfectly intertwined. Even if I didn’t agree with him, I’d be standing awed and respectful before his clarity and elegance.

But I do not say farewell to Hitch. I do not say “rest in peace”. I definitely do not say that he has gone to a better place. I actually find myself already bracing myself for the next sign of deep disrespect that is destined to appear soon: the hackneyed political cartoon that draws him standing at the pearly gates.

Hitch is dead. We are a diminished people for the loss. There can be and should be no consolation, no soft words that encourage an illusion of heavenly rescue, no balm of lies. We should feel as we do with every death, that a part of us has been ripped from our hearts, and suffer pain and grief — and we are reminded that this is the fate we all face, that someday we too will die, and that we are all “living dyingly”, as Hitch put it so well.

As atheists, I think none of us can find solace in the cliches or numbness in the delusion of an afterlife. Instead, embrace the fierce strong emotions of anger and sorrow, feel the pain, rage against the darkness, fight back against our mortal enemy Death, and live exuberantly while we can. Confront mortality clear-eyed and pugnacious, uncompromising and aggressive.

It’s what Hitch would have wanted of us.

It’s how Hitch lived.