Thursday, 23 August 2012

Atheism+

Let's get something out of the way straight off the bat.

I consider myself a feminist.

A lot of people would turn away at this point. Feminism seems to have any number of stereotypes floating around it. Bitch, feminazi, slut, prude, crone, somehow all manner of bizarre and often contradictory words go floating past when feminism is mentioned.

I had always thought that my movement, the atheist, the rationalists, the promoters of reason, were largely immune to this kind of stereotyping. Of course, any given group once it gets large enough is going to have its assholes; I just always thought that in our group these were a sometimes-vocal but almost irrelevant minority, to be simply ignored or shouted down when they arose.

This is the definition of privilege. I do not experience sexual harassment, or discrimination based on my gender, and so it was invisible to me. But now it's coming out, and I've been shocked at the depth of the reaction.

Opposition to anti-harassment policies? Victim blaming? Name calling - cunt, slut, bitch, whore, prude, ugly? Rape threats? DEATH threats?

This goes on in a community dedicated to rationality?

Apparently it does. And apparently it's far, far more widespread than I would ever have thought.

Now that it's begun coming to light that this is as large a problem as it is, now that awareness is skyrocketing, it's become time to do something about it. And Jen McCreight has initiated just such a thing: Atheism+. Third-wave atheism. We're not just atheists; we're atheists, PLUS we're against misogyny. PLUS we're against racism. Transphobia. And so on down the line.

I couldn't be more excited. This is exactly what I thought the atheist movement was in the first place. Some have claimed it's just a rebranding of secular humanism, and on the surface that seems true, but the distinctions are there. I've never really thought of myself as a humanist - even though I'm the secretary of my local humanist group, and certainly hold myself to the humanist standards. But I've always been more vocal about my nonbelief than anything; I wish my atheism to be at the forefront when self-identifying. And with the advent of atheism+, that's exactly what I can do. This may be enough to re-kindle my interest in maintaining this blog. I hope I manage to stick around this time.

Wednesday, 9 May 2012

A counterpoint to Mark Driscoll

In the wake of the new Avengers movie, Pastor Mark Driscoll has written a brief article suggesting that perhaps all these superhero-loving moviegoers just want to meet Jesus. His claim that people seem to crave "a half-man, half-something else superhero was coming to defeat evil liberate the oppressed and usher in a new kingdom of peace and life" is intriguing, to say the least, but I would invite him to look at it from a slightly different point of view.

Maybe everyone who claims to want to meet Jesus just really, really likes superheroes. Perhaps the need for a good story, with a villain and with one who will save us, is simply so deep in human consciousness that there are those who take it too far, and actually believe their chosen superhero exists, and is working to save them, despite the utter lack of evidence that such a thing is true.

That these movies can be interpreted in similar ways as your holy book only goes to show just how pervasive made-up stories can be.

Saturday, 31 March 2012

Open-mindedness

I'm often old that I should be more open minded. I disagree, and I've been ruminating about it for a little while now.

It comes most often from the new-age crowd - those that I upset in my crusade against non-science-based alternative medicine. I tell them I don't believe homeopathy works, or reiki, or acupuncture - it's hard to believe the amount of pushback I get over acupuncture - and I explain why, and I'm told that I need to be more open minded. It does come from the religious as well, though less often.

I disagree. I think I'm being utterly open minded, and sometimes wonder what definition of open-minded these people are using. I contend that I'm being open minded because I'm willing to give their viewpoints a chance, I'm willing to hear their arguments, listen to whatever evidence they may have accrued, do my research, and come to my conclusion.

What would closed-mindedness be like? I'd be unwilling to listen. Unwilling to consider. I would have preemptively come to my conclusion, without giving the other party the benefit of the doubt, and I would display an unwillingness to change my mind. That's closed-minded.

There are those who will point out that I have, in fact, already reached a conclusion on their pet topic. And that's fair enough; in many cases, I have. But this does not stop me from being willing to reconsider. To admit the possibility that I'm wrong. To listen to what one has to say - even if it's the hundredth time I've heard those exact same arguments and could refute them in my sleep.

The fact that I've done my research and reached my conclusion before you, personally, arrived on the scene does not make me closed-minded; it makes you late to the party.

And even then, if you're able to provide new arguments, new evidence, some sort of proof to your claims, that overbalances the weight of evidence against you, I'll happily change my mind. I'll stand up and proclaim that I was wrong, and you were right. I'm not saying I'll do this immediately - I am, after all, a skeptic. But I'll look into your claims, view your evidence, and if the evidence winds up being in your favour - well, heck. That's what evidence is for.

I fail to see where in this I can justly be accused of closed-mindedness. In fact, it seems to me that the majority of the time I'm told I need to be more open-minded, it's for one reason, and one reason alone; I have disagreed with what someone has to say. Because I'm unwilling to uncritically accept what this person believes, I must be closed-minded. I say again: I disagree. As far as I'm concerned, there's a better word than closed-minded for someone who accepts claims at face value without looking at the evidence.

Gullible.

Sunday, 13 November 2011

On Indoctrination

Part of this post is inspired by my continuing journey from 'weak' atheism to 'strong' atheism, which is continuing apace as I attempt to logically justify the things I've come to believe. This will be the subject of another post, to come probably sooner rather than later.

It's a fairly standard line in the skeptical community: indoctrination is bad. We give religious communities all kinds of flak for indoctrinating their children, and for good reasons, given that in the absence of evidence, or even logical sense, indoctrination is the only way that religion continues to survive.

But of course, we try to be as intellectually honest as we can, and we try to avoid double standards, and so we hold ourselves to the same expectations. I see many posts by atheist parents who talk about how their children we allowed the benefit of a choice, who were given all the information, and who have, far more often than not, chosen non-belief. All this is, of course, fantastic.

Recently, however, I've been wondering if 'indoctrination' is a word that applies to the teaching of atheism to children. It is, logically and scientifically, the standpoint that's most likely to be true - and I do realize that the religious will say the same thing about their viewpoint, but please bear with me.

I now see the non-existence of god as a fact - I cannot justify this, but it's how I think. Given that, how is the teaching of atheism to my child indoctrination? I also intend to teach him/her that the sun is fusing hydrogen into helium, that evolution is true, and that physical activity is good for you. None of these things are viewed as indoctrination - because they're all simply, indisputably, true. It's not indoctrination to pass on facts.

And lately, as far as I'm concerned, the fact is that god does not exist.

This is, I realize, a risky position for me to hold. I cannot fully justify this belief. But at the same time, I cannot fully justify my believe that centaurs do not, and never have, existed. It's the outright, worldwide lack of evidence for centaurs, along with the physiological improbability of them, that causes my belief that they do not exist - and the same is true of god. There is not, nor has there ever been, a speck of credible evidence for god, and his existence would flatly contradict our entire knowledge of physics. He is, to put it shortly, so unlikely to actually exist that the probability is a number indistinguishable from zero.

The gist of all this is that I plan to teach my child that he or she is growing up surrounded by people who believe a myth, as well as all the various reasons why they believe it. I intend to teach the non-existence of god with the same certainty as I will teach mathematics, physics, chemistry - and so on. As simple fact. And I do not consider this indoctrination.

I'm still working through the implications of this. It's true that I'm setting myself up in a double standard - the religious consider the existence of god to be a fact in this exact same way, and I still think of that as indoctrination. The rising tide of atheism belies this point of view, however. Their certainty is based on myth and faith. Ours is based on science, evidence, and logic. It is, in short, a defensible position, where theirs is not, and it shows in the reams of people abandoning the church.

This is not to say that, should my child ultimately reject this point of view and become some kind of religious fundamentalist, I would abandon them. They are, as ever, free to choose, and I do intend to present all points of view. But I intend to also teach that one point of view is fact, and the rest are myth. Should my child turn his/her back on science and embrace religious fundamentalism, it would undoubtedly cause strain on the relationship, but I would not turn my back. I do, however, consider this outcome highly unlikely, for the reasons listed above. A mind trained to accept reality as it is, and to evaluate facts and claims based on evidence, is unlikely to start to accept fairy tales on faith.

I'm eager for feedback on this. Am I committing a fallacy? Would I be doing my child a disservice? Or would I merely be teaching the ability to see reality as it actually is, without unneeded religious filters? I think it's the best way to go, but outside perspective on my ideas is something that, as a free-thinking individual, I crave. Anyone?

So it's been a while.

I haven't been active, at all, for a period of a couple of months now. This is primarily because I've been working like a mad person, putting in a lot of overtime, in order to get my financial situation back in better order. The urgency of this has passed, somewhat, though I continue to put in hours trying to get out of where I am now, and into the field I -want- to be in. Which will, if I'm successful, eat up even more of my time, but I hope I can make it work.

Also, my internet connectivity went through a period where it did not, for most intents and purposes, exist at all.

These problems have abated somewhat, and so I make my triumphant return. I've been busy, but it's been interesting as well; I work with a guy who's one of the more devoted Christians I've ever personally met, as well as a woman who is deeply pagan, with a touch of conspiracy theorist, and the discussions have been interesting. Combined with that, one of Greta Christina's latest offerings has re-inspired me; it may not seem like it at times, but we're having an effect. It's working - and everyone who contributes their voice to the atheist effort adds impact to that.

My collection of atheist swag is increasing rapidly, and shortly I'll likely have a nice tattoo.

But for now, the idea for my next post is already half-written in my head, and I'm rather proud of it. So why don't I hop to it?

Tuesday, 16 August 2011

Religious 'morality' and selfishness

I've been pondering over this one for quite some time now, but only recently have I manged to boil the concepts down into words that make sense. It comes, as these things so often do, from a discussion I had with a Christian in real life. I find that speaking my ideas out loud, and being forced to defend them, is the best way for me to clarify and structure them when they may have previously been unformed, nebulous things, floating around unpolished in my skull.

You've all seen the argument before, I'm sure; that atheists either cannot be moral without a belief in God, or that we're moral because, even though we're not aware of it, we follow God's absolute morality. Total nonsense, we're all aware, but why?

The fellow I spoke to was one of those people who ask why, if I don't believe in Hell, don't I go around murdering and stealing and doing whatever I please? At the beginning of our conversation he was adamant that if he didn't believe in Hell, he'd be out doing all these things, which is terrifying. I think they do this because their cognitive dissonance about God's morality forces them to choose SOME side when pressed, and they automatically come down on the side of God. Happily, by the end of the conversation I managed to show him why, no, he wouldn't do these things, and left happier for it.

And it got me thinking. How is that moral? They claim they have a handle on absolute morality, through God, but they'd be willing to commit horrible crimes without him, if there were no Hell? That's not morality. The best definition I've been able to come up with for morality is the choice not to do harm do someone, because of the harm it will cause. This is based on empathy, something that the majority of us have and use daily. We're able to empathize with the pain and suffering of others, and thus choose not to cause pain and suffering. But avoiding immoral acts because of the threat of punishment or the promise of reward is not a moral decision. It's a selfish one, because the decision being made is not about avoiding harm to others.

It's about avoiding harm to (or gleaning reward for) oneself.

If I really, really like stealing cars, but I keep myself from doing so because I know how negatively it will affect those I steal from, I have made a moral choice. I don't want to harm the owners of those cars. I don't want them to suffer.

But if I really like stealing cars, and I keep myself from doing so because I think I'll go to Hell, my decision is not based on avoiding causing suffering to others. It's about avoiding causing suffering to myself. I don't want myself to go to Hell.

Further pondering on this was spawned by a Cracked.com article I read last night. It's an older one, from 2007, and I actually quite agree with most of it. The one bit that stuck in my craw, though, was point number three, which you can find at the top of the second page. In it, the writer claims that we, even all unknowingly, behave as if there's a 'platonic model' of morality that we're following. That when we want justice, it's not because there's a 'wrong' molecule floating around, alerting us to the fact, but because we're comparing what's happened to the absolute moral model.

Which is a load of bunk. We're comparing events to the morality that our society has impressed upon us, and deciding if something was immoral or not based on that. And the morals of societies, I think, are unquestionably relative. Societies will often clash on moral questions, and will sometimes live in fear and disgust at each other for their moral practices. Which, then, is the one that conforms to this 'absolute'?

Why, the one I agree with, of course!

Nonsense. All morality is subjective. Yes, Bible-thumpers, even yours. The Bible condones slavery. Do you? No? Then you have made a subjective moral decision.

I would argue the exact opposite of this writer's point. We atheists do not, unknowingly, follow an absolute standard for morality. It's you believers who, unknowingly, make subjective moral decisions based on your ability to empathize. The basis for morality, even yours, is not based on God's word. This is obvious enough; I've already shown you one brief example of where you'll disagree with the Holy text, and there are hundreds more. You disagree with it because you're able to empathize with the theoretical victims of these Biblical crimes and punishments. You -know- somethings wrong there, because of the suffering of the people referred to, even if it's written in the Bible, even if you claim to agree with the Bible 100%.

You merely haven't sorted out your cognitive dissonance yet. I'd get started on that, if I were you. Atheism is quite freeing.

Friday, 5 August 2011

Oh, my atheist god!

We've all seen it, even if it is often said in jest. "You can't say 'oh my god!' you're an atheist!". As if our disbelief in deities precludes us from using any religious language that has percolated it's way into popular vocabulary.

It's a silly idea, but the more you think about it, the sillier it gets. Christians are commonly told not to take their lord's name in vein. I get chastised sometimes for exclaiming 'Jesus Christ!' when I'm surprised or startled, because it's disrespectful. If doing such a thing is indeed disrespectful... then are we not, in fact, the very people who should be using such exclamations? We don't believe your god even exists, let alone that he needs to be accorded respect. When I say 'Oh my god!' in a disrespectful manner, this fits in perfectly with my worldview that religious ideas are silly and should be abandoned.

When you tell me that as an atheist, I'm not allowed to use such utterances, you're implying that you, as a Christian, are allowed to do so. And in doing so, you're disrespecting the very deity that you profess to love and worship.

I say, you, as a believer, are the one who isn't allowed to take the lord's name in vain. Me? I disrespect gods all the time. It's kinda what I do. Makes perfect sense that I'd do so in the arena of expletives as well.