Who watches over us?

Lea Guilbeaut had a life many would envy. She had a good job, and by all accounts her marriage to her husband, Hani Beitinjaneh, was a very happy one. On her birthday the couple decided to go eat sushi at a small trendy restaurant on Peel St. They chose their own table outside so they could enjoy the sun (since it had been such a rainy summer). Meanwhile, a huge slab of concrete 18 floors above at the Marriot Hotel buckled, and plummeted to the ground. In a matter of seconds, the slab crashed through the glass ceiling and  landed squarely on top of Lea, killing her instantly.

These types of events are rare, and yet, they seem to sear their way into our brains. Of particular interest is the fact Lea herself had tragically chosen her seat. It’s a powerful reminder that even though we may feel in control over our lives, that feeling is itself merely an illusion. It’s also a frightening reminder of the randomness of life. Such tragedies make us feel vulnerable and afraid. That fear, however, is irrational. This type of incident is incredibly rare. Although I may be tempted to look up in the sky for other falling objects, the truth is it’s very unlikely any one of us will die in this manner. For the most part, the vast majority of us will perish of ‘natural causes’. In other words, we’ll probably die of heart failure, cancer, or the myriad of other ailments that predictably kill the vast majority of us. The fact Lea’s death is so rare demonstrates that although natural disasters are unpredictable and deadly, they are luckily quite infrequent.

The fact life is so random is not something we are very comfortable with. With no omnibenevolent force watching over and protecting us, we can often feel powerless and weak in the face of such disaster. Yes, life can sometimes be breathtakingly cruel (as in Lea’s case), but in general we benefit from the fact that we are surrounded by a huge support network of fellow humans who care deeply about our safety. Some are paid to protect us, but the vast majority are simply strangers who are willing to lend a hand. I didn’t know Lea, but like most people who heard her story, I couldn’t help but feel saddened by her death. Freak accidents may be statistical inevitabilities, but it doesn’t reduce their emotional impact on us one bit.

Our security is dependent almost entirely on the hard work and dedication of our fellow citizens. If your house is on fire, if you’re drowning in a lake or if you fall down a well, odds are good someone will try to save you. You’re surrounded by thousands of potential heroes, many of them willing to risk their own lives to save yours. So although some may wonder “just who is watching over me if there is no God”, you are far safer putting your trust in other human beings than in some mysterious cosmic entity. Life may seem random and cruel sometimes, but one thing is for sure: we don’t have to be.

It’s not my law; it’s God’s!

I think what upsets me the most about many Christians is their incessant need to remind non-believers we are going to burn in eternal fire for not subscribing to their religion. Personally, I find it a most repulsive idea, and the tragedy is most of these individuals are convinced that by reminding us our ‘souls’ are facing eternal torture, they are actually doing us a big favor.

The problem here is not their proselytizing; I actually don’t mind when people try to change my opinion about a subject. It allows me to ‘preach’ my atheism back to them, so at least there’s an implicit understanding there. My problem is how easily these people seem to gloss over the fact fundamentally, they have no moral objection to seeing me eternally tortured. They believe since the rulebook wasn’t written by them, it isn’t their responsibility as to what happens when non-believers die; that’s all God’s doing.

There are plenty of terrible examples of the kind of horror humans inflict on one another when they are simply ‘following orders’. The Millgram experiments in the 60s showed so long as human beings are told by a person of authority what to do, over half of the test subjects were willing to kill someone if ultimately the responsibility wasn’t theirs. It was a chilling reminder that even the nicest people can do evil things given the right circumstances.

My message to Christians is fairly straightforward; you shouldn’t accept the poisonous idea non-believers are condemned to hell. If your God really is all loving, there’s no reason to punish those who simply fail to accept his existence. Besides, there are so many religions out there the odds are stacked AGAINST anyone actually getting the right one, so it’s likely that we’d all end up in Hell anyways. What a terrible thing to think, is it not?

So, please stop trying to pass the buck and claim it isn’t your choice that I go to Hell. If you are a good person, how could you accept that your Buddhist, Hindu, Atheist, or Jewish friend will be burning in brimstone and ash while you enjoy the comforts of paradise? Could you eat a great meal if you had to consume it in front of a bunch of starving African children? If you could, then shame on you.

Tired Christian claim #3: evidence for Jesus is overwhelming

I’ve been seeing this argument popping up more and more often these days. It’s a relative newcomer in terms of claim, but it certainly is one that’s worth discussing. Last article, I mentioned how the word ‘faith’ is a misnomer; I’ve never actually met a Christian who did not think there was a mountain of evidence supporting their claim that Jesus of Nazareth was a God. Really the only time you’ll actually hear the “it’s my faith, and I believe it despite what you say” excuse is whenever you paint them in a corner.

In the early days of Christianity, there really was no debate as to whether Jesus was a real person or not. Most accepted the view that the story of Christ was a parable for living one’s life. Paul of Tarsus, who laid the foundation for Christianity, never referred to Jesus as a real person. As far as he understood it, the story of Christ was an allegory about redemption, forgiveness and finally absolution.

For a long time, Christianity developed many different branches. Some favored a more allegorical approach to the religion (see the Gnostics for more), but in 325 AD, Emperor Constantine convened the First Council of Nicaea, which would be responsible for ‘organizing’ the religion. There, a committee decided what books would eventually become the Bible. The council decided a historical Jesus was needed to codify the religion. The books of Luke and Matthew, which laid the foundation for his genealogy, were included to provide evidence of his blood relation to King David in order to fulfill Old Testament prophesy. Predictably enough, both conflict with one another (with some Christians getting really creative with their explanations).

The Council had succeeded in establishing their creed, but there existed little (if any) historical corroboration of the actual existence of a man by the name of Jesus. Since the Bible was largely considered the only real necessary historical document, there was little attempt to prove his existence outside of Christian doctrine. Why would they bother? Standards of evidence in the 4th century were not the same as they are now.

Despite the extremely flimsy evidence for the historical Jesus, Christians still maintain that the New Testament is a historical document, despite the fact even the books themselves offer contradictory stories as to the origin and lineage of Jesus. The only evidence that suggests he might have existed are the writings of Josephus, a Jewish historian who makes a brief reference to a Christus figure (which translates literally to ‘Anointed One’), but even this passage is disputed. Clearly, if someone had indeed performed the supposed miracles Jesus did, there would be more corroborating evidence for multiple sources. Of course, if St. Paul and his ilk had simply made it up, it would explain everything.

I can only imagine the need to prove the existence of Jesus is a way for Christians to feel that their religion is not entirely a fabrication. Perhaps they feel if Jesus were in fact a real man then everything else in the Bible must also be true. If you’re familiar with logic, you can quickly understand how flawed this type of thinking is.

Lots of Christians believe the evidence for Jesus and their religion in general is overwhelming. In fact, it’s far too flimsy to even qualify as proper history. It demonstrates, however, human beings need more than faith to believe in something; we demand evidence. It just so happens it’s the standards of that evidence which tends to differ with Christians. They feel that by barely proving his existence, they have somehow proved he was a God.

I might be willing to go on a limb and say Jesus may have been based on a real person (the best candidate is Apollonius of Tyana), but it’s not enough to convince anyone with a sound mind this means a virgin gave birth to an all powerful savior who sacrificed himself on a cross to absolve humans from having eaten a sacred fruit in a mythical garden. Honestly guys, is that the best you can do?

Tired Christian claim #1: atheism is a religion

I thought I might slowly start making a list of tired claims Christians perpetually make about us atheists. Think of it as a huge FAQ that helps you answer some annoying claims people make about atheism without actually understanding it.

First off, you might have heard this gem floating around; atheism is some kind of religion, since not believing in god is a type of faith. For instance, if I claim life arose from non-life, my inability to absolutely prove this statement is comparable to the belief that an all powerful being willed it into existence.

What is so interesting about this tired Christian claim is it essentially compares all beliefs to a religion; if I believe the Earth revolves around the sun but have never witnessed this event, I am apparently accepting this based entirely on faith.

It sounds almost plausible; after all, not all of us have studied evolution, but most of us would agree it’s nevertheless true. Is this a type of faith? Faith is a misleading word. We tend to confuse the word with belief, even though the two are not necessarily equal. Faith can more easily be understood if we think of the word ‘trust’. Christians trust that their God is Omnipotent, Omniscient and OmniBenevolent. They may trust this for multiple reasons. Most grow up being told this is true by people in authority, and many also come to trust that the Bible is the infallible word of God. This type of trust does not require anything more than willful surrender of one’s critical faculties, even in the face of glaring contradictory or improbable elements (like a virgin birth, or a resurrection).

Strangely enough, I have never met a Christian who thought there was any real evidence that contradicted them. Once a person commits to a rigid way of thinking (like the belief the Bible is infallible), they will find whatever evidence, no matter how flimsy, to support their predetermined conclusions. This is called ‘confirmation bias’. No matter how strong your evidence may be their claims are untrue, it will either be ignored or attacked. How many Christians ignore the fact human beings share 96% of our DNA with chimpanzees, or outright claim such testing fails to prove we share a common ancestor? They would rather believe God designed us to be different from other animals; that we are special somehow. As far as they are concerned, they know the truth, and it is we who are blind.

Now as an atheist I too trust information given to me by people of authority. The difference, of course, lies in the methodology of how such information is gathered, and the degree of scrutiny I can apply to it. Yes, I trust evolution is true, but unlike most of the improvable claims of religion, scientific theories are constantly being revised. Any individual is free to analyze and even disprove them. Science is a process of refinement; our understanding of the universe is strengthened because scientific theories are corroborative efforts made by independent thinkers. We have been able to uncover many of the secrets of nature from the simple process of observation, hypothesis, and testing. As you can see, this is not a process that involves dogma. Over time, even the most cherished theories will collapse if they are shown to be incomplete or wrong.

For the most part, the vast majority of us do not blindly trust others without at least some proof. If I’m trying to sell you a flying car, you’ll no doubt want to take it for a test drive before buying it. We rarely take anyone’s ‘word’ for it, because we know blindly trusting others is a bad idea. Trust has to be earned, not given. The same should be true about what we believe, and who we chose to believe. If the methods of arriving at a conclusion are shrouded in mystery (the whole God in the gap argument comes to mind), we haven’t gained any real knowledge, and we would be wise not to blindly trust any belief that demands the surrender of our critical faculties. Being an atheist doesn’t require me to believe in anything without evidence. Can any Christian truly make the same claim?

Can we trust religions to stay moderate?

Do you know why the fish is the ancient symbol of Christianity? Odds are you’ve never really thought about it, or considered it another oddity in the religion. However there was a time when the cross was not the official symbol of the Church. Instead, it was the fish (now often referred to as the “Jesus fish”). While they suffered prosecution at the hands of the Romans, many would use it as a symbol to demarcate their secret meeting places. The use of the cross as a symbol did not start until 312 AD, when in October of that year Constantine, who was fighting to become the Emperor of Rome, adopted the cross as a sign of his impending victory over the forces of Maxentius. Some say that he had a dream the night before the Battle of the Milvian Bridge that prophesied his victory over his rival, who’s forces nearly doubled his. In his vision, he was said to have seen the cross and heard the words: “Conquer By This”.

His victory left him with few rivals, and as he continued to consolidate his power, he managed to convince the other emperors (by then, the Roman Empire had been divided) to make all religions legal, giving special privileges to Christianity. By 320, his rival Licinius has reneged, and once again persecuted Christians. Constantine took the opportunity to rally his allies, and they defeated the pagan emperor of the East. Licinius’ defeat made Constantine the only emperor, and he was to be unopposed until his death.

Constantine was a pragmatist, and at first he gave no special favor to Christianity, despite the fact his victories were largely contingent on their strong support. However, he later decided orthodoxy would prevent religious conflict, and so he established the Council of Nicaea in 325 AD to remove the schism which had formed in the Church due mostly to the Easter controversy, as well as the growing Arian movement (which taught Jesus was not part of the Trinity).

The adoption of Christianity as the official religion of Rome drastically changed the Church. The symbol of the fish, which had long represented life, was replaced by the darker and more ominous cross. The previously passive and peaceful religion of Christianity had become a violent, repressive organization using its political power to effectively enforce their rule and edicts on others. By ‘Romanizing’ Christianity, Constantine had essentially made it a religion of war, not of peace.

As they consolidated their power, the Church began to systematically destroy any evidence of other pagan religions. Any works that violated the Nicene Creed were either suppressed or completely destroyed. What followed was a thousand years of brutal tyranny, prosecution, and religiously motivated wars. We call this time the ‘Dark Ages’.

Although the modern face of Christianity now more closely resembles its earlier form, the documents that eventually formed the Bible were brought together to create a political religion to control the masses and provide unprecedented power to the Church. Only during the Enlightenment did we succeed in breaking their stranglehold. The result was the modernization of our civilization.

Can we trust Christianity, or any other political religion (such as Islam or Hinduism) not to revert back to their combative and primitive selves? The answer is an emphatic no. Although it may be mild and nonthreatening now, moderate Christianity is only possible because it has adapted itself to our modern ethical understanding. There is no reason to believe this will continue to be true. As religion becomes more marginalized in our society, its more primitive and violent elements resurface; one only needs to listen to the utterances of religious conservatives to realize how tentative their modernity is.

Does loving dogs make you a genocidal monster?

Ok, that may sound like a stupid question, but let me refer you to the picture above. Hitler loved his dog, and he was responsible for the Holocaust. Surely, according to this logic, I’ve made a powerful case against owning canines.

If you think I’ve gone insane, rest assured I’m only trying to prove a point. There’s an article on Proud Atheist that tries to debunk the claim Christians make about Hitler’s personal religious beliefs, therefore encouraging me to write my thoughts on the matter. I’ve usually avoided this subject in the past, mostly because it’s spurious reasoning. However, it’s one of those old arguments that doesn’t go away, no matter what anyone has to say about it. It deserves to be discussed, and more specifically, to be put to rest.

If you want to know why Christians love telling people Hitler was an atheist, it is because he was one to some degree. I know there are a lot of examples in his book and speeches about him making reference to God, but the reason isn’t that he personally believed in a higher power; merely that he understood the appeal of it. He thought, as Karl Marx did, that religion was the opiate of the people.

Hitler’s beliefs were pragmatic to say the least. He identified more with Islam than Christianity, which he felt was meek and shapeless. In other words, Hitler favored ideologies and belief more suited for his own purpose, or what some would call ‘politically convenient’. It’s why he allied himself with the Catholic church in an attempt to eliminate Jews from society.

The Church likes to think we’ve all forgotten about Christian complacency in the light of the Holocaust simply because Pope John Paul II later apologized for what happened. His hollow words were of little comfort for the millions dead, many of them the direct result of the church’s involvement (or lack thereof).

The Nazis have come to symbolize evil in this world, and it’s not without merit. They were not, however, an atheistic organization in any sense. Hitler took great care to mask his non belief specifically because he knew support for his monstrous initiatives would derive from the largely religious German population. And because antisemitism had such a long history in Europe, it was easy to shape their mistrust of the Jews into outright genocide.

Still, the specter of Hitler haunts the world, and his ghostly image is often distorted to suit the needs of history’s revisionists. Rather than admit to their participation in the Holocaust, Christians want to put all the blame on Hitler, as if he single-handedly killed every Jew. His atheism, they believe, must have been the cause of his evil. Well, Hitler also loved his dog, but you don’t hear a lot of canine lovers being compared to him, do you? Obviously we understand the weakness in trying making a link between loving dogs and being a murderous psycho. Why is atheism any different? How does not believing in God suddenly lead a person to aberrant behavior?

The real problem is Christians haven’t put much effort into understanding our position as atheists. They believe the rejection of a metaphysical god somehow erases all moral impetus from a person. It is this lack of empathy I find frightening, because it is specifically our ability as humans to empathize with others that is our real moral compass, not some ancient manuscript. It’s why the best way to entice a population to act outside of their normal moral framework is to first dehumanize the enemy, thus rendering empathy impossible. If there’s a lesson to be learned from the tragedy of genocide, it’s once a population begins to see other people as less human, less moral, and less righteous than themselves, the consequences are indeed dire.

So next time you hear a Christian tell you Hitler was an atheist, simply tell him/her he was also a dog lover, painter, and budding architect. Surely those must have counted for some of his evil as well, no?

On the controversy of atheism

In my own life, I have always sought out issues that are controversial. It’s no secret I’m a highly opinionated individual; I’ve chosen to take a stand on issues I consider to be of fundamental importance. I know there are many out there, even some of my fans, who consider the issue of a person’s religion to be a private affair. One fan accused me of being insensitive by ‘outing’ my sister on my radio show, believing her marriage was now in trouble for me doing so (it isn’t, so everyone can relax).

It’s reminded me that there are many who feel the issue of a person’s belief should remain entirely private, specifically because of the turmoil it can cause. This, in my opinion, is exactly WHY it cannot remain only personal. Religion does not exist in a bubble. It infects every part of a person’s life. It makes them hate gays, distrust evolution, demand stem cell research be halted, and worst of all, tries to infect the minds of other human beings. If religion were a drug, the warning label would read as follows:

WARNING: when ingested, religion may cause feelings of euphoria, delusion, hallucinations, irritability, intolerance, violent behavior, inflexibility, oppression, irrationality, and will impair your ability to formulate logical thought.

It’s important to try and look at the bigger picture when considering what it means to actually be an atheist. I’m aware most people would love nothing more than the opportunity to be left alone about this issue, but in truth this is impossible so long as religion still plays a role in dictating the lives of other human beings who in turn affect our lives. Perhaps some of you who are non-believers have taken a passive attitude towards the whole affair. But religion is a slow poison infecting everything it touches, and passivity is not the way to fight it.

Atheism is controversial, and I can see why so many people are covert about it. I find this to be a shame; if you don’t believe in the afterlife, than why spend your only life living in fear and hiding your true feelings and beliefs from others, merely for the convenience? Perhaps some of you think admitting your godlessness would only create a rift in your relationship with your family and loved ones. But ask yourself this question: who would be the one creating that rift? What does that tell you about the danger or religion?

There are places in the world where atheism is a death sentence. I think about this every time I talk about it. As I contribute to the dialog about living life without God, I feel in some way I am helping pave the way for others to ‘come out godless‘ and to finally have the chance to talk about their non-belief. I cannot sit idly by and watch religion destroy the lives of those who chose not to buy into the hype. I hope that as these issues grow in visibility and importance, more people will feel compelled to take part in that dialog rather than retreat to the safety of having no opinion on the subject.

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Do you question everything?

Unreasonable Faith asks an interesting question to the faithful: What if God was Disproved? I think, however, the answer to this question is fairly obvious: they would ignore it. Think about all the things religious people already ignore: evolution, the Constitution, sexual preferences (that one literally scares them to death); they even ignore parts of their own religious text they find inconvenient.

I think a better question for religious people is this: Have you really ever considered that your viewpoint is inherently biased? I want you to imagine the existence or non-existence of God are of equal merit (for the sake of this argument), and you had to make a decision about which viewpoint to believe. Before you did that however, you had to consider your own preformed attitude about the question. If you’re already religious, how honest are you willing to be about your choice? Did you really look at the evidence, or were you far too emotionally invested to care about it being true or not? As an atheist, I have nothing to gain in there being no God, since the position comes with no real added benefits. But to the religious, God is everything: moral arbiter, best friend, and father figure. There’s obviously going to be a huge amount of bias coming in, and it’s doubtful the question will get the amount of thought it deserves.

How can I know someone is wrong? The simple answer to this question is anyone who is unwilling to question their own assumptions are usually too close minded to fathom the possibility that they may in fact be wrong. How advanced would our civilization be if we had never questioned the assumption that the sun revolved around the earth? I take nothing for granted in my position as an atheist. There is still an inquisitive part which would be more than willing to accept God if the evidence was strong. It is not. It does not mean I will abandon my search, but I find it hard to believe anyone who is deeply religious gives the question of the existence of God a passing thought, and that is why I am sure their beliefs are seriously flawed.

We are independent organisms, capable of formulating our own thoughts, and capable of rebelling against the conventions and the attitudes of our fellows. We have the ability to question everything, and learn about the world on our own. What a shame so many choose to abandon the pursuit of knowledge in favor of the weak comfort of religion. When you only have one life to live, it’s best not to spend all of that time fumbling in the dark.

Why do religious people hate atheists?

According to a 1999 Gallop poll, half of the electorate automatically would vote against a political candidate if he was an atheist. That’s roughly the same percentage of people in 1958 who would have voted against a black candidate. There’s obviously a great deal of mistrust, hate, and bigotry going on here. It’s so carefully masked and seemingly invisible most people don’t think about it. Still, one has to wonder why do religious people hate us so much?

To answer this, we need to return to the 1970s during a time of great political and social upheaval. During that time, many powerful movements were beginning to take shape, notably anti war protesters and black activists. One group in particular was known as the Weathermen, and felt radical action was needed in order to reform society. They believed if they could show how weak and corrupt the system had become, the population would turn against that system and have a revolution.

Despite the fact the population was indeed experiencing a great deal of civil unrest, the truth was the majority of Americans were still comfortable and happy enough with the system that they did not feel the need to abandon it. The Weathermen felt as though their noble ambitions would be enough to convince the populace there needed to be drastic reform. However, the campaign of violence and destruction worked to further alienate them from the mainstream. During the 1970s, people were tired of fighting the government, and simply wanted life to return to a quietly predictable monotony. They feared and hated the Weatherman, for they represented the very dissent they now wanted to avoid.

There are countless examples of failed revolutions throughout history. These failures were generally met with swift and powerful retribution. In the case of the Weathermen, however, their punishment was not as severe as some might have thought. Intelligence agencies did not want their own illegal and shameful tactics exposed, and they handed out sentences we would consider light today. This is a relatively rare moment for governments, who usually take the opportunity to make an example of people who wish the destruction of their authority (one needs to look back to Tiananmen Square for a proper example of how rebellions are crushed).

What few people are willing to admit is their level of complacency in the face of this type of brutal punishment. People who have something to lose if a system is dismantled are just as blood thirsty as those controlling it. There is ultimately a need people have to protect themselves and their families from uncertainty. This can often lead people to behave in strange and savage ways if their security is threatened. They would view any individual or movement that could dismantle it as the embodiment of everything wrong, evil, and corrupt that their own systems fight against. The more they love their system, the more powerful the feeling of hate.

Atheism represents a revolution in the religious sense. It is the rejection of the divine; of values and ethics derived from the concept of a supreme being. To those who have a strong vested interest in this system of belief, atheism represents as powerful a danger as any revolution. It does not concern them that our actions are intended to help free mankind of the sick and diseased idea of religion. For them, they will continue to despise anything threatening the safety and certainty of their ideas. Although religions often fight amongst each other, they view these conflicts as merely growing pains of faith. The complete abandonment of religion, however, represents the greatest threat to their values, especially considering the power of the arguments against them. The more atheism gains acceptance, the more they see the erosion of their belief structure.

In a sense, I can understand their position. They are trying hard to maintain a system they believe is important. At the end of the day, their hatred is not a product of bigotry but rather a product of protectionism. Atheism is not seen as civil rights issue, because the values and ideas it espouses are incompatible with the paradigm of religion, which our current society feels is more important than individual liberty. We will continue to feel the force of their assault as religious people become increasingly desperate. This is why the percentage of people who would vote against an atheist candidate are likely to rise instead of fall. For them, accepting the idea of atheism is akin to abandoning their religion.

I am not defending hate here, but I am trying to make people see it is based on fear, not bigotry. People who hate atheists are not bad people; they are, however, terribly misguided. If they really wish to examine the worthiness of their ideas, they must consider how their belief system effects those who do not share their views. So far, it doesn’t look too good.

Religion and the need for tradition

In today’s culture, things change rapidly. We almost seem to take it for granted that something you know today will be different tomorrow, maybe radically so. But human beings historically haven’t been accustomed to rapid change for very long. It used to be what your father knew, and what his father knew, wouldn’t be different from what you knew too. There were certain ways of doing things, and that’s all that you needed to be aware of. The process isn’t all that different from what happens in the rest of the animal kingdom; the young learn from imitating their parents (at least, that’s true for higher mammals that possess lager brains and more complicated social networks). We’ve been doing it for so long that those who got the most out of it, tended to have more offspring.

In a way, this appeal to tradition isn’t something that originated only in our various cultures; there was a real need to get busy learning from your elders. Naturally, the way most cultures developed centered around the idea that the ancient ways were always better ways of doing things. For a long time, the West was positively mystified by the wisdom and genius of the ancients. Medieval Europe could barely build two story structures, and yet the Roman Empire had built huge temples and palaces. Compared to them, the Romans seemed light years ahead of them – in art, architecture, and governance. The ancient Greeks were looked upon with reverence; their philosophers and thinkers were considered the leading authorities, even though they had been dead for nearly 1000 years.

In the old days, the best place for you to learn anything, to be entertained, and to be saved, was the church. Religion was your news program, your theater, and obviously, your direct line to God. And it wasn’t just yours. It was your father’s, and his father’s too, for as far back as anyone could remember. Even the priests, who knew how to read and had surely read a few books themselves, would have been totally clueless as to whether things had ever been vastly different from the way it was then. Religion was more than just a way of explaining how the world worked; it was a tradition, and like every other aspect of daily life, traditions were something important to keep, if not only for your immediate and long term survival.

Like any tradition, the way religion worked didn’t change very much with time. There was a particular way of preaching the sermons, of listening to confessions, and all the other humdrum of daily theological living. And like any tradition that exists for a very long time, it becomes particularly stylized, and very good at passing itself down. Tradition relies on mindless repetition; the more automated something can be, the better. It’s easier to pass down knowledge if it can be broken down into easy to repeat steps, especially in an age where textbooks on how to do things aren’t very accessible, or even non-existent.

An action repeated a hundred times is something well learned. An action performed a million times, by a million people, is a tradition, and our instinctual need for tradition creates a kind of automated complacency. It’s rare that any of us actually question long standing traditions, no matter how strange they might appear to others. How many of us truly think about the origins and purpose of a Christmas tree, compared with the amount of people who buy one anyway, and put them in their home? Surely, if your neighbor began a new tradition of hanging a dead horse in front of his garage every May 14th, we would be terribly curious as to the reason why he would do such a thing. But if his father, and his grandfather, as well as yours and thousands of others were doing this for countless generations, it wouldn’t be a big deal at all. In fact, you would probably be looking forward to May 14th, having carefully picked your horse well in advance. If you think my example seems strange and barbaric, consider that the Vikings, every nine years, would kill and hang every kind of animal they could upside down in pine trees around the winter solstice. The tradition of Christmas trees is at least partly influenced by this. We must remember as time rolls on, traditions themselves become stylized, and alter themselves according to our new needs and values.

Traditions becoming stylized do not necessarily mean changes happen frequently or quickly for that matter. They require consistency above anything else, or else they run the risk of altering themselves and becoming completely unrecognizable from generation to generation, something akin to a game of telephone. The appeal of religion is rooted in the need for consistency and predictability all traditions offer. It is far safer to go with what has been done before than to try something from scratch. Our ancestors survived for that very reason, and the desirability for such consistency is at least partly due to the major appeal of religion (especially in a world that seems to be constantly changing before out eyes).

If the stability of society lies in the creation of an institution that at least partly enforces moral behavior, religion would seem to be ideal way of ensuring moral traditions. Even though the punishment for immoral behavior may be a hypothetical punishment, the threat of hell felt very real to our ancestors (it still does for people living today). As such, the psychological tool of eternal damnation is an effective and relatively cheap way to ensure order is maintained, particularly if your society is repressive and life is somewhat miserable.

The religions that are popular today are not vastly different from the thousands of other religions that have sprung up and disappeared over the years, except perhaps in the continuity of traditions that have been able to maintain. Although Christianity or Islam may claim their moral guides are superior to others, the relative authoritative manuscripts they refer themselves to are not especially more sophisticated than any other ancient religion. Greek mythology is rich in moral homilies, and in some ways paint a far more accurate picture of human behavior, from vanity (with the story of Narcissus) to curiosity (Pandora’s Box). What is perhaps more unique of the “three great monotheistic religions” is the fact their moral homilies are codified into explicit rules of living, rather then simple storytelling. Christianity became the dominant religion, unsurprisingly, after Constantine reformed the book that was later to be known as the Bible during the Council of Nicaea. His efforts transformed Christianity from cult to bureaucratic institutions, all with specified beliefs and traditions. It would be these traditions that would dictate the fate of the Western world for the next 1800 years.

The Religious Corporation: Part 2

Yesterday, I argued the selective advantage of belief was too attractive for individuals in a community not to partake. But this advantage, as humans became more prosperous in the West, became increasingly marginal. In the 15th century, Europe began to experience newfound prosperity from the most unusual source: the aftermath of the Black Death.

Over a third of the population is estimated to have been killed, but at the beginning of the 1400s, it had tapered off. The wealth of those deceased went to surviving relatives, who suddenly found themselves with significantly more income. The population, now able to enjoy more than the daily toils of life, found solace and meaning in more than just religion. The strength of the Church was beginning to wane.

Like any modern corporation there was only one thing to do: change their marketing strategy. In order to afford to build lavish new monuments to the glory of God to impress the masses, the Church began to sell indulgences, which were tickets one had to purchase in order to pay their way our of current or future sins. They were the equivalent of ‘get out of jail’ cards for the soul. With the invention of the printing press in 1447 by Gutenberg, they were able to mass produce these, and as the economies of Europe flourished, so did the coffers of the Catholic Church. Although indulgences may seem to us to be useless pieces of paper, they were necessary devices for the Church to stay relevant, and more importantly, to give incentives for people to continue their belief. The Church, which had always frowned upon the idea of anything remotely amusing, saw its opportunity to grow from the rapidly rising bourgeoisie class. They establish for themselves a way of making money by satiating a desire they themselves had created. It’s no different from any modern corporation creating the image of success and desirability, while simultaneously offering a way to fulfill that image.

Take modern consumerism as an example. How many individuals are obsessed with the need to purchase expensive clothing? Where does this need come from? Obviously, the relative serviceability of clothing is fairly homogeneous; as long as they perform their intended function (to keep us warm), theoretically anything would suffice. But there is not much profit to be had if every article of clothing is priced similarly. As such, clothing has become a way of displaying one’s status within society, and is taken very seriously by many. This obsession, of course, can become quite costly, and since there are rival ways of displaying status, it’s in a company’s best interest to maintain our focus and attention on their product. They are lucky that society and the environment necessitates that we wear clothes, but certainly, that is not enough. They must create more of a demand if their profit margins are to remain healthy. As such, we are bombarded by advertising expressing the fact that to be beautiful, we must be beautifully clothed. Arbitrary rules of fashion are created to keep our attention focused on the matching of colors, fabrics, and designs rather than on more pressing matters. The clothing industry also utilizes our fears and insecurities about our attractiveness and acceptance as a tool against our better judgment. Should we spend money on improving our lives, or should we buy that pair of expensive shoes instead?

It would be unfair to single out the fashion industry as the only business to exploit our fears, desires, and most pressing concerns. Almost every industry does it. It’s such an effective tool, but it certainly is not a new one. The model for today’s most profitable corporations are taken directly out of the pages of religion. Consider how alike they are: both are a cooperative of like-minded individuals seeking to fulfill specific human needs and desires. Both function as tightly ordered hierarchies, with power being disseminated from the top leaders to the rank and file employees. Both utilize our fears, insecurities and desires to control the distribution of their products. A religious institution is no different from a large corporation; the difference isn’t so much the product they offer, but rather how long they’ve been doing it.

The Religious Corporation: Part 1

When trying to explain the origin of religion, we must answer the question of how it came together, since although human beings are social animals, the act of creating a stable institution is an extreme rarity. Consider how many cults come and go; obviously, even if there is a fundamental need to be religious, there must be some explanation as to why humans would continue to participate and develop their religious institutions.

Human beings are as cooperative, altruistic, and caring as they are selfish, disloyal, and uncooperative. If a system is to work, then it must function in such a way that each person operating within that system must agree to act in accordance to the benefit of the group, and not their own self interest. This is not easily achieved, since there may come a time when the self interest of an individual conflicts with the interests of the institution. How can a person blatantly ignore his own needs in favor of the group, particularly if this group is not his direct kin?

The simple answer is in a large group, not every operator needs to benefit from being a member of the group; only the majority needs to. We already have this sort of arrangement in our own society. Some benefit more than others, simply by the manner of their birth. Their parents may have more wealth, and as a consequence, have more opportunity than others to move ahead in life and reap the rewards from their privileged status. The reason we don’t rebel and displace such individuals is the majority of us still benefit from the system. There are big winners and big losers in this game, but generally, if you want social stability, the numbers of both (particularly the latter) must remain fairly low.

The complex answer is each human being, to some degree or another, has wants and needs that cannot be fulfilled alone. It is not important that perhaps living in a group, or following a religion may not fulfill those needs; it is only important they present themselves as the only way to do so. When Christians proclaim themselves the only way to live a fulfilled life, and torment, torture, and murder are the consequences of disbelieving, then the stakes are high enough for any rational person to want inclusion in the group. Independence and free thought is discouraged when the benefits to the individual require cohesion of belief from all involved. From a survival perspective (especially in early civilizations), any personal doubts regarding the authenticity of religious claims were less important than being part of a advantageous and beneficial institution.

Just whose God are we debating anyway?

Debating God is tough work. For starters, in most circumstances, the audience is not on your side. Agnostics and atheists are the minority in a country where the population describes itself as either religious or very religious. Secondly, anyone debating against the existence of God seems to have the difficult task of trying to disprove the idea, rather than rightly asking any of the claimants for proof. Finally, the last difficulty is the fact that as a general concept, ‘God’ is so loosely defined that any theist can easily wiggle out of tough theological questions.

The Audience is Not on Your Side

Any sports team will tell you how helpful it is to have home field advantage. There’s a palpable feeling in the air, a raw energy that can be drawn. So, undoubtedly, having the audience on your side is a great help. Sadly, support for the views of atheism is placid at best, hostile at worst. Though most Americans are taught that religious tolerance is a hallmark of good citizenry, it seems the same attitude does not apply when having no religious feelings whatsoever. In fact, when asked who they would least likely vote for as electoral candidates, atheists finished dead last in terms of minorities. Clearly, we aren’t wanted.

Although I won’t try and make any excuses for poor debaters having been unable to defend their points accurately, there is nevertheless a sense of hostility in the air as one tries to debate against the existence of a higher power. One gets the feeling such ideas are not very welcome, and such a debater is not likely to win any popularity contest. As a result, although there may be many individuals capable of defending the views of atheism, the reality is the expression of such views often make one terribly unpopular; even despised.

The Difficulties in Proving a Negative

Anyone with a scientific background will tell you any attempt to disprove a negative is a futile effort, not only because of the infinite amount of things that would need disproving, but also because the claim does not first offer the possibility of falsifiability. If I make a claim that an invisible, weightless dragon is in my garage (a favorite example from the late Carl Sagan), any attempts to disprove its existence will be met not only with resistance on my part, but also by the implacable and insoluble nature of my claim. Any claim made without evidence is baseless, and should be disproved without evidence. Unfortunately, with ideas as old and entrenched as gods, the weight of evidence is not physical, but rather historical; we’ve believed in gods for a long time, therefore, the argument follows, surely we couldn’t have been wrong for so long, could we?

Yes, surely we have been wrong about a lot of things throughout our comparatively short stint here on Earth. Historical claims, at best, demonstrate there is an odd tendency for humans to be religious, and at worst demonstrate, like old theories on what ‘stuff’ was made of, or how the Cosmos operated, they almost always start out by being terribly wrong.

Theologians Use Ever Varying Concepts of God

Luckily, in most circumstances, most of the time, debates remain fairly civil, and unless dealing with a radical, can be very constructive. But in general the three problems outlined above make debating God an often futile effort; in particular, the broad and all-encompassing definition of ‘God’ make the act of debate seem pointless. If I am engaging in an argument over the existence of God with a Christian, just whose god are we debating anyway? Am I debating about God the all loving Creator, the God turned Man, or a ‘Prime Mover’? Is it possible perhaps my opponent is himself unsure?

Let us suppose for instance a debate was going on. I would begin by making a case that the illusion of design is primarily responsible for our idea of God. We are easily fooled by the apparent intricacies of the human eye, or the vastness of the Cosmos, and attribute these to be the work of some divine planner. We’ve been doing this for some time; long before we had any real way of understanding complex forces without the use of an outside influence. If nature can satisfactorily be explained without a designer, then there is no need to include one in our hypothesis about how the universe operates. Even if we do run into problems, or gaps in our information (such as the origin of life or the universe itself), we cannot infer it is appropriate to interject a ‘God in the gaps’ to satisfy our incomplete view. The notion the universe could have begun (and this is a tricky word, since time itself is not a constant, and as such, the idea of a beginning is not the adequate picture) without an outside cause works based on the information we already have at hand. Even if it did not, our inability to comprehend why there should be a universe instead of nothing does not imply a creator.

My opponent might at this point argue that although it may not prove the existence of a creator, it is certainly is not completely negated either. Fair enough. I would be on shaky ground if I tried to argue that the universe functioning without the need for interference from a God instantaneously disproves the hypothesis. The ‘God’ that atheists will always be incapable of disproving is isolable, immune to any testing or verification specifically because the concept demands ‘he’ is. Such a deity is outside of reality and the universe, and as such, is not a relevant player in it. Although the theologians, apologetics, and other religious defenders argue in favor of such a concept, they do so out of the necessity to first possess a concept of God that is irrefutable to their own selective concepts upon. However, theologians are not interested in a God that is completely outside the universe; they require a deity who interferes with human affairs, who takes sides, who offers rewards, who can produce a son, or offer divine revelation to the few who can hear them. This God is not insoluble, since we can at least measure the impact ‘he’ supposedly has in human affairs.

Regardless of his tactic to prove the universe could contain a God of some kind, why would my opponent think the concept he has outlined in any way resembles the God he believes in? Why is it that apologetics engage in heated discussions about the existence of God fail to argue properly in the God as they so effortlessly define him as being Omnipresent, Omniscient, and Omnibenevolent? Of course I cannot prove the non-existance of God as an entity who exists completely outside our realm of experience, but so what? That definition in no way resembles God as he is described in the Bible, or the Qur’an, or any other ‘holy’ book for that matter.

The recent debate of Sharpton vs Hitchens is a good example of this; Reverand Sharpton argued that Hitchens did not disprove God in his book, God is not Great, but rather mentioned only the evil and wrong-doings of organized religion. What does Al Sharpton believe? Well, his comment about Mitt Romney (tongue in cheek of course), who is a Mormon, not believing in the right God obviously demonstrates that he has a solid idea of what this God is, and certainly this God is the one contained within the texts that Hitchens so venomously attacks.

Sharpton, like all religious people, relies on the insoluble God to debate with atheists, even though, when the debate is broken down, the real argument is rather about an anthropomorphized and active God than the improvable one. We can measure such a God, and we can certainly refute it. The simple fact is prayer, for instance, has been shown to do absolutely nothing in double blind studies (in fact, people who were sick and knew they were being prayed for did worse). However, so long as any debater falls back on the insoluble concept of God (related more to deism than to theism), then the atheist is effectively wasting his time. He will never be able to disprove this idea, anymore than he can disprove fairies or goblins.