A long shot

The department of stating the bleedin' obvious have demonstrated that a belief in God can relieve pain. They gave electric shocks to 12 Roman Catholics and 12 atheists as they studied a painting of the Virgin Mary. It was found that the Catholics seemed able to block out much of the pain, whereas the atheists had no such luck.

They discovered that in contemplating the Madonna, the religious were able to activate an area of the brain associated with conditioning the experience of pain.

What else is religion for, if not the amelioration of pain? I would also like to point out that an inflated balloon up the arse can induce similar effects.

Religion is the (ig)noble lie that diverts the masses' attention from the cold, faceless specter of chance. It is Marx's "heart of a heartless world" and provides meaning to meaningless suffering and hope to the hopeless.

What better way to make sense of random, tragic occurrences than to give them a place in the Grand Plan? In the midst of them, rather than doing anything of use, repeated messages of complaint can be made to God's technical support line.

It's little wonder then, that faith induces the placebo effect. Perhaps they're two and the same. Religion being the "opium of the people" and all that.

Not that these mental gymnastics are peculiar to the religious. Only yesterday I had this conversation with a colleague presiding over a minor disaster;

"Well, I guess everything happens for a reason"

"I didn't realise you were religious?" I asked.

"Not at all, it's just that what goes around comes around. Karma and all that..."

"So, in God's absence you think that the universe picks up its tally card and keeps count of our insignificant fuck ups and indiscretions? A cosmic balance sheet? Utter bollocks..."

In truth, I didn't actually say that. A single Spock eyebrow took care of it quite nicely.

Mind, it pays not to think too hard about our arbitrary universe, atheist or not. Well, it does for me anyway. I choose to concentrate on that which I find beautiful to ameliorate my existential pain.

That, and reminding myself that I'm perched on top of a food chain with a full belly, in a wealthy country, spinning on a habitable planet, poking away at a Sony Vaio keyboard for fuck sake.

And what are the odds on that?

and the award for the best Internet beard goes to...

Perhaps I wasn't the only one to get an email from Gerry Rzeppa inviting me to check out the children's book he'd written in response to Prof Dawkins' "militant atheism".

To be fair, it's not a bad read, despite it being a typical theistic confusion of ideas. He writes well so I thought he deserved a polite reply.

As a result we've had a rather pleasent debate that I think may be worth sharing with you. Not that we discussed anything remotely new you understand;



ME: Hi Gerry,

Thanks for the link to your rather interesting book / poem. Despite it jarring with my personal world view, I enjoyed the read as you write well. It does bother me however, how you've typcast those without belief as bitter nihlists who simply dismiss everything as "dust".

I can see how this conclusion may be reached, however it comes from a brittle undestanding of love, meaning and beauty in my view. There needn't be a source or absolute quality to these things for them to be appreciated fully.

I put it to you that people seek God's protection from existential nothingness simply because it is easier than facing the dichotomy face on - that is - knowing the universe to be pointless yet finding ourselves full of point. God may provide easy answers and emotional comfort to the needy, however it isn't the only way to appreciate life, morality and love.

Anyway, it's not my place to debate with you - you're seeking a much greater quarry than I in Mr Dawkins.

Unfortunately, I won't be publicising your book for the above reasons.

Best Regards, Jamon

GERRY: Hello, .

Thanks for the cordial reply. I greatly appreciate that. As I'm sure you know, there's a wide range of emotional responses to these issues!


I agree with you that it is not only possible but very common for individuals to appreciate various aspects of life without the notion of God intruding. I'm not sure, however, that one can fully appreciate such things. As the master atheist Bertram Russell admitted, near the end of his days, full appreciation of anything includes a feeling of gratitude which is left unsatisfied without a proper object. In short, it seems we find ourselves needing -- or at least wanting -- Someone to thank. Without that, our cup may not be empty -- but it doesn't overflow, either.


Secondly, I think many people are not in a position to face life -- much less enjoy it -- with nothing but the courage that a stark "realism" requires. I've known several quadriplegics over the years, for example, and while at least one of them was able to cope as an agnostic, it would have been impossible for the others to persevere without a deeper -- or should I say, higher -- philosophy. It's hard to live without hope. Especially when you can't scratch your own nose.


That's one of the things my little poem is about. Almost any outlook will do when you're in good health on a sunny day. But how do the competing philosophies of life stack up when they're tested under stress? The father in my story behaves as he does because he's working very hard to be rationally consistent. "No sense crying over spilled molecules," logic says. But his emotions, of course, say something entirely different. And since he can't accept the alternative presented him, he ends up lashing out at the preacher -- whom he doesn't even know -- and his "cognitive dissonance," his pain, is revealed. At heart, he may be, as you suggest, bitter. But I hardly think he's as much of an accomplished nihilist as you think. No, he's much more human than that. And I left his ultimate fate, at the end of the story, up in the air for this very reason. There's hope for the guy. Perhaps there's hope still for you.

Gerry

PS. It may (or may not) interest you to know that I was very philosophical, even as a youth, and did some serious exploration in the austere deserts of atheism 'way back then. Curiously enough, I was turned to seek greener pastures by an unexpected week-long bout with a severe case of diarrhea, during which I quickly discovered that I needed either more fortitude or a different philosophy. I guess I took the easy way out! Perhaps God will bless you with a little adversity.


PPS. Are you quite sure thoughts like these wouldn't be of interest -- and perhaps even helpful -- to the readers of your blog?


ME: Gerry,

To address some of your points;

>Thanks for the cordial reply. I greatly appreciate that.

My pleasure.

>[a] full appreciation of anything includes a feeling of gratitude which is left unsatisfied without a proper object. In short, it seems we find ourselves needing -- or at least wanting -- Someone to thank. Without that, our cup may not be empty -- but it doesn't overflow, either.

You're right of course. Many find themselves yearning for something absolute to be thankful to. It's almost as if this need invokes the notion of god though, don't you think? Just because we have this need doesn't mean there's something there to meet it. Strikes me as rather naive to think that there is.

> Secondly, I think many people are not in a position to face life -- much less enjoy it -- with nothing but the courage that a stark "realism" requires.

Again I find myself agreeing with you, though it depends on what you mean by "stark realism".

I have a friend who describes himself as an "atheist, nihlist & misanthrope". He reads Satre, Schopenhauer and Camus all the time. Unsuprisingly I'm sure he suffers from depression. Personally I think he's looking at things from the wrong angle. Whilst I agree with him that everything is pointless (if you choose to reduce life to the lowest common denominator), I don't suffer from the same bleakness. You see for me, if existence is ultimately pointless, then it's pretty pointless to worry and get down about it. There's so much to appreciate and make sense of in the mean time!

I've spent many years now working with people in late stage dementia - people for whom it could be argued, are in desperate need of spiritual comfort. Yet in my experience, the most effective comfort to be given isn't "higher philosophy" or even worship - it is proximity to other human beings - physical and emotional comfort communicated through smiles, embraces and laughter.

Satre said that "hell is other people". I couldn't disagree more - "heaven" can be found in the other - a very real and immediate 'bliss'. We underestimate ourselves when we argue that these feelings of 'love' have to be something anchored in divinity. Our subjective experience of it (or yearning for it) may overwhelm us, but its basis is biological, even if our self-centred perspectives make it into a gestalt - larger than the sum of its parts.

> guess I took the easy way out! Perhaps God will bless you with a little adversity.

Believe me - I'm no stranger to adversity ;)

>Are you quite sure thoughts like these wouldn't be of interest -- and perhaps even helpful -- to the readers of your blog?

Perhaps.

Cheers, Jamon

GERRY: Jamon,

It seems, then, there's some common ground between us. That's a good thing.

I agree that those in late stage dementia -- and those in lesser troubles, as well -- are more in need of "proximity to other human beings" than abstract philosophical and theological maxims. Though God sometimes comforts me with a mere thought, it works better -- and He knows it -- if the requisite thought is delivered with the butter and honey of human compassion. This is, of course, nothing new. "Pure religion," says James, "is this: to visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction." Or as songwriter Don Francisco admonishes his fellow Christians, "After you stop the bleeding, you can show them the promised land." But I think it's a mistake to believe that compassion alone will do the trick. Your "patients" will again be left with an ultimately unsatisfying cup, not-quite-full.



And I fully agree that Satre is wrong -- hell is definitely not other people. Rather, hell is utter separation from others -- including God. To be left with nothing but one's conscious self is the most terrifying of fates. Words can't do justice to the thought. Even Jesus' authoritative metaphor, "where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched," leaves many unenlightened.



I suspected you were "no stranger to adversity" or you wouldn't be strugging with these issues still. And you certainly wouldn't be writing so politely to someone like me about them! Solomon was right about where most men find wisdom (if they find it at all): "It is better to go to the house of mourning, than to go to the house of feasting: for that is the end of all men; and the living will lay it to his heart." Or, as C. S. Lewis put it, "God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." I'm afraid that if we won't listen to the former, the latter will come upon us, individually and collectively. History reveals such a pattern, y'know...



ME: Hi Gerry,

If there's a common ground between us, then it's in knowing that some people yearn for something more in their lives - your 'full cup' metaphor for God I suppose. I often wonder what it is about life that people find so unfulfilling? Frankly, there is ample to fill my cup in the real world. Perhaps not to the brim, but the last time I overfilled a cup was helping my four year old fill a glass of milk. There's something about maturing into adulthood that allows one to appreciate ambivalence and that little in life is absolutely perfect. There is a beauty in this I think, and one that would be diluted in a nirvana such as heaven.

In short, life is good enough for me thankyouverymuch! I have no need or want for God to make it perfect!

>I suspected you were "no stranger to adversity" or you wouldn't be strugging with these issues still.

I wouldn't say I'm struggling with these issues firsthand Gerry, as I'd come to terms with my own existentialism some time back. This Sans God project, isn't to explore my own lack of faith per-se, it is to explore why other people 'fail' to come to the logical conclusion of strong agnosticism. This issue I'll admit to struggling with, as I find the god argument utterly non-sequitor and don't comprehend why people would choose 'delude' themselves as Dawkins would say.

You said it yourself - "To be left with nothing but one's conscious self is the most terrifying of fates. Words can't do justice to the thought." - this is the very point I made in my previous e-mail. For some, this existential notion is so unbearable (be it conscious or otherwise) that God is invoked as a balm to the spirit.

Drowning is the most terrifying of fates for me. Words can't do justice to the thought. That doesn't mean I can breathe under water does it?

>I can confidently say that whenever I've been possessed by a persistent, undeniable, and legitimate craving, there has been something in the world apparently designed to satisfy it.

Now, I'm assuming you agree with the basis of Darwinian evolution, yes? Then you will appreciate that it's no coincidence that organisms that have evolved on Earth have adapted to its resources?

>I have found, for example, readily available satisfactions for such diverse cravings as thirst, hunger, clothing, shelter, warmth, light, cleanliness, work, play, sleep, sexual desires;

Let's say we live on the deep sea bed and had evolved to metabolise the sulphur that volcanic plumes excrete. It would come as no surprise to find our home was abundant with the resources we require. It might even seem to us that someone had put them there deliberately...

In short, I think your cart is before your horse.

Anyway, on matters of faith (or lack of), language seems so inadequate to me. I suspect we could debate this tit for tat ad-infinitum! Nonetheless, I've found it interesting.

Many Thanks, Jamon

Soft Play

If there's one thing I'm certain of, then it's that people who are certain about things unnerve me. Those that would purport to grasp the absolutes of good / evil, beauty / dissonance or right / wrong are, in my view, quite tiresome and in some cases profoundly dangerous.

To put it more simply - they get on my tits.

Which begs the question - why do I describe myself as Atheist - that absolute position of godlessness, rather than agnostic?

Well, I'm agnostic of gods in the same way I'm agnostic of triangles with four angles. I'm also agnostic that the sun may not rise tomorrow morning. Considering the evidence however, I don't think they're eventualities worth preparing our children for.

God may very well come down to earth in his fiery chariot, beard all tangled by the wind and smite the faithless with his thunderbolts.

If he does, I plan on saying "Well, bugger me" just before getting zapped.

So technically you could call me Agnostic. But for all intents and purposes, my position is indistinguishable from Atheism.

Also if I'm honest, I don't like the term Agnostic. It's a soft bellied, limp excuse for a word and one that I'd rather not be labelled with.

Agnosticism is a continuum, not a position, as it can imply someone ready to take Pascal's Wager and believe in God, through to someone like me - pretty much the Atheist. This is why religious people find the word 'Agnostic' so much more palatable I think, as 'Atheist' has so many angles that it's difficult to swallow. Whereas Agnostic slips down just nice.

So, amongst friends I may call myself agnostic, but in public I'll remain atheist. I'd rather people understood my position than be cushioned from it by a soft, cuddly word.

No such thing as a canon

I must say, I admire Jonathan Sacks - the chief Rabbi of the UK's Orthodox Synagogues. He's an intelligent and forthright speaker on national culture. Amongst his religious counterparts, he's the most erudite I think.

It goes without saying that I disagree with him on some fundamental points, however, my ears perk up when he's wheeled into Radio 4 as the religious pundit. Also, I take the time to read what he has to say in the press. He writes well and often makes me think.

Which says something about him perhaps...

His latest article in The Times however, has rather stuck in my craw. I expected more from him frankly. The piece, in my view, is nothing more than a middle class, middle aged diatribe of modern culture and all of its 'ills'. He has an obvious problem with multiculturalism, moral relativism and the democratisation of information that our digital age has provided for us.

I urge you to read it first, as he is a superb writer and thinker. Way beyond my amateur attempts... However, let me outline why he's pissed me off;

"Multiculturalism has run its course, and it is time to move on. It was a fine, even noble idea in its time. It was designed to make ethnic and religious minorities feel more at home, more appreciated and respected, and therefore better able to mesh with the larger society. It affirmed their culture. It gave dignity to difference."

" But there has been a price to pay, and it grows year by year. Multiculturalism has led not to integration but to segregation."

No, the multiculturalist policy of the UK has led to the largest natural influx of migrants in modern times. These migrants, by and large, contribute positively to our economy and culture, as they always have. Of course there are pockets of separatism where cultures do not mix. We read stories each day of racist crimes and discrimination. What we rarely read about however, is how the vast majority of us rub along quite nicely thankyouverymuch.

This got my shackles up immediately;

"But there was something else happening at the same time, of great consequence: the slow demise of morality itself, conceived as the moral bond linking individuals in the shared project of society."

In every age of humanity, there have been naysayers decrying the moral decline of decadent society. Even in the age of Plato. What makes Jonathan think there's a dangerous decline? I'll tell you - it's the decline of Judeo-Christian morality in modern culture, that's what.

"In 1961, suicide ceased to be a crime. This might seem a minor and obviously humane measure, but it was the beginning of the end of England as a Christian country; that is, one in which Christian ethics was reflected in law."

Damned right too, why should "Christian" ethics be the supreme moral order? I'm afraid Mr Sachs, you're simply afraid that the establishment you belong to is loosing its power upon us.

And so, he lets slip his moral absolutist sentiments;

"If there is no agreed moral truth, we cannot reason together. All truth becomes subjective or relative, no more than a construction, a narrative, one way among many of telling the story."

Ok, and the alternative is what? That we subscribe to an ultimate moral authority, formulated some two thousand years ago, in a culture where stoning was considered acceptable? Now I know that Judeo-Christian morality has developed, yet at its roots is the immutable, immovable truth of "God".

If morality comes down to a simple right or wrong, then how in the world are we to reason with one and other? I can only reason with you if we have an agreed moral truth? Surely not. How, if morality is relative, does this inhibit reasoned debate? Quite the opposite I say - if we appreciate that our own personal or cultural moralities are only understandable in how they're relative to another, then, and only then, can true 'empathy' occur.

"Right or wrong, one thing is clear: the new tolerance is far less permissive than the old intolerance."

Eh?

" Ours is a transitional age, as revolutionary as the move from agriculture to industry. The growth of computing, the internet and satellite television will change life as much as any epoch-making development in the past."

Now he's making some sense.

"With the new technologies the idea of an autonomous national culture disintegrates. Until recently, national cultures were predicated on the idea of a canon, a set of texts that everyone knew. In the case of Britain they included the Bible, Shakespeare and the great novels. The existence of a canon is essential to a culture. It means that people share a set of references and resonances, a public vocabulary of narratives and discourse. Until the early 1950s a politician could quote the Bible and expect people to know what he was alluding to. No longer."

Now, this is where he really began to piss me off.

His notion of a 'canon' of text in which a nation shares its understanding is nothing more than a delusion of the ruling classes. Frankly, for time immemorial, the masses have not given two flying fucks about Shakespeare, the bible and the great novels.

Culture is what it is, and has always been - The masses consume what is palletable and easy to digest, whilst the ruling classes bleat on about culture and "required reading". This shared canon of morality existed only within a small section of society. The only difference today is that the culture of the masses is more visible than it's ever been, what with the TV, radio and the wonderful Internet.

Mr Sach's article reflects I think, the fear of the ruling classes of loosing their control over us, the masses. A canon? There has never been, nor will there ever be, a true canon of morality and culture.

Moral absolutes have got us so far. Now is the time that we discard them, for they limit our growth as a society. Contrary to the belief of Mr Sachs et al, we live in the most peaceful and tolerant times that human kind has ever enjoyed. Things are not getting worse. Mostly things are on the up.

Rant over.

What's the point?

No matter how hard I try, I can discern no ultimate purpose to the universe, life, or anything for that matter. That's not to say I don't find life purposeful mind.

I'm a purposeful monkey, me.

A universal purpose is rather like this optical illusion. Our brains swear that there's two triangles, yet when we study it, we logically conclude there's only one. Yet we can't 'un see' the second.

We've evolved to intuitively assume a purpose to our lives. At its basis is the need to breathe. Though I'm convinced Bush's autocue tells him to "Breath in, breath out"...

The urge to continue living is primordial. To breathe, eat and procreate are our primary, instinctive motivations. It takes little imagination for me, to see how these urges are sublimated into an assumption that there's a purpose outwith our own, selfish needs.

It's like an itch that won't go away. Like the triangle that insists on being seen, we've evolved to expect a higher purpose. Perhaps even to expect a god.

I suppose believing in this 'higher realm' is rather childlike. Now, I don't mean to patronise people who believe, rather, I attribute child like belief in the Transactional Analysis or Psychodynamic modes. We all have elements of the child within us.

Imagine a lost kid in the supermarket, terrified that he can't find his mother. Rather than go look for her, he lies on the floor, curls into a ball and cries. He's helpless and without direction. He needs his mother to tell him what to do.

As adults we're no different. We all need external guidance I think. I certainly do.

However, as uncomfortable as it is, I'm drawn to look at the triangle, so that I can work out for myself the truth of the matter.

We're alone and lost. Each and every one of us. So let's stick together, eh?

Rama and Adam meet on the bridge

Rama, our original king, ruled all of us for eleven thousand years. He presided over an era of perfect happiness, peace and prosperity. How I the miss the Rama Rajya.

Before Rama became the seventh avatar of Vishnu, he built a bridge between India and Sri Lanka where his wife was being held in exile by the evil king Ravana.

Monkeys helped him build it. They were known for their engineering aptitude in those times. He then rescued his wife and returned to India to take his rightful place as our lord.

It was quite a feat. Thirty miles of sandbank, rock and coral reef had to be constructed to bridge the gap between these two great countries. They don't build stuff like that these days. It's lasted thousands, perhaps millions of years right up until today.

Now Adam, not long after he was chucked out of Eden, used this very same bridge to get to the mountain Sri Pada to stand atop of it for a thousand years. He felt a bit guilty for eating the apple, according to the Koran.

Adam and Rama most probably met whilst crossing the bridge. They would have been struck by their similarities. Perhaps they were cut from the same cloth...

So, how dare these modern, capitalist pigs even consider cutting a channel through Rama's and Adam's bridge. How dare they!

The heathen Archaeological Survey of India submitted a report to the Indian supreme court that deigned to suggest that Rama's bridge is just mythology! Now I for one, am behind those that demonstrated against this blasphemy and am delighted that they have withdrawn this outrageous report from the hearing.

The truth will out. Vishnu will be reborn and monkeys will rebuild the world.

Meg and the magic tooth

Excuse the radio silence if you will - the past few days have been a frantic blur of family life. What with school fetes, roundabouts and face paints, trampolining, tantrums and toilets, I've hardly had a moment to think.

It hasn't stopped yet. Right now I'm waiting for Meg to fall asleep so that I can sneak up into her bedroom to replace her first baby tooth with a suitable trinket. I thought I'd use this brief window of opportunity to blog about it.

These are moments worth marking you see. Not just for the fact that she's lost her first tooth, cute as it is, but for the realisation that she's growing up.

Tonight before bed we played in the back garden. Meg watered the sunflower that she's grown from seed. It's taller than she is now so I had to lift her up so that she could see its flower blossom.

"Dad, why do flowers grow?" She asked as she poked at the bud.

"Well," I said "flowers help plants make new seeds so that they can have baby plants."

"Cool! Can we plant them next year then?"

"Yup, as long as you take care of this one so that it gets big enough to make its own...watch it Meg!"

And she was off, wriggling out of my arms like a fish - she nearly crippled the plant with her elbow. She was away to work out how to jump faster with her new skipping rope.

These brief moments of naive inquiry are nothing but magic for me, as they sow the seeds of my childrens' future happiness. Their questions, questions and questions are the stuff of life I think. Many of which I can answer right now, some of which I can't.

Yet there will come the time, if we execute our parental duties well enough, that the ultimate questions will arrive;

"Dad, why are we here?" or "Mum who is God?"

Now, we have no intention of raising our kids as little atheists. To do so would be as closed minded as the most fundamental of theists. They will not know of our beliefs until we feel they are ready. No, we shall do our utmost to nurture their enquiring instincts so that they may fly upon the path of their own logic, wherever it may take them.

Which is good I think, because this evening we filled Meg's head full of magic. Tonight the tooth fairy will fly down through our chimney pot, up our stairs and under Meg's door just to kiss her on the forehead. She'll leave a present in Meg's little box and take the tooth to make fairy dust with.

Anyway, I think she's asleep now, so if you'll excuse me, I'm off upstairs...

Evolve or Die

So we've been to the Discovery Museum. Came across this book in the shop. Kind of fitting for the occasion. Don't you think?

A minute silence please

16:00 GMT marks the opening of the Creation Museum. It is a sad day indeed. I propose a minute silence, so that we may all remember the young minds that are withered and imprisoned within the lies that it represents.

As to my own small protest, I will be taking my children to the Discovery Museum today. A place devoted to learning, history and science.

This is Dominic enjoying his last visit.

Hope for us yet

Isn't it interesting, that whilst the populace of Turkey ranks bottom in declared belief in evolution, hundreds of thousands of people rally in support of secularism.

Hat tip to the Atheist Jew who came top in my search for the table below.

Dawkins on CNN

It seems that CNN have responded to pressure and attempted to balance the debate. I haven't watched it yet (at work so only have a minute). Looking forward to seeing it tonight.

We need more fundamentalists

Is it right for the atheist community to ridicule creationists? What right do we have, other than our own 'truths', to rail against them and argue that religious fundamentalism is wrong headed?

Of course, we have the benefit of overwhelming evidence. We can even argue the moral high ground, given past abuses in the name of their Gods. And let's not forget that they ridicule us. An eye for an eye I suppose, to quote the vernacular.

It doesn't stop me feeling uneasy about it. After all, they are such easy targets. When it comes to religion, fundamentalists offer us low hanging fruit. A cheap thrill if you like. It takes little effort to debunk their odd theories on the speed of light, dinosaurs and such like. I almost feel like a bully.

As with most extreme positions, creationism is believed only by a minority, a growing one I grant you, but I'm sure that the vast majority of the religious remain sympathetic to Darwin.

Perhaps then, the moderate religious should be more of a concern to active atheists than extremophiles? After all, this is where the real sea change can be made. As any politician will tell you, the struggle is over the floating voter.

In my view, the vast majority of people who call themselves religious give their belief little thought. Why should they? Frankly, people have better things to be getting on with. Most people opt for the path of least resistance.

It's easier to adopt the belief systems of our communities and parents. In conforming to majority beliefs, we open more doors than we do by questioning them. So, should members of the atheist community (who wish to change peoples' beliefs), shift their attention to moderates? I would argue not.

The problem is, debate amongst moderates makes for poor headlines. It only gets noticed by those with an active interest in the topic. Whereas arguments between extreme points of view piques the interest of the masses. If only to laugh and poke fun at the oddballs on both sides of the debate.

We need religious fundamentalists, as much as they need us. Vapid, overly dramatic debates entertain people.

That's the trick of good entertainment; To change peoples attitudes and beliefs without them even realising that they've been educated.

The sad fact of the matter is - the group that will end up prevailing in this struggle for hearts and minds will be the one that's most entertaining and colorful.

Bring on the fundies...

For once, I am outraged

The atheist community is in a bit of a tizzy about this CNN broadcast. I laughed the first time I saw it. It is after all, an absurd conversation held between ill informed dimwits.

The more I've thought about it however, the more irked I've become. These people have every right to express their opinion about atheism. Even if I think they're wrong in a myriad of ways. What upsets me is the blatant lack of editorial judgement CNN have shown in presenting this one sided debate to the entire world. Not just North America - the "one nation under God".

My spirits have been lifted no end as I bear witness to the outrage, directed in no small measure to CNN from the Atheist community.

We tolerant moderates have been criticised in the past for allowing this kind of bigotry to go unchallenged. It's a fair point in some respects. Imagine our world if no one had stood up and railed against racism, sexism or homophobia. So, I've sent my outraged missive to the network.

There's a rumor that Richard Dawkins will be speaking on CNN tonight to redress the balance. I sincerely hope this is the case.

Beyond Belief

If you're so minded, here's a real media stream of a Radio 4 Beyond Belief episode on 'religion and mental health'. It's half an hour long so, for those of you with Digg enhanced ADHD the second half is much more interesting than the first.

It's a fascinating and balanced debate about the nature of religion and spiritual belief in a secular / medicalised world. I urge you to listen, as it's a good antidote to the raging fundamentalism (both theist and non-theist) currently clogging up Youtube and the bloggosphere.

(Did I just say bloggosphere? /Shudder )

A Common Man

We live in the North-East of England. Northumberland to be precise. And a wonderful place to live it is. Primarily rural, it's full of awesome scenery, mountains and vacant lengthy beaches. There's no cities as such; the nearest big conurbation is Newcastle-upon-Tyne.

The village we live in is large enough to have the infrastructure we need to live well as a family; good schools, shops, pubs and a few tasty restaurants. You could call it a small town I suppose.

In living here, I gain pleasure from walking around, secure in the knowledge that I'll pass people whom I know, and who know me. We share pleasantries and gossip. If we visit our local hostelries at night, we know that our evenings will be full of the chatter of friends and acquaintances.

Much of Northumberland is like this.

Perhaps some would balk at this parochial existence. Supposing it breeds small mindedness and conservatism. Which it does of course. However, since the decline of heavy engineering, the region has suffered an economic blight from which it's only beginning to recover. Consequently, incomes are relatively low and for many, their perceived quality of life is poor.

This struggle to live well, and the received culture of 'Northerners' (friendly, straight forward and generous) counterbalances this parochialism in my view; it leads to quite cohesive communities.

The real economic powerhouse of England is the South-East, specifically London. Here incomes are higher. As is 'quality of life', apparently. Proportionally to the North-East, inhabitants have larger disposal incomes and equity enough to afford beefy mortgages, Algarve holidays and Chelsea Tractors.

However, by and large, they are time poor. It's said that people in the South live to work, whereas in the North people work to live. Of course, this is a blunt simplification, but it illustrates the points I'm coming to eventually, honest.

I've cause to visit the South-East from time to time. When I do I'm always struck by the differences in conversation. My southern family and friends talk so much more about their houses, investment opportunities, interest rates and new cars.

As a northern friend once said, "Even if I had two barge poles (about ten feet), and taped them together, I still wouldn't touch the city life."

Mind you, I'll admit to buying into this smugness a bit. I have a lovely big, black, family sized car. Tell me, how big is yours?

Anyway, to my point;

Some would say that society is being strangled by the tightening grip of secularism. As a result it's becoming increasingly cynical and impersonal.

Personally I think this is a correlation, not a causation. This depersonalisation of life is more a result of social groups growing so large that the notion of the common man has become abstracted. Success and happiness are now largely defined by the amount of plastic and metal we collect around us.

Perhaps we should take some advice from Kafka; “I do not read advertisements - I would spend all my time wanting things”.

Data Vomitarium

Frequently I'm astounded by how little I know. By way of our miraculous Internet tubes, novel facts and fictions pour into my head. Some of them lodge in dark corners, but most of them simply drip through the many holes in my intellect.

I've developed an insatiable appetite for information and feel diffuse anxiety when not jacked in to RSS, Digg and Google. An addict you may say. But facts and figures only represent part of our reality. How we understand, synthesise and use them is far more important.

I admire clear thinkers, lacking as I am in this department. A truly awesome example of this is the Atheist Ethicist. I urge you to leave this blog now and go read it...

Go on then, off you go.....I'll see you there.

A reintroduction

Vjack over at Atheist Revolution asks how to define spirituality Sans God and why we, as atheists should pursue it. He reads quite accurately that this blog is about 'finding spirituality in a godless world'.

In formulating my answer(s) to this interesting question perhaps we should revisit the original goal of this blog.

I'm a mental health professional who works with people who are labelled as having 'severe and enduring' mental health problems. Increasingly in this arena, 'spiritual well being' is being focused upon as a crucial component of good mental health.

Perhaps predictably, many of us in this field struggle to understand what this means, let alone help people in poor mental health improve their spiritual well being. Repeatedly we fall back upon typecast notions of spirituality e.g. Religious denomination and rituals.

A part of me wonders whether this nascent spiritual uprising in psychiatry is merely a smoke screen behind which the old, repressive practices continue unabated. By this I mean the repression of 'schizophrenics' through medication, legislation, misunderstanding and public loathing.

Another part of me feels (quite strongly) that this is an opportunity to be capitalised upon. If we can use this chink in the armour of established psychiatric practice to highlight the human and social aspects of mental illness then the term will be well used.

The UK is largely secular. In my personal experience at least. Actively religious people are in the minority here. This seems to be an inverse reflection of the US experience. I must admit to being quite taken aback by the depth of Christian fundamentalism in the US, having only experienced it in any detail after starting this blog and taking an active interest in the topic of atheism.

I'm thankful for this. Thankful that the church and state are well separated (notwithstanding the Blarite spinned Sunday morning phot-ops). That said, I do feel that the western world is caught in a vicious existential crisis whilst it readjusts to its godless world. I feel that as a society we're missing something fundamental, some meaning that was conveniently provided by religion.

Not all of us are able to cope with the notion that meaning and purpose can only be created subjectively. Frankly, few of us have the capacity, time or motivation to explore this philosophical aspect to our lives. Which is why many of us godless people resort to 'kabalah lite, aromatherapy and self-help.'

Atheism, isn't good enough then. It isn't nourishing enough to the masses to be sufficient in and of itself. In my view, to have a grasp of our human, emotional experience we need to put empiricism to one side. Suspend disbelief if you like. We should feel comfortable that much of our lives are metaphorical and aesthetic and beyond the reach, for the time being at least, of pure logic and science.

This, I guess is where the term spirituality should sit for an atheist. Between bleak empiricism and illogical belief. It's a concept that we can choose to use if we so wish, to help us think about relationships, altruism, love and meaning without getting tied up in philosophical knots all the time. Yes it's a short cut, but one I'm willing to take if it means I might be able to ease the suffering of another person for a while.

A banana fingered God

Came across this wonderful clip that was posted originally on viewfromearth . Surely it's a spoof, made me laugh heartily though.

I imagine a tribesman, isolated from the rest of civilisation meeting this nutball and asking him "What's that?"

Nutjob - "It's a banana; A sign of God"

Tribesman - "What do you think I should do with it then? Shove it up me arse?"

Meaningless?

So, the universe is huge, random and arbitrary. Our place in it is completely insignificant if you think about it. The planets will keep orbiting, and the stars will continue to shine irrespective of whether we're here or not. Inevitably we'll die, hopefully we'll be mourned and missed briefly by a few, but ultimately, our legacies will fade into nothing at all.

Christ, Existentialism is bleak. But no matter how hard I try, I keep returning to it as the only valid way to understand our world. Deep thought was wrong when it worked out the 'Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything'. It's not 42. It's 0, zero, nothing, nada.

So why doesn't the human race collectively lie down in the foetal position and gently wink out of existence, unnoticed by the universe spinning on by?

When I think about it, I guess this is what this blog is all about; Answering the impossible questions like - Why do we still struggle for purpose and meaning in a world that, when deconstructed is ultimately arbitrary and pointless?

I'm pretty confident that my thinking is flawed and imperfect but, for what its worth here are some of my thoughts about why this might be the case.

This 'struggle' is an inheritance from our evolutionary history that goes all the way back to the first single cell organisms. Life for these creatures was simple. Stay alive, reproduce. A clear purpose then, and one that is all consuming. Take your eye (if you've evolved one) off the ball for a second and you're eaten or destroyed. The notion of "why" didn't exist, if it did, then the answer would be 'because'.

Four billion years later this is still the case for all life on the planet. Except for us humans.

We transcended these immediate and violent needs when we started to form complex society. In doing so we had some time to sit and use our newly developed languages to explore abstract ideas with one and other. We started to ask "why?" For the whole of our evolutionary history we'd had one, simple "why"; Stay alive, reproduce. Now, the true nature of this bleak universe was revealed to us. Bewildered and terrified by this existential insight we filled this "void of meaning" with Gods. Vengeful Gods probably, who reflected the cruel and random world we'd been used to living in. But at least these gods gave us our purpose.

Over millenia these spiritual ideas were developed and woven into the very fabric of our society. We grew benevolent Gods who reflected the softer life we had made for ourselves. They continued to give us purpose, codes to live by and answers to our fundamental questions.

Socrates buggered it all up for us. What with his critical thinking and all.

The problem we have now is that we've grown beyond the need for Gods. With the advance of the scientific critical thinking (thanks to Socrates), we can find no evidence of God. We cannot reproduce God in randomised control trials.

In a cruel twist of irony however, those of us in the developed world have never been in more need of a God. For the vast majority of us life is no real struggle. Calories come cheap, and we need to burn very few of them to get more. A drive to the supermarket is all that's required. Our established democracies tax us heavily, but they provide all the infrastructure we need to give only a passing thought to drinking freshwater, staying warm, clean and dry and being entertained.

In reality we don't need to try hard for anything at all. Our well developed social security systems will take care of our basic needs for us if we can't be bothered to meet them ourselves.

The last time we had to live without a god we had a purpose; Stay alive, Reproduce. This time however we have no god, and no real purpose.

I'm going to leave it here, on this optimistic point, for tonight. Tomorrow I'll try to build on these ideas a little more, and explain why ultimately they lifts my spirits.

Update: Link to second post mentioned above.