The figure of the village atheist is a rather comic one. He proves his superior intelligence by mocking the sheeplike conformity of the poor benighted believers. The old word “enlightened” has now been replaced by the word “bright” as the self-description of this sort of atheist. He is a variant of the “Cliffie the mailman” wonk who knows it all, or Sportin’ Life the cynic in Porgy and Bess. An older version is Flaubert’s character Homais the bourgeois anticlerical pharmacist in Madame Bovary, and an even older one is Thersites the scurrilous doubter in Shakespeare and Homer. Much pleased by their own originality, they take their mishaps as the martyrdom of the bold intellectual pioneer, and they have produced a group of arguments that should probably be taken apart.
One is that religious ideology is a unique inspirer of terrible wars. In the current perspective, such an opinion sounds plausible. But anyone with an historical sense will recognize that the few hundred people who die each month in religious conflicts are absurdly dwarfed by the tens of millions, almost all of them religious believers, who died, within living memory, under the savage atheistic regimes of Hitler, Stalin, Mao Zedong and the various dialectical materialist dictators of eastern Europe. We have seen what atheism looks like on the large scale, and it is not pretty: the Holocaust, the Gulag, the Cultural Revolution, the Killing Fields. Religion has indeed been a cause of appalling slaughter during the course of human history; but it must take fifth place behind atheist ideology, nation-state aggression, mercantile colonialist expansion, and tribal war in the carnage sweepstakes.
Another argument brought by the village atheist type is that to base one’s life on faith is intellectual suicide. This argument might be persuasive if there were any alternative, but there is not. Reason is not a basis for thought, but a method of thought. Kurt G
And remains appropriately obdurate in her continuing skepticism:
The most important characteristics of the Christian God, as I understand them, are his love of man and his justice. If one were to posit a god who is capricious, ironic, absent-minded, depraved, or completely unknowable, I
In today’s Wall Street Journal, “The Fertility Gap” between Democrats and Republicans is analyzed:
According to the 2004 General Social Survey, if you picked 100 unrelated, politically liberal adults at random, you would find that they had, between them, 147 children. If you picked 100 conservatives, you would find 208 kids. That’s a “fertility gap” of 41%. Given the fact that about 80% of people with an identifiable party preference grow up to vote the same way as their parents, this gap translates into lots more little Republicans than little Democrats to vote in future elections.
…what’s the best term to refer both to agnostics and atheists? “Faithless” seems too negative, “bright” too propagandistic. Do agnostics and atheists consider “unbeliever” better than “non-believer,” or vice-versa? When I was agnostic, I didn’t take my own unbelief seriously enough to consider this question.
I’ve never given much thought to the matter, but if one insists on lumping both into the same category, I’d say that “non-theists” seems both accurate and non-pejorative (other than to those to whom not believing in God is an intrinsically bad thing…).
But I think that the distinction between atheists and skeptics is important. The former (based on my experience with them) are as devout, or (actually) more devout, than most theists. They fervently believe (unprovably) that there is no God, and will proselytize endlessly to convert others to their belief. I have no belief, one way or the other, and it would never occur to me to (futilely) attempt to persuade a believer, of either faith, one way or the other.
…in this post, I see that I need to write an essay titled “Why Diogenes‘ Search Is Futile, And Why It Doesn’t Matter.”
So much to do, so little time. And I should note, that the man himself knew that his search was futile. Of course, some will inevitably argue that this fable is more about human nature than about whether or not truth exists. And they may be right.
There are more persuasive games to be played in order demonstrate that there is truth out there (think science, math, Irish whiskey). But Matt isn’t saying (I assume) that there isn’t any such thing as truth, he’s saying he doesn’t believe in moral truth.
Well, actually, the science and math aren’t examples of truth, either (I can’t speak to Irish whiskey, though I suspect that Goedel would shoot that one down as well). No, sorry, there is no absolute truth of any kind, moral or otherwise, sad to say. Scientific truth is so only in the context of science. If you don’t accept the premises of science, or the postulates of math, then there’s no truth to be found there, either. It’s a cruel world for conservatives.
That doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t defend our civilization from barbarous misogynistic Islamonutballs, though.