Faithless

On that other forum that I frequent, I’ve been participating in a thread about atheism and god and the nature of faith. I used to participate in these discussions all the time, writing long, involved posts and relishing the debate. But eventually, I realized that it really was pointless. While I never really thought I’d convince anyone, I did think we’d at least begin to understand each other. But that never happened – the myths about atheists persisted (“Atheists are nihilists who believe life is meaningless, and there’s nothing to rein in their evil impulses to lie, steal, cheat, rape, and kill!!!”), and the same tired arguments were trotted out (“If believers are wrong, nothing happens, but if atheists are wrong, they’ll pay for it, so it’s just wiser to bet on theism,” and “How can you not see God in the world around you?”).

But this time of year always makes me reflect on matters of faith and mythology, not because of the Jesus thing, which I have virtually no exposure to or interest in, but because of the Santa thing. We told the squeaker all about Santa and his reindeer. We waved at Santa in the mall. We listened for reindeer hooves as we fell asleep. (The first thing a sad little squeaker said on Christmas morning was that he didn’t think Santa had visited, because he never heard his reindeer on the roof.) Though I know some parents are uncomfortable about the Santa myth, it doesn’t bother me for the same reasons that Her Bad Mother so articulately discussed in this post. To me, Santa has little to do with a literal man in a red suit, but everything to do with magic, anticipation, and hope, as well as generosity. I trust that the squeaker will sort it all out in time, just as I did. I suppose I see the whole thing as a testament to the value of myth.

But here’s where I really get to thinking: if I can value myth, whether it’s for the lessons they teach or for the deeper values they illustrate, why don’t I value faith? In the discussion on this forum I mentioned, someone argued that theism and atheism are really two sides of the same coin, because they are both based on faith – meaning unproven beliefs.

I always find the argument that atheism is faith-based an irritating one. The notion that atheism is based on faith would be like saying that the "innocent until proven guilty" approach of our justice system bases that innocence on faith. In fact, it does not. It bases it on the absence of evidence (until any evidence is offered and evaluated at trial). Similarly, most people do not believe in the tooth fairy, the Loch Ness monster, or Bigfoot. We don't refer to these non-beliefs as "faith-based," and we don't consider the mass of people who reject belief in these creatures to be of a particular religion based on that rejection. These "non-beliefs" are based on an evaluation of available evidence, as is atheism.

The whole orientation of theists and atheists is different, because atheists take an evidence-based approach, and theists take a faith-based approach. Efforts to paint atheists as faith-based are usually spearheaded by believers who want to be able to say, "See, atheist? You don't really know, either. You have your faith, and I have mine." By setting them side by side as parallel with equal validity, the believer can dismiss the atheist perspective as merely a kind of misguided faith.

But to do so fundamentally misunderstands atheism. Unlike theism, atheism is not about holding a belief that is entirely removed from the realm of evidence analysis. Instead, analysis of evidence is at its core. Atheism is all about reason and evidentiary analysis. It's also not about "knowing." Atheism is an inherently tentative conclusion, again, based on available evidence. In contrast, religious faith is entirely removed from reason and evidentiary analysis. And while some atheists point to that feature as the weakness of theism, I think it's its most essential strength. Of course religious faith is not based on evidentiary analysis and reason. That's why it's FAITH.

That's why believers never have to get into tedious arguments about proving the existence of God, or demonstrating why the whole God concept isn't really illogical, or showing that prayer works. They don't have to "prove" anything. That's the beauty and power of faith (from an outsider's perspective). They believe regardless of what reason or logic or "evidence" tells them, because they don't think an evidentiary-based analysis is the only meaningful or valuable approach to understanding the universe. This is completely different from the mindset of the atheist, who does not value a deliberative process that sets aside the evidentiary approach.

Now, some believers argue that this attachment and adherence to the evidentiary approach is a kind of "faith." Again, I'd say that using the word faith is this broad way -- to apply not only to beliefs held regardless of the evidence, but also to the broader notion that any perspective on the role of evidence reflects a kind of faith -- stretches the word so much that it is rendered meaningless. It strives to place both the evidentiary approach and the faith based approach under one big umbrella by saying they both involve faith because the person is making some choice about how much value evidence has in evaluating these cosmic questions. And I just don't think that's a useful way of constructing the argument. Again, it typically seems motivated by a desire to undermine atheism by treating it as a faith-based belief with no more validity than any other faith-based belief.

But the believer doesn't have to take this route of tortured logic to dismiss atheism. The believer only needs to recognize that the whole of faith is separate and removed from the realm of evidentiary analysis, and that while the atheist only values the latter, the believer values both and chooses which to apply based on the question at hand. (The believer may apply evidentiary analysis to all issues that do not involves religious issues, and the faith-based approach to all religious issues.)

To the atheist this approach is a puzzling way of thinking, marked by inconsistency and arbitrariness. But that is because the atheist does not value the faith-based approach. That the atheist does not value it does not mean that it is not valuable (to others). People simply choose to value different things. The events of our lives cause us to perpetually reevaluate what we value, so I think it is always useful to discuss, debate, and even challenge the value of every approach. And while I do not value faith, I strive to understand people who do, because I think that's an important part of understanding my fellow human beings.

Nonetheless, I wonder why it is that I don’t value faith. I was raised in a non-religious household by non-believing parents, so that clearly is a factor. But I think there is more to it than that, because the children of other non-believing parents sometimes choose faith. First, I can’t shake my reason/logic framework. The whole god thing is just so nonsensical to me. I don’t think I could accept it even if I really wanted to. Second, faith holds no appeal to me. To the contrary, it kind of gives me the willies. It seems a little creepy to have this whole realm of ideas disconnected from reason and logic, and to give these ideas the heft of divinity. Yikes.

It’s not that I can’t see some advantages to faith – it certainly provides comfort and hope to those in need, and it helps some people make sense of the universe. But I can’t see how the advantages overcome the general creepiness of faith.

More Squeaker Questions

Where do polar bears sleep?

Are there wild llamas?

Why is there just a piece of the moon on some nights, when on other nights, the moon is round?

Why can't we fly in an airplane to Australia right now?

OK, if Australia is too far, can we fly to IKEA instead?

X-mas Loot

We were careful not to buy the squeaker too much for x-mas. We didn't want to overwhelm him, and we don't want to establish a holiday tradition that will break the budget every year.

Still, now we know that we could have filled his stocking and stopped there. Pleased with his toy animals, including a longed-for elasmosaurus, he wasn't interested in opening any of the gifts under the tree. Under enormous pressure from mama and papa, who were trying to hurry things along so that we'd make it to the grandparents' home in time, the squeaker reluctantly opened a gift or two. But then he want back to his elasmosaurus.

Further efforts to coax, cajole, and persuade were met with indignant insistence on playing with the elasmosaurus. Finally, he told us, "I'm busy. You guys can open my presents."

Now that they're all open, he seems interested in all of them. But the elasmosaurus is #1, and mama and papa have learned once again that less is more in such circumstances.

Meltdown

I think maybe this is the funniest squeaker quote ever. The squeaker was beginning to launch into a full-fledged tantrum about something, so he was squeaking a bit.

"Stop fussing!" I said. Or maybe I shouted. Loudly.

He glowered at me for a moment, and then cried fiercely, "I'm having a meltdown!!!!"

I laughed until I cried. Really.

To Bee or Not to Bee

The squeaker and I found a bee in the house. Actually, the squeaker found it and yelled, "A bee! A bee!"

We scooped it up and placed it on a bush outside, but several hours later, it was still there. I told the squeaker it was dying. He was surprisingly interested in dying.

"Does dying hurt?" he asked.

"I don't know," I told him.

"Is dying like a really bad boo boo?"

"Yes, sort of."

"We should take the bee to the hospital."

"It's OK. Everything dies."

"Do cars die?"

"OK, all living things die. Cars aren't alive."

"Why not?"

"They just aren't. They don't eat or breathe or grow."

"OK."

Sheesh. I didn't think things would get so...metaphysical at this age! I thought I had at least until he was 4 or 5...

Being Humans

On a forum that I frequent, one poster noted that he read on abc.com that Harvard University is going to have a required course for freshmen on what it means to be human. The poster asked what components we would include. I thought it was a great question, and I thought of 10 elements:

1) watching the film Baraka;
2) reading the great Camus novel, The Plague;
3) reading the creation stories of at least 5 religions (including the major ones);
4) reading one book about the basics of human evolution, with particular emphasis on the emergence of human culture (a good film could substitute);
5) interviewing an elderly person about his or her life experiences;
6) spending an afternoon with a small child;
7) visiting the Holocaust museum;
8) visiting an art museum or attending a music concert or symphony;
9) researching and comparing one aspect of American culture with that aspect of a foreign culture;
10) donating a certain number of hours to a program for the disadvantaged or poor.

What would you include?

Discovery Institute's Pathetic Strike Back

Idiots at the Discovery Institute's Center for Science and Culture have released a statement criticizing last year's ruling from Judge John Jones on the teaching of intelligent design. Their complaint is that substantial portions of the decision were copied from the ACLU's proposed "Findings of Fact and Conclusions of Law."

Well, um...yes, that's why the parties submit proposed Findings of Fact and Conclusions of Law -- so that the judge can adopt them. Had the school board made the more compelling case, the judge would have adopted their findings. Trying to discredit the opinion by suggesting that the ACLU somehow wrested decision-making authority from the judge, or that the judge didn't do his job, is sneaky and underhanded. It's an effort to take advantage of the average's lay person's unawareness of legal procedure by portraying the work as the product of an overreaching and overpowering ACLU, a favorite bogeyman of religious and social conservatives.

The Discovery Institute acknowledges that such judicial adoption of Findings of Fact is standard procedure, but then claims that the breadth of the adoption in this case is "stunning," and notes that several errors in the ACLU's Findings of Fact ended up in the opinion, suggesting that the judge adopted the Findings without critical evaluation of them. "Stunning" to someone outside the legal profession, perhaps, but par for the course within it. And yes, even the mistakes that sneaked in are typical, because judges are human beings.

So why do I care about the Discovery Institute's deceptive statement? Because it was front page news in my local paper -- the main headline above the fold. And the article had a tone much like the Discovery Institute's statement, with only a cursory acknowledgement that the practice of using proposed findings of fact is in fact typical, and that is the the very reason that the parties prepare such proposed documents. Sigh.

zzzzzzzzz

Sometimes my life is so boring that I have trouble staying awake. This is especially true when it’s cold outside, because I seem to have this impulse to hibernate anyway. Some mornings, the squeaker and I are still huddled under the blankets at 10 a.m., and if I start to get up, the squeaker clings to me and says, “No, mama, don’t get up – let’s snuggle for one more minute!!” How can anyone say no to that?

That the squeaker does so many hilarious and entertaining things helps to keep me awake, and that is very good. But he can’t rescue me from the general dullness of my life at times. And that can also be good, because dullness generally means everyone is healthy and happy and safe, and I don’t really need or want the squeaker to be the reason for any dramatic twists and turns.

So here are some of the rather ordinary events in my life:

1) The squeaker has decided that he doesn’t like some of his books because they are too scary. This includes books where grown ups get mad or act grumpy, or characters are sad or disappointed. It sometimes includes books with monsters in them. This rejection of certain books would seem to suggest that the squeaker is a sensitive, soft-hearted child. But it fact, the games he plays mostly consist of predatory animals (cheetahs or lions or alligators) pouncing on unsuspecting and innocent prey (puppy dogs or antelopes or even his own mama). I’m less worried about reconciling this apparent contradiction than I am about ensuring that I’m not raising a sociopath. However, my peace-nik husband constantly reminds me that he spent much of his childhood melting action figures, slashing imaginary monsters in imaginary dungeons, and blowing up opponents in video games.
2) The squeaker tells me he doesn’t plan to use the toilet anytime soon. When I tell him big kids do, he nods and says that he is little. Sigh. Can’t argue with that.
3) I actually saw a movie – Stranger Than Fiction. My husband, who is always an easy sell on a “feel good” movie, enjoyed it. But I don’t know. Something about it didn’t work for me. It just felt too…cautious. Timid. Predictable. I felt that it had some good ideas bubbling just under the surface, but somehow the tepid screenplay prevented them from growing into something really interesting or thought-provoking.

Anyway, that is about as exciting as it gets.