Wednesday, February 22, 2012

To Those Who Defend Ignorance

Dear (insert your name here),

As I write this blog post, I frankly feel disheartened and disturbed because, after a discussion with some people earlier today, it became clear to me that my belief that knowledge about certain subjects is fundamentally important and good is not held by many. In fact, I've begun to think I may be in the minority.

Lest I sound hyperbolic, I'd recommend anyone reading this to go to youtube and search for "Lunch Scholars." In this video, students are asked random questions, and the results are pathetic. One girl thought that the Vice President of the United States was Osama bin Laden.

To be clear, I don't think the Internet is evil nor do I deny that technological changes have radically altered our culture - for instance, in most cases it is more important now that someone know how to find an answer than derive the answer him or herself. This doesn't bother me in the case, say, of a high school student interested in English using a calculator to do trigonomatry problems. But I'd hope that, even if you use a calculator to add, you still know how to add.

Most would probably agree that basic math skills are necessary but, sadly, it's hard to find a consensus about the importance of much else. Literature is all but considered useless except to those who are born with a love for stories and language, history is considered irrelevant to the present, and science is considered important only if you intend to become a scientist. I don't mean to say these generalizations or any specific anecdotes I could provide are conclusive evidence, but they do indicate a disturbing trend.

What I want to do here, rather than try to draw conclusions based on statistical information (all of which, incidentally corroborates the theory that we are growing less and less proficient in most, if not all, academic areas), is defend knowledge to those who would defend ignorance.

In the first place, there is a practical advantage to knowing certain information. Take history - without a general understanding of the past, it becomes impossible to take reasonable actions in the future. Moreover, if the public had no concept of anything that had happened in the past, not only would they be easy prey to the more manipulative and ruthless among us, but it's easy to see how society could erode completely. Secondly, I simply don't believe that everyone fact-checks everything they hear. Dictionary.com may exist, but does everyone instantly look up the meanings of words they don't know?

I don't intend to say much more partly because I don't want nor would dare to try and put myself in the position of explaining the value of knowledge as a concept and partly because I honestly find it difficult. I believe I could hold my own in a debate say about abortion, capital punishment, or religion, but what could I say to someone who argues that there is no such thing as logic? that freedom is evil? that the world doesn't even exist? I know these arguments have been had, but for me, the more basic the concept, the harder it is to explain. If, for instance, you believe slavery is good and freedom evil, then I don't know where to even start. Perhaps I just need to learn more/become a better debater.

In any case, my final point is that, while many I've spoken to talk about how impractical most knowledge is in relation to their everyday lives, my response is that life can be far more than simply the exercise of survival-based rituals. True, you could spend your life only eating, drinking, reproducing, and watching TV, but you don't have to, and the benefits that learning offers are as real as any other pleasure. Feeling proud of a hard-earned accomplishment is a far greater feeling than the fleeting happiness that comes from indulging in junk food. Knowing that you have mastered a subject puts you in a much better position than someone who has to look up the most basic facts. And, most importantly, by learning and discovering passions that make you an individual, you are able to take part and shape the subjects themselves - something those who think the Vice President is Osama bin Laden are unlikely to ever do.

Have I adequately argued for the importance of knowledge? I don't know - perhaps it would take much more than a single blog post to prove a point I believe to be obvious and, if so, I'm happy to have that conversation through comments. But I will say that in a time when the most basic ideas of right and wrong are constantly being tested, and more forces than ever before are hard at work to deliberate mislead the public (while those who are meant to protect against them are by and large incompetent), I believe it is vital to encourage intellectual growth, for it will not only ensure the continued maturation of humanity, but may even hold the only hope left of an enlightened society that celebrates constructive knowledge and not destructive ignorance.

-Matt

Saturday, February 4, 2012

The Atheism Book I'd Read, But That Doesn't Exist

(NOTE: In this post, I am going to fall back on Penn Jillete's differentiation between an atheist and and agnostic as answers to separate questions. "Is there a god?" The logical answers is, "I don't know." In this sense, I am an agnostic. "Do you believe in a god?" "No." In this sense, I am an atheist, since whether or not I say, "No," or "I don't know," I am not in the technical sense a theist, which seems to me to be necessarily someone who answers that question with a "Yes," even if he or she qualifies it with admitting that his ways aren't always understandable, or something to that effect)

Like many atheists, I enjoy watching clips of writers like Christopher Hitchens or Richard Dawkins debating priests, rabbis, or other religious leaders. Hitchens, in particular, is so knowledgable of religious texts and the history surrounding each religion's development, especially in the case of the three monotheisms (Christianity, Judaism, and Islam), that it's always a thrill to see him use the very words of these texts to show how brutal, bigoted, and frankly ridiculous most of the tenets of faiths are.

And yet, just glancing over this first paragraph, I already sense that anyone reading this, whether they agree or not, would label me a "militant atheist." I find this a bit sad since the real harm the term does isn't in what it says about me, but that it often ends any discussion before one can begin. If I am seen by a person of faith to be a militant atheist, than it's highly unlikely he or she will listen to whatever else I have to say under the assumption that I will merely spew vitriol about their beliefs and that nothing he or she might say can change my mind. There is also a kind of close-minded ignorance implied, as if a militant atheist is so committed to their ideology (as if there were such a thing as an official atheist ideology) that he or she is unable to appreciate the possible good points a religious person might bring up. It's almost the equivalent, in terms of what it does to a conversation and the minds of those conversing, to seeing someone as a militant racist - would you be interested in sitting down to have a discussion with such a person - and even if you were, would you be able to stop for one minute thinking how vile it was that someone could consider people superior or inferior based on something as meaningless as the color of their skin? I know I wouldn't.

Therefore, as I am against much of the totalitarian and society-damaging effects of religion, I find it difficult when confronted by someone of faith of having a fair hearing since the fact that I am an atheist willing to profess my non-belief and disdain for the worst atrocities that have their roots in religion (which is almost all it takes to be considered militant) leads them to a number of conclusions. Among them are that I am equating the most extreme of adherents with the many people of faith who go peacefully about their daily lives and that I am determined to impose my unbelief on them. I haven't even mentioned the fact yet that, simply by being an atheist, many suppose it is impossible to have any set of morals at all or that my non-belief must mean my world view is inherently nihilistic.

I have no intention of rehashing arguments about religion that have been written and argued for centuries by some of the wisest people ever to live, especially as I sincerely have no desire to change your view on the matter (though I admit that I think the world would be better off without it, that doesn't mean I'm willing to impose on someone of faith since that would mean committing one of the crimes I find many religious people guilty of - namely, imposing religious teachings into school curriculum, etc.). What I am interested in is postulating some questions that I don't feel have yet been addressed in the so-called "New Atheism" movement.

Regarding the celebrity atheists out there, I have only read "The God Delusion" by Dawkins and "The End of Faith" by Sam Harris. I suspect I'd find "god Is Not Great" to be interesting and informative, but seeing as I already agree with the premise, there seems little point in reading the book (though maybe I will in the future). The time seems better spent reading something like the Book of Mormon or the Koran to better understand what the other side is talking about.

However, (and correct me if I'm wrong and such a book does exist) I've been a little disappointed that most of the major atheist books focus primarily on using scientific evidence to debunk the assertions of holy books (such as that the world was created only 6,000 years ago) or on pointing on the most outlandish aspects of said books. Now, that isn't to say I don't think it's important to have some scientific understanding of the world or be willing to point out what religious texts actually say even if its uncomfortable (such as the many genocidal acts in the Bible), but I wonder how successful such an approach is in the long run. Speaking for myself, my gradual move from being a teenager who fervently believed in the teachings of Catholocism, was an alter boy, and who seriously thought at times about becoming a priest was the result of many events and researching other religions and, of course, atheism. In the end, I found that to live my life meaningfully, morally, and happily didn't require me to think that I'd go to Hell if I didn't pray the rosary every night (which I did for many, many years, often going to sleep terrified that I'd somehow slipped up and only prayed the Hail Mary forty-nine times instead of fifty and would be duly punished) or that I needed God's directions to tell me what was moral or not in the first place, it became gradually apparent that holding onto my faith was equivalent to keeping my training wheels after I'd already learned how to ride a bike without them.

What I'd like to see, then, is a book that discusses theism and atheism from a more personal, emotional perspective - one geared toward the millions, if not billions, of people who would say all this talk about terrorist attacks and genocide is irrelevant to them because their faith is something they rely on simply to live a good life. Why do they believe? I doubt it's because every one of them has concluded the science is in their favor. A more interesting question would be why faith is a virtue at all, while using scientific facts is seen at minimum as irrelevant and at worst disrespectful or even militant. Another question I'd like to see explored more is why people feel they need a faith at all, or what they fear would happen if they were to abandon it, seeing as I highly doubt most people would instantly go out murdering by the dozens if they suddenly decided there was such person as Moses, with his two tablets (although I did once meet someone who did say that, if the Ten Commandments didn't say murder was wrong, he would see no problem in murdering anyone who disagreed with him). And finally, speaking as someone who believes that stories and literature reflect what's most human about us, I'd like to see arguments about if or how the emotions we experience when we read something we truly love might be related to the emotions we experience reading compelling sections of the Bible, or the Koran, or the Talmud, etc. I don't mean to sound facetious at all when I say that I truly believe one could give an articulate sermon on the importance of friendship, of realizing that we can sometimes help others even if we can't fully take on their burden, and of more generally not letting our inability to appreciate pain someone else is undergoing prevent us from doing what we can for him or her by citing the scene in "The Return of the King" where Sam carries Frodo, who is weighed down by the Ring, on his back, since he cannot carry the Ring itself. Of course, you could also talk about Simon of Cyrene, during the fifth station of the cross, assisting Jesus on his way to Golgatha, but I wonder if the same points could not be made.

Anyway, this is an enormous topic I can't hope by to simply begin discussing in a single post, so I'll wrap up by saying that I would be interested (assuming one doesn't exist) in such a book that looked at the personal life of a moderate believer rather than marshelling scientific facts or pointing out destructive acts in holy texts as a way to push the conversation further and also help phase out the useless term "militant atheist."

As always, feel free to comment or generate a discussion,

-Matt

P.S. I hesitate to admit that I almost didn't write this post at all because simply admitting you are an atheist is seen by many as awful in itself. I'm sure that if certain people I know read this, they will be horribly disappointed and even worried about me (and my soul). But, within reason, I don't like to do or not do things simply due to fear, so rather than stay quiet, I intend to use this blog to do precisely what it was meant to do - act as a platform for me to present my ideas to anyone who is interested and reflect what I am genuinely thinking and feeling at a particular point in my life. My non-belief may anger some, but just I am free to believe what I want, they are free to be upset or agree with me. And frankly, I wouldn't want it any other way.