Better than God
At the beginning of this class, a question was posed to us in
the “introduction” section of the blog posts asking whether each of us thought
we were a good person. Upon reading that question, for a moment or two, I found
myself reliving a flashback from my failed-religious upbringing. The question
immediately struck me as that conversational tactic that Evangelical Christians
use to convert—not only non-believers or those of other faiths—but believers
who have yet to be “born-again.” This translates into an unrelenting never-good-enough
or much-less-than-perfect mindset that is dictated by self-interested parties
from “on high.” This inaccessible ambition puts the theist in a psychologically
advantageous and potentially manipulative position over their unassuming mark.
The theist, wielding guilt like a bludgeon against those who pursue this
unattainable platitude, plants their first seeds that, if firmly rooted, reap
an almost eternal harvest of perpetual submission and control. All that is
required for one to enlist themselves into this capitulation is simply say: “I believe.”
The theist is not concerned whether one actually believes or not, the slippery
slope of submission is all that matters. If a believer will take the bait, the
dogma will do the rest.
Although that wasn’t remotely
the motivation for the blog entry, the question of personal morality is still a
very important one. It didn't take long for me to engage in an exercise of "the examined life" and see that I'm in need of some improvement. But self-improvement doesn’t have to come at
the crippling cost of drinking someone else’s Kool-Aid.
Religious belief eerily parallels the Stockholm syndrome.
This phenomenon is where hostages eventually feel empathy for their captors,
and some will even resort to violence to defend their oppressors. Prescribed
violence can be found as a source of retribution in the so-called “holy” books—even
at a cursory glance.
So the question is: do we really need to give our minds away
to be good? You have to ask yourself if you think you wouldn’t know right from
wrong without a Bible or Quran? Would we be at sea without the Ten
Commandments, Genesis, Leviticus, or Deuteronomy? Would we be confused about
the moral implications of torture, killing, rape, and perjury without religion?
One would hardly think so. In fact, it’s almost to the contrary. Therefore, like
the introductory question, I now ask myself: am I a good person? Well, I will
argue that not only can one be a good person without religion; all things being
equal, one could be considered a morally superior person by denouncing the
shackles of religion and rejecting the dogma commanded by imaginary gods. Given
all the atrocities of Hitler, Stalin, and Mao, and Pol Pot— even they didn’t
flood the entire planet. Religion is precariously poised against all of
humanity.
“Religion is an insult to human dignity. With or without it you would
have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for
good people to do evil things, that takes religion.” —Stephen Weinberg, Nobel
Prize winning physicist.
Religion is not only an insult to human dignity: it’s an insult to human
morality. Religion affords evil a safe refuge from the storms of our better
nature because it pompously parades institutional tyranny and personal
prejudices—wrought from unverifiable personal revelation—as Divine validation
for injustice.
Radical relativism ultimately lies in the hands of the believer. Theistic
accusations of moral relativism are simply a product of psychological projection.
Theists believe only their particular brand of god is the path to “Truth,” and,
if they hold that “Truth,” then the thoughts in their head commanding their
actions are necessarily from their particular god. E.g., this is a logically
valid argument for personal revelation:
1.
If I hear thoughts in my head and I hold the truth,
then God is speaking to me.
2.
I hear thoughts in my head and I hold the truth.
3.
Therefore, God is speaking to me.
It’s that easy. This argument is completely valid but non-believers would
immediately challenge the truth of the premises. The trouble is, all of that
evidence is in the theist’s head and completely inaccessible to independent
verification.
So, to put it loosely, here’s the rub: all (well…most) of us have
thoughts in our head. Theists simply claim theirs are directly from God. As
Weinberg noted, good people will do good things and bad people will do bad
things. Doing good things happens all the time. People, believers and
non-believers alike, help the poor, donate to charity, care for the sick, etc.
because they feel they have a “calling” (from thoughts in their head or a
feeling in their heart) to do good things. Regardless whether one believes,
Zeus or no Zeus, these thoughts and feelings prevail. But on the other side of
that same coin lies a terrible beast itching to be awakened—a Divine license
for injustice.
When good people unremorsefully do bad things it takes something to
justify their actions. God is the perfect alibi. Since each believer is
searching for “revealed truth,” bigotry and personal prejudices are easily and
naturally confirmed (my god is speaking to me) by one’s own thoughts and
feelings. Then, Divine authorization takes each individual believer’s beliefs
to the absolute regardless of what the consequences. When this happens, the
believer has certainty in their intuitions, no matter how repugnant, because
God has spoken and it is so. But this is not Divine revelation—it’s evil so
carefully cloaked in theology. Immorality is prescription whereas evil is
conscription; it has a life of it’s own and it’s knocking on your door.
But how does this make the non-believer better than the believer? The
non-believer’s morality is grounded in humanity and the believer’s morality is
grounded in personal preferences. The proof for the absence of absolutes is
evident in the complete lack of consensus on what a god might want, say, or
command. This alone is radical relativism. As Plato’s Socrates pointed out: If
thing are good because God commanded them, then good is arbitrary. The only
constant in theology is the voice of God inside the believer’s head whose
commands command no common consensus.
When someone says they put God first they are really saying they put
themselves first. And where are all these gods anyway? Well, they’re right
there in the theist’s head. So, if one puts God (themselves) first, guess what comes
after that? Everything: family, friends, neighbors, loved ones, etc. But what
is most significant—theists place God above humanity. The stark reality is we
need humanity; we don’t need a god.
One important aspect of atheism is that non-believers have to answer for
their own actions. They also have to justify morality with humanity down here
on earth where it counts. Also, they can’t pretend to hold some truth that is
beyond humanity and hold humanity to some incoherent standard. Further, bigots,
racists, misogynists, and fascists have to answer for themselves rather than
hide behind some Divine, transparent veil of protection. A not-so-distant
example is justification for slavery cannot be grounded in the punishment of
the children of Ham.
But being personally responsible for one’s own actions alone is does not
make a person better but it certainly sets the stage. If I take responsibility
for my own actions and ground my morality in humanity instead of some supernatural
confirmation of prejudice, here’s a short list of what I’m not capable
of:
1.
Telling children they will burn in hell for eternity
if they don’t believe in my superstition.
2.
Denying others their rights because they think or
act differently than those in my tribe.
3.
Lying to people about what a god wants them to do.
4.
Cheating people out of 10% of their money for
proselytizing under the guise of “helping others.”
5.
Putting my invisible friend first in my life instead
of my family, friends, neighbors and anything else that is important in one’s
life.
6.
Spending Sundays worshiping something that doesn’t
exist and reading from morally repugnant book.
7.
Apologizing for genocide, rape, torture, slavery,
and a host of other unthinkable crimes against humanity in a book written by bronze-age
sheepherders.
8.
Telling people that I don’t judge them but my
invisible friend will condemn them to hell.
9.
Pretending I’m special or “chosen” just because of
my beliefs.
10.
Holding food hostage from the hungry in order to
proselyte about my invisible friend.
11.
Killing or beheading those who insult my god.
12.
Telling others that I think their loved ones may be
in “in the wrong place” after they die because they didn’t adopt my particular
myth.
13.
Justifying the killing of my children because they
“dishonored” my family name.
14.
Telling women when, how, where, in what position,
and under what circumstances they can have sex.
15.
Denying people who love one another—regardless of
sexual orientation—the right to marry.
16.
Praying for someone and thinking I’m actually doing
something useful for them.
So, am I a good person? I certainly try to be. But of one thing I am
certain: I’m a better person than any fundamental theist and definitely much
better than the any of the gods they worship.
True morality lies in the hearts of those who carefully consider the
hopes, dreams, and needs of his fellow man—not at an arm’s length—but deep in
shadows of his soul.
You could spin those incapabilities into the new 16 Commandments and launch the Church of Deanology. You just need a good creation myth...
ReplyDeleteI have a cool hat and cape but all the good creation myths are taken. Maybe I could plagiarize one like the Christians did--mix and match.
ReplyDeleteI'll really have to practice at keeping a straight face though.
Wait a sec. Are we talking about a creation myth for Dean? I'm pretty sure its going to involve two sweaty people who love each other very much....
ReplyDeleteYa, you might wanna spruce that up a bit.
I would disagree with number two though. Examples of tribalism certainly don't require and in fact often supersedes religion.
ReplyDeleteI generally try not to campaign for radical anything, nor would I consider myself a radical relativist. But I think even non-believers can benefit in many ways from understanding the role of narratives and conditioning in how we are able to conceibe of the world, even in scientific fields