I got this from the "Irish Times" via a friend's blog-site. While
there's much in it with which I would not agree, I found it well-
written and frequently positively provocative. It covers a lot of
ground already covered here since I started checking out the Eye -
still, it might elicit some interesting comment and discussion:
The article below appears in the IrishTimes (20. March, 2008)
"The atheist delusion
"Opposition to religion occupies the high ground, intellectually and
morally," wrote Martin Amis recently. Over the past few years, leading
writers and thinkers have published best-selling tracts against God.
But the "secular fundamentalists" have got it all wrong, according to
John Gray .
AN ATMOSPHERE of moral panic surrounds religion. Viewed not so long
ago as a relic of superstition whose role in society was steadily
declining, it is now demonised as the cause of many of the world's
worst evils. As a result, there has been a sudden explosion in the
literature of proselytising atheism. A few years ago, it was difficult
to persuade commercial publishers even to think of bringing out books
on religion. Today, tracts against religion can be enormous money-
spinners, with Richard Dawkins's The God Delusion and Christopher
Hitchens's God Is Not Great selling in the hundreds of thousands. For
the first time in generations, scientists and philosophers, high-
profile novelists and journalists are debating whether religion has a
future. The intellectual traffic is not all one-way. There have been
counterblasts for believers, such as The Dawkins Delusion? by the
British theologian Alister McGrath and The Secular Age by the Canadian
Catholic philosopher Charles Taylor. On the whole, however, the anti-
God squad has dominated the sales charts, and it is worth asking why.
The abrupt shift in the perception of religion is only partly
explained by terrorism. The 9/11 hijackers saw themselves as martyrs
in a religious tradition, and western opinion has accepted their self-
image. And there are some who view the rise of Islamic fundamentalism
as a danger comparable with the worst that were faced by liberal
societies in the 20th century. For Dawkins and Hitchens, Daniel
Dennett and Martin Amis, Michel Onfray, Philip Pullman and others,
religion in general is a poison that has fuelled violence and
oppression throughout history, right up to the present day. The
urgency with which they produce their anti-religious polemics suggests
that a change has occurred as significant as the rise of terrorism:
the tide of secularisation has turned. These writers come from a
generation schooled to think of religion as a throwback to an earlier
stage of human development, which is bound to dwindle away as
knowledge continues to increase. In the 19th century, when the
scientific and industrial revolutions were changing society very
quickly, this may not have been an unreasonable assumption. Dawkins,
Hitchens and the rest may still believe that, over the long run, the
advance of science will drive religion to the margins of human life,
but this is now an article of faith rather than a theory based on
evidence.
It is true that religion has declined sharply in a number of countries
(Ireland is a recent example) and has not shaped everyday life for
most people in Britain for many years. Much of Europe is clearly post-
Christian. However, there is nothing that suggests the move away from
religion is irreversible, or that it is potentially universal. The US
is no more secular today than it was 150 years ago, when de
Tocqueville was amazed and baffled by its all-pervading religiosity.
The secular era was in any case partly illusory. The mass political
movements of the 20th century were vehicles for myths inherited from
religion, and it is no accident that religion is reviving now that
these movements have collapsed. The current hostility to religion is a
reaction against this turnabout. Secularisation is in retreat, and the
result is the appearance of an evangelical type of atheism not seen
since Victorian times.
As in the past, this is a type of atheism that mirrors the faith it
rejects. Philip Pullman's Northern Lights - a subtly allusive,
multilayered allegory, recently adapted into a Hollywood blockbuster,
The Golden Compass - is a good example. Pullman's parable concerns far
more than the dangers of authoritarianism. The issues it raises are
essentially religious, and it is deeply indebted to the faith it
attacks. Pullman has stated that his atheism was formed in the
Anglican tradition, and there are many echoes of Milton and Blake in
his work. His largest debt to this tradition is the notion of free
will. The central thread of the story is the assertion of free will
against faith. The young heroine, Lyra Belacqua, sets out to thwart
the Magisterium - Pullman's metaphor for Christianity - because it
aims to deprive humans of their ability to choose their own course in
life, which she believes would destroy what is most human in them. But
the idea of free will that informs liberal notions of personal
autonomy is biblical in origin (think of the Genesis story). The
belief that exercising free will is part of being human is a legacy of
faith, and like most varieties of atheism today, Pullman's is a
derivative of Christianity.
Zealous atheism renews some of the worst features of Christianity and
Islam. Just as much as these religions, it is a project of universal
conversion. Evangelical atheists never doubt that human life can be
transformed if everyone accepts their view of things, and they are
certain that one way of living - their own, suitably embellished - is
right for everybody. To be sure, atheism need not be a missionary
creed of this kind. It is entirely reasonable to have no religious
beliefs, and yet be friendly to religion. It is a funny sort of
humanism that condemns an impulse that is peculiarly human. Yet that
is what evangelical atheists do when they demonise religion.
A curious feature of this kind of atheism is that some of its most
fervent missionaries are philosophers. Daniel Dennett's Breaking the
Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon claims to sketch a general
theory of religion. In fact, it is mostly a polemic against American
Christianity. This parochial focus is reflected in Dennett's view of
religion, which for him means the belief that some kind of
supernatural agency (whose approval believers seek) is needed to
explain the way things are in the world. For Dennett, religions are
efforts at doing something science does better - they are rudimentary
or abortive theories, or else nonsense. "The proposition that God
exists," he writes severely, "is not even a theory." But religions do
not consist of propositions struggling to become theories. The
incomprehensibility of the divine is at the heart of Eastern
Christianity, while in Orthodox Judaism, practice tends to have
priority over doctrine. Buddhism has always recognised that in
spiritual matters truth is ineffable, as do Sufi traditions in Islam.
Hinduism has never defined itself by anything as simplistic as a
creed. It is only some western Christian traditions, under the
influence of Greek philosophy, which have tried to turn religion into
an explanatory theory.
The notion that religion is a primitive version of science was
popularised in the late 19th century. The positivists believed that
with the development of transport and communication irrational
thinking would wither way, along with the religions of the past.
Despite the history of the past century, Dennett believes much the
same. In an interview that appears on the website of the Edge
Foundation (
edge.org) under the title The Evaporation of the Powerful
Mystique of Religion , he predicts that "in about 25 years almost all
religions will have evolved into very different phenomena, so much so
that in most quarters religion will no longer command the awe that it
does today". He is confident that this will come about, he tells us,
mainly because of "the worldwide spread of information technology (not
just the internet, but cell phones and portable radios and
television)". The philosopher has evidently not reflected on the
ubiquity of mobile phones among the Taliban, or the emergence of a
virtual al-Qaeda on the web.
The growth of knowledge is a fact only postmodern relativists deny.
Science is the best tool we have for forming reliable beliefs about
the world, but it does not differ from religion by revealing a bare
truth that religions veil in dreams. Both science and religion are
systems of symbols that serve human needs - in the case of science,
for prediction and control. Religions have served many purposes, but
at bottom they answer to a need for meaning that is met by myth rather
than explanation. A great deal of modern thought consists of secular
myths - hollowed-out religious narratives translated into pseudo-
science. Dennett's notion that new communications technologies will
fundamentally alter the way human beings think is just such a myth.
In The God Delusion , Dawkins attempts to explain the appeal of
religion in terms of the theory of "memes", vaguely defined conceptual
units that compete with one another in a parody of natural selection.
He recognises that, because humans have a universal tendency to
religious belief, it must have had some evolutionary advantage, but
today, he argues, it is perpetuated mainly through bad education.
From a Darwinian standpoint, the crucial role Dawkins gives to
education is puzzling. Human biology has not changed greatly over
recorded history, and if religion is hardwired in the species, it is
difficult to see how a different kind of education could alter this.
Yet Dawkins seems convinced that if it were not inculcated in schools
and families, religion would die out. This is a view that has more in
common with a certain type of fundamentalist theology than with
Darwinian theory, and I cannot help being reminded of the evangelical
Christian who assured me that children reared in a chaste environment
would grow up without illicit sexual impulses.
Dawkins's "memetic theory of religion" is a classic example of the
nonsense that is spawned when Darwinian thinking is applied outside
its proper sphere. Along with Dennett, who also holds to a version of
the theory, Dawkins maintains that religious ideas survive because
they would be able to survive in any "meme pool", or else because they
are part of a "memeplex" that includes similar memes, such as the idea
that, if you die as a martyr, you will enjoy 72 virgins.
Unfortunately, the theory of memes is science only in the sense that
Intelligent Design is science. Strictly speaking, it is not even a
theory. Talk of memes is just the latest in a succession of ill-judged
Darwinian metaphors.
Dawkins compares religion to a virus: religious ideas are memes that
infect vulnerable minds, especially those of children. Biological
metaphors may have their uses - the minds of evangelical atheists seem
particularly prone to infection by religious memes, for example. At
the same time, analogies of this kind are fraught with peril. Dawkins
makes much of the oppression perpetrated by religion, which is real
enough. He gives less attention to the fact that some of the worst
atrocities of modern times were committed by regimes that claimed
scientific sanction for their crimes. Nazi "scientific racism" and
Soviet "dialectical materialism" reduced the unfathomable complexity
of human lives to the deadly simplicity of a scientific formula. In
each case, the science was bogus, but it was accepted as genuine at
the time, and not only in the regimes in question. Science is as
liable to be used for inhumane purposes as any other human
institution. Indeed, given the enormous authority science enjoys, the
risk of it being used in this way is greater."
I hope to get around to making the odd comment myself in the next few
days but I'm too tired now.
And so to bed.
Francis