I can feel the religious tolerance*… can’t you?

*Tolerance is the same thing as irony, right?

Blasphemy day, which takes place on September 30 to commemorate the publication of these cartoons, is a celebration of our right to free speech, and a reminder that there is still a very real threat in this world to people being able to express their ideas freely, and without fear of reprisal. It is my firm belief that all ideologies should be subjected to fair and open criticism, and that laws should exist to protect the rights of people — not sacred cows. Does that mean some people will get offended? Sure. However, the minute you step into a free and democratic society, based on the notion that not everybody does (or wants to) live their life in the same way that you do, you forfeit your right to not be offended.

With this in mind, the University of Toronto Secular Alliance, joined by the Centre for Inquiry, took to the streets yesterday to create a “free speech zone” on the University of Toronto’s campus. We set up an information booth, showed “blasphemous” videos, allowed people to write blasphemous messages on a public notice board, and generally allowed people to speak their mind. I am happy to say that we had a wide spectrum of people show up — not just atheists and agnostics. People chose to express their opinions in different ways — from shouting matches to quiet conversations — and it was all done in the spirit of free speech and diversity of opinions. The event was a huge success, and I am proud to have been able to take part.

Below are some of the photos from the event:

The full set can be found on Flickr, here: http://www.flickr.com/photos/mgerskup/sets/72157622490928466/

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Also, while we’re on the issue of free expression, I’m happy to announce that I will be contributing to a new Canadian Skeptic’s blog called Skeptic North. The site just launched today, and I’ll be submitting my first contribution this weekend. There are some very talented people contributing to this blog, so why not go check it out?

http://www.skepticnorth.com/

What would it take to convince you of God’s love?

To start, it would be useful to know that God actually existed. I feel that this is a fair prerequisite condition to be met before I could be convinced that God actually loves me.

Second, it would help if God talked to me on occasion. It’s really hard to know if somebody loves you when they’re never around, and don’t even bother to write or call.

Your move, God.

A simpler truth.

Courtesy of Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal.

Despite this seeming like a gross violation of the Freethought Association of Canada’s freedom of speech, it’s troubling that the city government in our Nation’s capital would so blatantly apply a double standard to religious and non-religious messages. This would be less troubling if the city had a policy against religious messages of any sort, but this is simply not the case.

“I don’t follow the logic,” said Bus Stop Bible Studies founder David Harrison. “Why would they approve ours and not theirs? If we don’t stand up for (the atheists’) rights, ours will be trampled too.”

Hell, even the other side is sticking up for the rights of the non-believers. To say that I am ashamed in the City of Ottawa would be a gross understatement.

Now, if somebody really wanted to spice this debate up, they would try to get Qur’an verses displayed on the buses.

Link.

I describe myself as an atheist. This means that I do not believe in a god. The definition isn’t confusing to me, because I already know what my beliefs are. The problem arises when I try to explain my beliefs to others. My beliefs can be legitimately described as either atheism or agnosticism; however, these terms both have dual meanings. This leads to some confusion when I tell other people that I am an atheist.

Atheism

There are two common definitions of atheism:

1. Lack of belief in a god.
2. The belief that god does not exist.

As I stated above, I subscribe to the first of the two beliefs. Though it is not obvious at first, there is a subtle distinction between the two definitions[1. Note that the first definition is a lack of a certain commonly held belief, whereas the second definition is a belief that opposes another commonly held belief.]. Whereas definition number one refuses to accept the god hypothesis[2. The commonly held belief that there is a supernatural being (God) that interacts with our universe in some way, and is potentially the creator of either a) the universe, or b) (intelligent) life on Earth.], definition two actively claims that the god hypothesis is wrong. The second definition is problematic, because it leads to the problematic situation of trying to prove a negative.

When I say that I do not believe in a god, I mean that the hypothesis “there is a god” is at odds with all known evidence, and therefore I do not think that there is enough evidence to accept the hypothesis. I am not making an existential claim about a supernatural entity, just like I don’t claim that unicorns and faeries don’t exist. It is merely the case that I have yet to be presented with compelling evidence to cause me to believe in the existence of a god. It is true that there are certain logical inconsistencies with the idea of divine, benevolent, and omnipotent supernatural being, but I don’t usually worry about such things in my day-to-day beliefs.

The second definition is one that no self-respecting atheist subscribes to, but one that is often used to describe atheist beliefs. This definition tacitly accepts that there are grounds for believing in the hypothesis “there is a god”, and goes on to state that the atheist knows that God does not exist. This definition is doubly problematic; both in assuming that there is validity to the claim “there is a god”, and in asserting that atheists have some proof or evidence as to why the hypothesis is wrong.

This belief would be dogmatic, because the idea of proving a negative is inconsistent with the rules of empiricism. Empirical evidence, and inductive reasoning, only allows us to think in terms of probabilities — as opposed to absolutes. We know that there’s a very good chance that both the sun will rise tomorrow, and that when we drop something, it will fall to the ground. However, we can never know these things absolutely, as all it would take is one example contrary to the rule in order to disprove the rule. In reality, the probability of something falling upwards when we drop it are very low (almost indistinguishable from zero), and so we say: “I know that when I drop this pen, it will fall to the ground.” The same is true with our belief about a god; whereas we do not know with certainty that there is no god, we do know that given the evidence (i.e. none) it is incredibly unlikely. Thus leading to the legitimacy of the phrase “there is no God” — it might not literally represent what an atheist actually believes, but it is consistent with the colloquial usage of the phrase “there is no ___.”

Agnosticism

Like atheism, there are two common definitions of agnosticism:

1. The belief that God is not part of the realm of empirical evidence, and therefore unknowable.
2. The belief that we might discover a God, but we have yet to find any evidence.

I, like many other atheists, subscribe to the first of these two definitions. Recognizing that science and empirical inquiry can only ever reveal facts about our physical world, any supernatural hypothesis like a god will always be sliced away by Occam’s razor. We have found a natural explanation for everything so far, and there’s nothing to suggest that the trend won’t continue into the foreseeable future. Coupled with the historical fact that all things that have been attributed to one or more gods in the past, have since been shown to have natural explanations, the first type of agnostic realizes that God simply has no place in modern scientific thought.

Many people use the first definition of agnosticism as a stand-in for describing themselves as atheists in order to avoid the above-mentioned ambiguity in the definition of atheism. There’s nothing wrong with this; however, I find that it has the undesired side effect of substituting one ambiguity for another. This leads us to the second definition of agnosticism.

The second definition is entirely different from the first. Whereas the first definition is characteristic of atheism, the second definition is characteristic of somebody who wants to believe, and is just looking for an excuse to do so. The second type of agnostics are usually religious people in the middle of a crisis of faith, or people who were raised without strong religious beliefs, yet hunger to be told that there’s some greater power in the universe. Neither of these people are skeptics, though some of them might be headed in the right direction. By choosing agnostic over atheist, you risk being labeled as a person on a spiritual quest, as opposed to being a person who simply does not believe in a god.

What does this all mean? Probably that whenever I tell somebody that I’m an atheist, it will still have to be followed up with a 5-10 minute conversation as to what that really means. Not that I really mind.

Where science and religion differ greatly is in how they go about answering questions about our world, and more specifically, how they go about evaluating and improving their theories for how the world works. Both theorize as to possible causes for natural events. Science explains natural phenomenon by way of many tiny interactions of universal forces that act upon each other to create complex systems, and religion usually explains natural phenomenon by way of one, or many, gods (usually omnipotent and omniscient beings that are both creators and designers of the universe). However, this is where the two processes differ. Once a theory has been arrived at, science goes on to ask whether it is the only possible theory, and if so, if it is the best possible theory. Scientific theory is constantly under evaluation, and the instant something with more predictive power comes along, the new theory is integrated into the body of scientific knowledge. Religion lacks this constant drive for self-improvement. It comes up with one answer, and sticks to it.

Now, some might argue that religious theory is perfect, because it was handed down by a god/gods in its present form, and therefore requires no improvement. There are two problems with this argument, though. The first, and most obvious, problem with this argument is that our interpretation of religious laws changes over time. Religious teachings now are not what they were 1000 years ago. And in some cases (like Judaism), a great deal of emphasis is placed on studying our interpretation of the holy texts and laws contained therein. Regardless of whether or not the laws are perfect, if we acknowledge that our interpretation can be flawed, then this leaves room for improvement.

If it is the case that religious teachings have always been right, and that we are capable of improving our interpretation of them (i.e. by studying them we can gain a greater understanding of what they mean), then it begs the question of why scientific findings (also a method of human learning and understanding) are diverging, rather than converging, on religious theory. Either there is something deeply flawed with the scientific method (which is always a possibility, but not something that has been shown yet), or the two types of knowledge should be growing closer over time. The fact that they aren’t seems troublesome, and given that both branches acknowledge the fallibility of human knowledge, science seems to be the only one correcting for this, by constantly questioning its own assumptions, and improving as a result.

I recognize that this probably won’t convince anybody who’s deeply religious (and let’s face it, if you’re deeply religious you probably aren’t reading this blog anyways), and some people are comfortable with not questioning their beliefs too deeply, but it’s such a small step that can have such a large impact on how you view the world. Never stop questioning your beliefs.

Let us look at the last part of that statement first. A favorite argument of the Young Earth Creationists and the Answers in Genesis crowd is to state that science and religion provide different worldviews– That the systems use different assumptions about our world and reality and are therefore destined to arrive at different conclusions.  Some go as far as to label science as a religion, and why shouldn’t they? Science is based on a bunch of presuppositions as is any other system of belief. So why is science a more legitimate worldview? Because it lets us get at the truth. In order to understand why science is not “just another religion”, we have to understand what science really is as well as the presuppositions upon which it is based.

Science can only reveal empirical truth, and not metaphysical truth. Some people see this as a shortcoming of science, but even if metaphysical truth existed, of what use would it be to us? Philosophy is an interesting intellectual pursuit, but even Descartes had the common sense to see that the way we view the world through philosophy fails to alter our worldviews when we leave our study and go outside afterward. Whether religious, scientific, or both, we all tend to judge the truth in the same way: By what matches our observations[1. We could introduce philosophical skepticism at this point, and begin doubting all of our senses, but where would this get us?]. The religious person still looks both ways before they cross the road, and they wash their hands before they sit down to eat dinner. From any moderate perspective, it is obvious that science and religion do not conflict in basic worldviews, as some extremists would have you think. In fact, science and religion are both dependent upon empiricism; the only main difference is that religion assumes that one can talk with god (an all-knowing supernatural entity that imparts divine wisdom).

NOMA

NOMA, or Non-Overlapping Magisteria, is a concept invented by Stephen Jay Gould. It describes science and religion as separate (non-overlapping) fields. The idea being that each could co-exist with the other by means of them answering different questions and looking for different answers. The principle states that “the magisterium of science covers the empirical realm: what the universe is made of (fact) and why does it work in this way (theory). The magisterium of religion extends over questions of ultimate meaning and moral value. These two magisteria do not overlap, nor do they encompass all inquiry (consider, for example, the magisterium of art and the meaning of beauty).”[2. Gould, Stephen Jay. Rocks of Ages: Science and Religion in the Fullness of Life. New York: Ballantine Books. ISBN 034545040X.] Before we proceed, it should be understood that most scientists have publicly adopted similar positions; however, this is mostly done for political reasons (the less time you have to spend fighting religion, the more time you can spend doing science). Though science is firmly rooted in empiricism (and therefore diametrically opposed to a vast majority of religious beliefs), it often tends to avoid conflict except when religious ideas directly conflict with scientific investigation or science education. However, it is important that we not confuse the desire to avoid conflict with the belief that science and religion can be compatible with each other.

The fact is that science and religion are not compatible. With the exception of morality (discussed below), religion and science are really just two different ways of looking at the same problem. Religion asks the same questions as science does (how does the world work, why are we here, etc.), but takes a radically different approach to answering them. Whereas science engages in empirical inquiry; testing theories against empirical observations and subjecting them to a rigorous peer-review process, religion operates under a branch of assumptions (There is a god, God is all-knowing, God revealed his knowledge to us in book form, our religious book is the correct one, etc.).

The bottom line is that religion purports to tell us how the world works, and as such is directly in conflict with science. In fact, any theory that tries to explain a natural phenomenon in a non-scientific way is in direct conflict with science. The truth is that religion is nothing more than an outmoded form of inquiry, with sloppy methods by modern standards from a time when we simply did not know any better. Now that we have an organized and methodical way of investigating our surroundings, there is no need to rely on speculation concerning the supernatural.

Religion and Morality

The last claim of the desperate is often to point out that science is incapable of making any moral claims. Science can tell us the how and why behind morality, but it cannot tell us what we should be doing. The religious grasp upon this point, and use it to show why religion must therefore be the answer. After all, religion has a set of morals, and most of the rules seem pretty good. Surely, religion can be separate from science in this regard, right?

Well, yes and no. On the one hand, religion sets itself apart from science in that it tells us how we should behave morally. On the other hand, religion has no more of a right to do this than science does, and should probably stop. Why?

As Plato showed us thousands of years ago, morality derived from religion does not work. The parable of Euthyphro outlines the dilemma in morality-derived-from-religion, or the divine command theory of morality. The Euthyphro Dilemma asks the question (in roughly equivalent terms): “Is an action moral because god commands it, or does God command it because it is moral?” If the former is true, than morality is completely arbitrary; and we only do things because God commands us to. This might be a satisfactory explanation of morality if you behave in a moral fashion simply to avoid God’s wrath, but for most people this is not a satisfactory answer. If the latter is true, then God is superfluous to the system of morality. He might have created a book with a list of rules in it, but the rules transcend God; he merely highlights them for us. If this is the case, then God is unnecessary in order to live a moral life.

The truth is most people believe the latter to be the case. They see morality as something that is intrinsic and objective, and not something contingent upon God’s wishes. Whether or not this is the case (I am not a big fan of objective morality), it is generally agreed that while religion does teach some moral lessons, it is not the source of our morality. Religion is not necessarily even the best source of morality, as there is often a lot of bad mixed in with the good. For every rule about not murdering other people, there is a rule about stoning insolent children, or sending menstruating women out into the desert. The moral lessons taught in the Bible (and other religious texts) are often seen as archaic, and most modern believers select the rules that they like, and toss out the rest. Religion may be capable of teaching morality, but it certainly does not have the monopoly on morality that it likes to claim. There is really nothing more moral about a religious text than any other collection of fables. There is also the added implication that non-religious people are somehow amoral. As an atheist, I find it offensive when people believe I cannot act in a moral fashion because of my lack of belief in a supernatural power.

What a Wonderful World

Even if a religious person were to accept all of the above, they would still claim that religion provides something that science cannot: A sense of wonder about our world and our existence. Because there is no objective way to measure a sense of wonder, we tend to have to take people at face value when they say they have such an experience. That being said, the sense of awe that is typically associated with religious experiences can be completely divorced from God and spiritualism. In fact, I have recently blogged about a case of just such an experience being misinterpreted as something supernatural. The truth is that it is not necessary to believe in God, or the supernatural, in order to be rendered awestruck by the size and complexity of our universe. To me, the image of the Earth as a Pale Blue Dot (an image of Earth taken by Voyager 1 from approximately 4 billion miles away) creates a greater sense of reverence in me than any religious text, ceremony, or experience ever has… or (I believe) could.

It is only human to look for patterns and meaning in chaos and natural order, and the human brain excels at these things. It is precisely for this reason why we need scientific inquiry to allow us to sort out all of our sensory biases from reality.