Read Atheism For Dummies (For Dummies (Religion & Spirituality)) Online
Authors: Dale McGowan
Atheists have it easier. We can look at an idea and say, “That’s immoral, and here’s why.” No need to struggle, wrestle, or bend over backwards to explain the difference between our current understanding of right and wrong and the one trapped in amber by scriptures we’ve inherited. If something from any influential book or thinker is reconsidered in the light of new evidence or a better moral consensus, we’re free to change it or throw it away.
Not that we jump at the chance. Despite our self-image as 100 percent sober and rational, we atheists can kick and scream and cry as much as anyone when our most treasured preconceptions are challenged. We’re human that way. But in the end, we don’t have sacredness to hide behind, so the more level and less biased heads in the room will keep things moving forward.
Enlightened nonbelievers have joined with enlightened believers to end slavery, improve race relations, promote the rights of women, gays, and lesbians, and create an international system of law — more often despite scriptures than because of them. I admire those believers who challenge their own sacred books when necessary, and I’m glad I don’t have to figure out how to do that myself.
Embracing doubt
Certainty is comforting. But a big part of embracing the naturalistic worldview is letting go of the addiction to being certain — or at least thinking I am.
Phrases like “I don’t know,” “I’m not sure,” and “nobody knows for sure” are a good sign that someone has embraced honest doubt. A naturalistic worldview includes the ability to say, for example, “What was there before the Big Bang? Nobody knows” — and mean it. It means avoiding the temptation to add “ . . . no one knows but God.” As comforting as it is to think that someone somewhere has all the answers, even if we don’t know them ourselves, atheists agree with the philosopher David Hume, who said that God is just the answer you get if you don’t ask enough questions.
The problem with “certainty” is that it closes doors.
Skepticism
(withholding judgment until sufficient evidence is available) is the right alternative to certainty — and skepticism is not, despite some claims, a negative thing, not the same as cynicism. It’s a core value for humanists and scientists alike. If I declare that I know the answer to a given question beyond any doubt, there’s no more investigation. Sometimes my assumption is right. But just as often, the answer I’ve latched onto will turn out to be wrong. Skepticism, which keeps the door open, is a better option. It allows me to keep asking questions, which means getting really comfortable with doubt.
Rethinking sex and sexuality
When it comes to sex and gender, the Bronze Age wasn’t the most enlightened time. Religions born in this period have conserved and transmitted these ideas up to the present day. As a result, sex itself is often wrapped up in a confusion of mixed messages — to paraphrase country singer Butch Hancock, religions with Bronze Age roots often call sex a dirty, nasty thing . . . that I should save for someone I love.
Though many religious people have moved beyond these fearful notions, many others keep following their scriptures regarding sex and gender — even though the rest of society has long since outgrown them.
Being free of ancient scriptures and unchangeable ideas means the nonreligious can easily adapt and change their attitudes as cultures and ethics mature. (For more on changing moral standards, and why it’s a very good thing, see
Chapter 15
.) No area of human life is in greater need of an update since the Bronze Age than sexuality and gender.
Atheists and humanists don’t have a separate set of ethics related to sex. The same questions of responsibility and consequences apply as with everything else. Does a particular sexual practice harm anyone? Has everybody involved given informed consent? If so, then have a blast. Sex is a natural part of being human, and evolution, not Satan, has made it enjoyable. That’s why every one of your ancestors had sex. And a good thing, or this book would have one less reader.
The following sections highlight a couple of harmless sexual practices that tend to give some religions a stroke.
Masturbation
The roots of society’s odd attitudes toward masturbation are intertwined with the age-old distrust of bodily pleasures. That distrust probably didn’t originate in religion. Religion is simply a place to put humanity’s most beloved ideas for safekeeping — both good and bad. So when it comes to perpetuating and reinforcing fearful attitudes toward the safest sex of all, it’s hard to beat scriptural religion.
Ancient attitudes toward masturbation have been carefully preserved in several traditional religions — often in amazingly over-the-top language. The Catholic catechism calls masturbation “an intrinsically and gravely disordered action,” and a popular 19th century Jewish theologian called it “a graver sin than any other in the Torah.” The Torah includes the first five books of the Bible, by the way, so masturbation is apparently worse than anything forbidden in the Ten Commandments, including murder. Mormonism teaches that “masturbation is a sinful habit that robs one of the Spirit,” while Shi’a Islam forbids it completely, quoting sect founder Imam Ali as saying “one who masturbates commits a sin equal to killing me eighty times.”
Twenty I could see . . . but
eighty?
In the naturalistic view, masturbation is a non-issue. The question of consent is irrelevant, because it’s a solo activity. And every one of the urban legends — you’ll go blind, you’ll grow hair on your palms, you’ll make yourself sterile — is nonsense grounded in the ancient distrust of physical pleasure. Because people with a naturalistic worldview are free of the scriptures and traditions that preserve fears about the practice, they can see masturbation for what it is — a healthy, harmless release and expression of our naturally-evolved sexuality. No harm, no foul, no sin. Have fun.
Homosexuality
Nontheists tend to come down solidly on the side of equal rights across the board for gays and lesbians. Why? Because once again, no one is harmed by any sexual relationship between consenting adults, regardless of the genders, races, or anything else that’s involved. What consenting adults do in their own lives is simply none of my business, up to and including sex and marriage.
Although the opposition to gay equality is almost entirely grounded in conservative religion, just as opposition to interracial marriage was half a century ago, supporters of gay equality include religious moderates and nonbelievers. It’s yet another clue that religious moderates have a lot more in common with the nonreligious than they do with fundamentalists.
Thinking about gender
Though gender equality in the developed world has come a long way since the Bronze Age, most of that progress has happened in the last 200 years. Women were considered the property of their husbands in several early cultures, and gender roles and behaviors have been tightly defined for most of Western history. Women weren’t allowed to participate in cultural leadership, were mostly confined to hearth and home, and had few of the human rights that are now taken for granted. Men enjoyed more individual rights but were also confined to their own set of gender roles and behaviors.
The ball that began rolling in the Enlightenment gathered speed in the 19th and 20th centuries. But as with other social advances, progress was opposed at every step by orthodox religion.
Like the liberal religious, those individuals with a naturalistic viewpoint have been better able to adapt to changing gender roles, and in many cases to lead the change. Not coincidentally, most of the major figures in feminism from the beginning have been atheists, agnostics, and others who were free of dogmatic scriptures and traditions. Neither is it surprising that those women pointed straight at those scriptures and traditions as the heart of the problem. “The Bible and the Church have been the greatest stumbling blocks in the way of women’s emancipation,” said Elizabeth Cady Stanton. “The whole tone of Church teaching in regard to women is, to the last degree, contemptuous and degrading.” (See more about feminism and freethought in
Chapter 7
.)
Recognizing that religion has been part of the problem doesn’t mean a naturalistic view is an instant ticket to enlightenment. The organized freethought movement has had to take a hard look in the mirror recently concerning equal treatment for women to be sure the playing field is genuinely level for women in the movement. (Check out
Chapter 14
for more information.) But the fact that freethinkers do so without unhelpful memos from the Bronze Age gives me much more confidence in that process than I’d have otherwise.
Accepting Mortality
My attitude toward death is straightforward: I’m opposed to it. Most people agree with me on that, no matter what they think happens afterward. The greatest challenge of being alive is knowing that someday I won’t be any more. Even worse is the realization that those people I love aren’t immortal either. Two thumbs way down for that.
One way to respond to the difficult fact of mortality is to imagine that we don’t really die after all — we just go somewhere else where we’ll meet up again some day with those we love. I like that idea. But people with a natural worldview don’t think that wishing makes it so. We’d rather meet our situation honestly.
The Greek philosopher Epicurus (refer to Chapters
4
and
11
) said people are mostly afraid of death because they don’t really grasp nonexistence. Humanity has to really grasp that death is the end of experience. “As long as I exist,” he said, “Death does not. Once Death exists, I will not. Why should I fear something I will never experience?”
Not bad.
He also offered the
symmetry argument:
You’re living between two bookends of nonexistence. You didn’t exist for millions of years before you were born, and (to paraphrase Twain) it didn’t inconvenience you a bit. If your nonexistence before birth wasn’t such a terrible thing, your future nonexistence shouldn’t be either. It’s literally the same thing — except for your ability to anticipate the next one. And you’ll continue to live in the memory of those who loved you, and in your accomplishments in this world — especially the ways you made that world better than you found it. That also helps.