Just Atheists

by Brian J. Sabel

I don’t think it’s completely out of line to conjecture that a large proportion of the American population believes that “you atheists are all alike.” Frankly, I think we’re hard-wired to make these kinds of overgeneralizations. Ah, but only if it were that easy! If atheists were, in fact, “all alike,” we might see some semblance of consensus in the atheist community – something we seem to have far too little of. Herding cats, anyone?

In my estimation, atheists seem to split into two distinct, and frequently antagonistic, factions. In one corner we have what I will call the Joiners. These are the atheists who do not view themselves as any different than their religious counterparts except that they happen to believe in one fewer god. This group wants to exemplify their commonalities with their community members and seek consensus with persons of differing religious views. This group views a pervasively religious society as a fact of life in which to which the atheist must adapt.

In the other corner we have the Converters. These atheists see themselves as different from religious persons by virtue of the fact that they have thrown off the yoke of religion. They strive to boldly differentiate themselves from the religious and point out the inherent weaknesses in religious thought. They see a pervasively religious society as an illness to be cured by unseating religion in the minds of the masses.

These, of course, are convenient overgeneralizations and many atheists may fall somewhere in between these two descriptions. Further, I may have overlooked some important distinctions. However, my point is that two distinct schools of thought seem to motivate most atheists. What roles do these two perspectives play in the atheist community? Is there room for both? Why do the two find themselves so frequently at odds?

by Brian J. Sabel

Generally I try not to be a complainer but this one really got to me:

Atheist activist Rob Sherman was testifying before the Illinois legislature regarding the issue of state funding for church building rehabilitation when Rep. Monique Davis (D - Chicago) tore into him for his atheism. Among other shocking comments, she said, “[I]t’s dangerous for our children to even know that your philosophy exists!” And later ordered, “Get out of that seat! You have no right to be here!” Fortunately, Mr. Sherman refused to yield. Listen for yourself here.

Sometimes I feel like I’m being dramatic when I mention the generally negative attitude the public has about atheists. But when a relatively high-profile politician can say these kinds of things without a firestorm of criticism and hardly a peep from the press I have to wonder if it’s even worse than I thought.

Special thanks to the Council for Secular Humanism for the lead.

by Brian J. Sabel

No, not “Death to Atheists” - “Death as interpreted by an atheist,” silly!

Religious people frequently question me about death when they discover that I am an atheist. A common question is, “What happens when we die?” My frank answer is, “Nothing. We just cease existing.” The question presupposes the existence of a soul - a concept I reject. Instead I believe that what we know as a “soul” is actually an extremely complex network of natural inclinations and environmental influences. In short, this life is all we get.

Many faithful see this as a very bleak way to view our lives. Without the rewards of the afterlife, they say, our lives on earth have no value or meaning. They often view my rejection of a belief in an afterlife as a cynical and nihilistic view which robs humankind of our best qualities. They could not be more wrong. And, in fact, I feel that my view elevates the value of human life beyond the capacity of a religious view.

The finite nature of our lives compels me to believe that each life is unique, valuable, and irreplaceable. When a person dies she is gone and we will never get her back. The consequence of this belief is that I love the people around me very deeply because I recognize how precious they are and how fortunate I am to experience their lives - they could be gone from me so quickly.

To be sure, the idea that we will see our loved ones in the afterlife is comforting. But my belief in our temporariness is a constant reminder that I can never take my loved ones for granted in this life.

by Brian J. Sabel

Okay, let me start by saying that I am not a parent and am probably not even remotely qualified to address this subject. I suspect I’m setting myself up for some severe criticism, but here goes!

If you know very many atheist parents you have probably heard at least one of them say something like this: “I don’t want to impose my beliefs on my child so I just don’t talk about it. My child can make her own conclusions.” I have generally found this position to be reasonable and even prudent until very recently. And this is where I go out on the limb:

You’ve probably heard the public service announcement which says something like, “If you don’t talk to your kids about drugs, someone else will,” at which point a thuggish looking man steps up and makes an offer. The thrust of the PSA is that parents who do not discuss the dangers of drugs and how to deal with offers of drugs fail to prepare their children to make good decisions about drugs. Can the same be said about religion? By avoiding the topic of religion do we cede that facet of their lives to the door-to-door evangelists of the future?

I do not mean to imply that we should teach our children to believe that religion is inherently evil and that atheism is the ultimate truth. Firstly, most of us don’t believe in such an overly-simplistic view of religion. Secondly, it would rob the child of the same nuanced critical thinking skills we were trying to teach her in the first place. But the reality is that a classmate may ask your child to join her at a church retreat. To what extent and in what ways do you prepare her to deal with the things she will hear there?

by Brian J. Sabel

Many people insist that atheism is not a religion. And in the traditional conception of religion (i.e., belief in and worship of a supreme being, for example) I agree. However, I feel that our current definition of religion implies a deference and confers a legitimacy to religion which unfairly works to exclude other viewpoints that serve the same functions as religion for many people. Specifically, of course, I refer to atheism.

In what way, if any, does atheism resemble religion? In order to get there I think we must call a spade a spade. Adherents to religion claim to know what is true when it comes to the supernatural. And most of society is content to let them make that claim. However, humans act within the confines of bounded rationality: we can only know so much and, therefore, we do the best we can with incomplete information. So why is it that when a religious person says, “I know there is a god,” we say, “Oh, okay.” But if an atheist says, “I have serious doubts there is a god,” it’s just her opinion.

Let me give you a rather ridiculous example. I wrote the first draft of this blog entry with a pen. I feel comfortable saying, “That is my pen,” and living my life accordingly. But it’s possible that, unbeknownst to me, someone swapped my pen for an identical pen. In that instance, I was writing with someone else’s pen. Further, it may not be a pen at all. Maybe it’s some kind of crazy alien transmitter thingy designed to appear and function like a pen to prevent detection.

Similarly, when people make religious assertions, they do so subject to their own bounded rationality. Some are unaware of the limitations of their bounded rationality. Others deny the effect of those bounds. But this does not change the reality that religious persons (like all of us) make decisions and assertions with incomplete information. It is no different than may alien transmitter pen. However, we are told that a belief in a supernatural being should be immune to rational criticism and it is labeled “religion.”

But is a disbelief in a supernatural being not very similar in nature? It is a position on the existence or nonexistence of a supreme being taken within the confines of bounded rationality. When approached from this angle, is there any reason atheism should be treated differently than a “mainstream” religion? I argue that to treat the two differently lends an undeserved legitimacy to the assertions of those who claim to be ruled by a supreme being.

“Fatally powerful as religious systems have been, human nature is stronger and wider than religious systems….” George Eliot

I reject religion as a yardstick to measure ideas. Doing so looks at the issues backwards – human behavior explains religion, not vice versa. However, for my first post I thought I should explain where I stand on religion so that I do not have to constantly address the relevance of religion on any given topic. To be sure, religion has been given a free pass on issues of ethics and morality. The assertions of the religious and the claim they stake on ethics and morality deserve vigorous challenge. However, to do so here would present a never-ending distraction from our primary objective – discussion of ethics from the perspective of an atheist.

So does religious thought play any role in the formation of human ethics? As a human invention, religious thought cannot guide us to an understanding of human behavior. In fact, religion actually hampers this understanding. At best religion is a cop-out which allows a person to rely on blind acceptance of religious teachings rather than truly scrutinizing her or his beliefs. At worst it is a distraction which complicates honest examination of ethics and morality by injecting overly-simplistic and inconsistent ideals into the process.

My goal is to look past the smoke screen which religion places between us and our understanding of the world to identify the real sources of human behavior. This has been done before by thinkers far more intelligent than I! However, I write not as a thinker but as an average Joe who is genuinely interested in these issues. I invite you to join me (and criticize me!) as I explore these issues and their effectiveness in giving meaning to our lives.