Why I'm an atheist, Part 3: Science & Certainty

In Part 2 I discussed the notion that the moral codes on which we actively collaborate are better suited to our way of life than those handed down from ancient times which are supposedly divinely inspired.

But why am I so certain that there is no deity giving us these moral mandates in the first place, you might ask. Well here's one more thing that I'm not saying when I say I'm an atheist: I'm not claiming to know with absolute certainty that there is no god or other supernatural entity in the universe. Maybe that sounds more like what you'd call agnosticism, but the fact of the matter is that the ideas of “atheism” and “agnosticism” are not mutually exclusive, and in fact most people who identify as atheists are also agnostics. The latter term is an acknowledgment that our knowledge of such matters will never be perfect. And at least in my case, it's an embracing of the logical methods of science as the best way to make statements about the nature of the universe. Science doesn't claim to know anything with absolute certainty, but its methods are the way to ensure that we're as close to the truth as is humanly possible. Science breaks a situation down to its constituent parts and makes sure we give each one due consideration before drawing any conclusions. 
 

Why I'm an atheist, Part 2: Morality & Law

In the previous post I shared an overview of my personal experiences with religion and atheism. In this post and those following, I'll get into some of the particulars of my views on religion.

So I'm an atheist—what exactly does that mean? Well the average religious person may not call themself a “theist,” but that's the applicable term; it describes someone who believes in a god or gods and/or practices a religion. So when you add the “a-” it literally means something like “without a god” or “without religion.” And that does describe me: I don't believe in the existence of any deities or other supernatural entities or forces, nor do I practice anything that might be described as a religion.

But here are some things I'm not saying when I say I'm an atheist (starting with the most ridiculous). Atheism is not devil-worship. Devils and demons are considered just as non-existent to atheists as are gods and angels. Atheists also don't hate god (or at least the intellectually honest ones don't), because you can't hate something that you don't think exists. If someone says they're an atheist but they say they hate god, they're probably just an angry theist and not an atheist, unless they're speaking purely figuratively. Atheists are not inherently amoral. Sure, we've got our share of assholes just like any other demographic, but their being bad people comes from within them, not the fact that they're atheists. If someone comes right out and claims that atheism gives them a reason or the right to be an asshole, then they're almost certainly a moron in addition to being a jerk.

Why I'm an atheist, Part 1: A History

Over on his popular blog Pharyngula PZ Myers has asked for submissions on the topic of "Why I am an atheist." He's gotten enough of a response that he posts one every day, picked at random. The following is what I submitted. It's basically a summary of my experiences with religion and atheism in my life. In Part 2 I'll discuss the particulars of my outlook.

Why I'm an atheist 

If I had to put one reason above all the others, it'd probably be dinosaurs.

I absolutely loved dinosaurs as a preschooler and kindergartener (and still do, though perhaps not so obsessively). Any worldview presented to me that didn't include dinosaurs and their epic reign over the Earth was doomed to fail. But my interest in those ancient beasts was also the seed of a passion for and understanding of science in general. From a young age, the fact that dinosaurs lived tens and hundreds of millions of years ago was an almost mundane matter of fact. And even if I didn't really understand the methods, I could at least see that scientists presented arguments for assertions such as the age of rock strata that seemed to be based in the real world.

Perhaps because it had to compete with things as obviously awesome as dinosaurs, religion never appealed to me in any way. When I was young we went to a Methodist church somewhat regularly. But all the words just sort of bounced off me. I'd love to claim that it was because I was some sort of precocious, incredulous youth, but what I really think it came down to was that I just didn't give a shit. Attending church was a chore. The stories weren't interesting. There were times when I'd notice that the other kids in Sunday School seemed to have committed some of the stories to memory, and even seemed to think they were pretty important. And I'd wonder if perhaps I should feel that way too, but in the end they'd still just be a bunch of stories about shepherds and their sheep, and any motivation instantly evaporated.

Another great cover and original

I've been listening to both versions of this song incessantly in the past few days. I think both deserve appreciation, so I've been considering the order in which I should embed them so as to foster such a reaction. I've decided to post them in the order in which I discovered them, starting with the cover version.

It's the first video released as part of Ingrid Michaelson's side-project Army of 3:

I love Ingrid, and I'll probably post some more stuff from her in the future. And dear god, that little look she gives just after the 2 minute mark sorta turns me into a giggly pile of stupid.

And here's the original by Gotye (nekkid people but no naughty bits, but still probably NSFW):

Both have a great sound to them. I really like that the original is a duet—it makes things a lot less black-and-white, and thus more interesting.

The poison of "one true love"

A little while back I came across this image through StumbleUpon:

Now I'm the sort of person who could maybe be labelled as a romantic (perhaps even of the hopeless sort), but I can't stand cheesy crap so I'm immediately frustrated by this sort of thing. But this example in particular grated on me because I thought it spoke to and perpetuated a damaging belief that so many people seem to have about love. (It also grated on me because of its asinine punctuation. Period or ellipsis? YOU HAVE TO CHOOSE.) Being in the mood for a debate, I brought my grievances to Facebook. I linked to the above image and declared that anyone who preoccupied themself with the sort of fairytale BS it was peddling would be setting themself up for a lot of unhappiness. What followed was a pretty great conversation, but I don't think I made my points as well as I could have, so I'll try to make things clearer here.

New Year's

In the past, New Year's Eve has been among my least favorite holidays. Maybe it's the fact that it has to follow Christmas's act, maybe it's the fact that the much-lauded "ball drop" will never live up to my childhood interpretation of an actual drop of the giant glass ball from a significant height, presumably to shatter into a million pieces on the ground. The whole ordeal has always just seemed anti-climactic: you're back together with all the long-lost loved ones you haven't seen since the week before, and the excitement either seems forced or just alcohol-induced. And as a pedantic little twerp, I've also always taken issue with the arbitrary concept of the date on which the "new" year begins, and the human-centric practice of measuring time by our own little planet's revolutions.

But I've recently been looking at the holiday in a new light, fueled by my ponderings of what sort of winter holiday I might celebrate with my hypothetical family someday. Celebrating Christmas can be enjoyable, but not only am I an atheist but I also have no desire to lie to my kids about Santa, either. So I need something else to fill the space (a family-oriented, gift-giving winter holiday seems to go much deeper into human tradition than just Christian tradition, and in the US, school is conveniently off for the week). There are plenty of options based around the solstice, but I'm no more pagan than I am Christian or Jewish, so that wouldn't feel any more appropriate for me.

But what I've begun to think about is perhaps a multi-night New Year celebration, with gift-giving. Despite my previous lack of enthusiasm for New Year's, it is satisfactorily secular, and if it were to stand on its own instead of following Christmas--while absorbing some of that holiday's significance--I think it could fill the space nicely. A large part of Christmas (at least from my point of view) is already about celebrating another year spent with loved ones. My lingering pedantry was still making me wonder how enthusiastic I'd be able to get about the New Year concept in general, though, until I saw this awesome comic on the subject from the blog Storyboards..

Click here to read the whole thing

That extension of the celebration to all of humanity and life in general totally won me over. While the "start" date of the year is of course still entirely arbitrary, the celebration of a new revolution seems a lot more meaningful in that light. Not only can it be an appreciation for the passage of time in the company of loved ones, it can also be a recognition of the great cosmic fortune enjoyed by life on Earth, including our own species. You could even see the celebration of a(n approximately) 365-day year as recognition of our position in our star's habitable zone. And like the comic says, instead of making the same, traditionally self-absorbed New Year's resolutions, we could instead make resolutions on behalf of humanity and life in general.

As for how exactly to signify and celebrate this new conglomeration of holidays, I'm still deciding. I don't want to get too caught up in things and start inventing all sorts of new traditions, since we can see how that's worked out for Christmas. Every year that celebration seems more and more centered on the fluff than the philosophy. I don't want my mongrel holiday to devolve into a preoccupation of a certain type of decoration or a seemingly innocuous story that comes to overshadow the original intent; I want it to stay grounded in reality and a simple appreciation of love, friendship, our fellow human beings, and all life.

I think general winter-themed decorations would work: snowmen, snowflakes, and the like. And while I can't stand the gaudy and overdone outdoor light and decoration displays that bring some people enjoyment, I do think simple white lights used smartly can be incredibly gorgeous, and could totally get behind that. As for a Christmas tree- or Menorah-analogous centerpiece, I'm still not sure. It's nice to have a simple symbol to summarize the sentiment of a holiday, but I hesitate to include for the reasons I listed above; I don't want the focus to shift to the symbol itself. But I have plenty of time yet to figure out that, and all the other details. And so far I'm pretty excited about the whole concept.

What do you think?

If he asks you to tickle him, don't.