The inimitably refined Michael Long and I were having a conversation about atheism — specifically, conversion experiences and conditions and so forth. Michael (who, apropos of nothing, happens to be one of the most thoughtful young men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know), observed that a catalyst of some sort was always or almost-always required for/in a conversion experience. He went on to opine:
“I think the human mind usually take the path of least resistance. If there is no conflict, internal or external, why change one's opinion? (in most cases).”
Which got me thinking.
It’s obviously true, in a general way: that humans, like all life-forms produced by natural selection — like basically all natural processes, really — follow this path-of-least-resistance policy. But of course, one unique feature of the human mind is our capacity to self-generate resistance — our creativity — the extent (sometimes slight, sometimes not) to which our "reality" is a matter of perception, of ideology. For example, so many of us who self-identify as “atheist,” it seems, have these notions like "rationality" and/or "evidence" stuck in our heads, to the extent that they become moral values — elements of conscience, really — that sting us when we fall short and (equally importantly) give us pleasure when we attain. No rocket science here; it’s the way that any ideal operates, in us atheists no differently than in the most ardent theist. We simply have different Jesuses, as it were. We share, with some Christians, “Jesuses” (ideals) about charity, compassion and human value. With others not: a small number of Ayn-Rand-type atheists don’t share these egalitarian humanist ideals, and many theists don’t. Where we most differ is in regard to science and evidentiary reason as ideals rather than intuition, tradition or personal or (most of all) scriptural authority.
It’s true, isn’t it? Ardent atheists don’t become so out of habit, any more so than ardent theists do. They’re both costly philosophical orientations to occupy. They’re hardly paths of least resistance; we ardent a/theists constantly encounter all sorts of resistance, as any ardent theist or atheist would easily tell you. We maintain these a/theistic commitments, of course, out of allegiance to these more basic ideals: allegiances to evidentiary reasoning and science for atheists, and allegiances to scripture and priestly authority for theists.
If that’s so, maybe an effective way to proselytize atheism is not to address theism directly, as we so often tend to do, but rather to promote these other sorts of values: rationalism, realism, respect for evidence, respect for science. Plant THOSE in a mind and they'll do their work, of their own accord and in their own time. So often — I feel safe in saying almost always — this isn’t at all how we atheists proselytize. Instead, we take our value-premises for granted, and assuming them, launch critiques of theistic behavior: “ha ha Belief X is so irrational; ha ha Belief Y is so woefully contradicted by science …”
This should be familiar to any atheist; she could fill in these Xs and Ys with dozens of particulars. It’s our bread and butter. And hopefully it would annoy atheists to realize that it’s no different than the proselytizing strategies of our theist opponents: they start from unquestioned basic value premises about scriptural and pastoral authority and critique us, as we do them, for being wildly out-of-line with the premise.
So to repeat the practical call to arms, then, with a thought experiment. What if we herded cats in the atheist/agnostic segment of society — an expanding segment, today, according to news reports — what if, overnight, we quit playing “gotcha” games and party politics and instead made a concerted and constant case for the basic values that bind us together? Ideals about evidentiary reasoning and the adequacy of science to explain basic natural processes? I mean, who among us, theist or atheist, wouldn’t at least verbally endorse such ideals? OF COURSE it’s common that people actually DON’T — that in practice they DON’T accept that an argument with 10 pieces of evidence supporting it “beats,” in some very real way, an argument with one piece of evidence supporting it. OF COURSE irrationality is as common in mainstream American culture as the common cold (and similarly viral); there are instances of it in our headlines every day: of Birthers, of Hussein (or the CIA) behind 9/11, of god sending hurricanes to Florida to kill gays, of “keep government out of my Medicare,” of “evolution is ‘just’ (like everything in science) a theory,” of every word that comes out of Sarah Palin’s mouth. Irrationality is becoming (or, I think, has become) the lingua franca of American culture, of course — in practice. But in theory, everyone knows this is wrong. Atheists and theists alike. It’s too basic; it’s too obvious that, ultimately, irrationality will get you killed. Jump off a building and you’ll fall. Print money and you’ll have inflation. Pray to cure disease and you’ll stay sick. If I had a nickel for every so-called theist I meet who says “Yeah, but of course I believe in science” I’d be rich, and if I had one for every theist who said “No, I deny that reasons or evidence have any validity” I’d be broke.
If we all stopped making fun of the CONSEQUENCES of religious belief and instead promoted our better premises — premises which almost all theists themselves at least pay lip service to — would that make a difference? It certainly might, no? Imagine how many people could get on board: every fence-sitter, every wishy-washy spiritual-but-not-religious agnostic deist, every rational adult. The challenge, for atheists, is to shift the conversation: not just to focus on and promote the ideals of “evidentiary reason and a respect for scientific explanations of physical phenomena” — what a mouthful! — but to find the better terminology to name these things, these secular and damn-near-universal ideals, these Jesuses. Simple names to name concepts that everyone, in some basic way, understands and embraces. And heck, maybe a logo, too, and why not! Logos work: cross, star, crescent, yin-yang.
So let’s talk terminology.
I think it’s safe if not obvious to say that we as a free-thinking community have made, thus far, very few attempts to do this, and that those attempts (like Dawkins’ red “A”) have failed. The short-hand almost all of us use for our beliefs — “a-theism” or “non-theism” — also fails, for obvious reasons: it’s a perfect enactment of the problem of defining ourselves according to the wrong level of the conversation, i.e. to theism rather than to evidentiary reason and natural science. “Scientism” was a popular term for a while, back in the late 19th and early 20th century, but it came to mean a fetishistic, positivist view of science and thus (rightly) fell out of favor. “Reason”-based terms like “rationalist” and “rationalism” were also popular throughout the 18th-20th centuries, but came to mean different and often utterly contradictory things — in large part because they were never consistently wedded to the very particular and concrete Enlightenment concept of an evidentiary reason wedded to natural-scientific explanations of physical phenomena. Today, “scientist” is a professional affiliation, and the term “reason” is as likely to appear as an insult (as in “to rationalize,” i.e. to generate false or irrelevant reasons for something) as a compliment (“rational”). And of course there’s the 18th century’s lovely sounding “free-thinker,” which a lot of us love because it sounds so nice — and it too utterly fails, since it a) means nothing and b) doesn’t refer, again, to the central premises (reason & science) that ground it.
But make no mistake, fellow free-thinkers: it’s that same old mantra — respect for evidentiary reason and respect for scientific explanations of physical phenomena, two methods working inseparably — that’s our Jesus. And if we’re going to get traction in the public sphere and save our culture from its descent into insane, anything-goes irrationalism, we had goddamn well better find some way to “nail the concept,” as they say in advertising, of that mantra. So what’s it to be? “Scientific rationalism”? That certainly hits the concept, but it’s hardly a nail. “Hi, I’m a scientific rationalist.” People in years past have often tried to use “realist” and “naturalist” as simpler or catchier stand-ins, but again, the problem with those sharper nails is that they miss the concept. Theists are damn sure realists: realists who realistically base their beliefs on the premise of a real god who really wrote the blah blah blah. And “nature”-derived terms were too nature-bound and thus easily morphed into “naturalism” (the false premise that physical nature = moral good) or “naturalist” (one who loves trees and plants).
What’s in a name? Maybe it’s not important. “Christian” and “Taoist” and “Buddhist” nail their concepts, but “Jew” and “Muslim” don’t. Maybe the name doesn’t matter, and what instead matters is the intellectual cohesion of the group — the extent to which its members clearly see their uniting premises and can simply and effectively communicate them — to each other and to others. History would indicate that that’s how it works: that the community of belief comes first and the name gets applied post-facto. If that’s so, then maybe the unlovely term “scientific, evidentiary rationalist” is fine, and catchy nicknames unimportant. Regardless: scientific, evidentiary reason had better be something that we “atheists” or “free-thinkers” or “what-you-will” can understand and talk about as clearly and as compellingly as a Christian saying “Jesus loves you and died for your sins” — whatever the hell THAT, when you think about it, means.
You’d think that, in comparison to the cross-eyed mollycoddle of theology, we’d have been better able, by now, to make a more persuasive case in the public sphere. We haven’t, I think, because we’re making a case for basic notions that are already obvious and accepted by most human beings. Perversely, it’s precisely the absurd falsity of theological premises that makes them so easy to frame. Compare the statement “all motion in the universe is relative to the speed of light” to “everything’s relative”: one’s a profoundly true statement about space and time pretty much anywhere in the universe, and is also meaningless to most people; the other’s meaningless hogwash and makes perfect sense. Our challenge as atheists/freethinkers/&c. is that we have to take a similarly profoundly true and universal (in human experience) concept and express it, if we’re going to do more than preach to the choir, and express it in terms that everyone can understand.
So here's my proposal. It's horrible, but it's a starting place. I propose "scientific evidentiary rationalism" as, if not a movement nickname or anything anyone would use to self-identify, then merely a concise way to express "our" (if I may presume) fundamental uniting premises. How would I explain this "scientific evidentiary rationalism" to the average whomever? I'd say:
Ha! Yeah, I'm a "scientific evidentiary rationalist," I guess, and you know what? I'll bet you are too. No, really. Yes, it's a mouthful -- but it's just a complicated and precise name for something very simple: a three-part way of thinking. About anything, really. Those three "parts" are premises -- basic, fundamental assumptions. It means they're ideals -- that they're true, or OUGHT to be, of everything we say. And they're simply that:
1. "Scientific." We accept that scientific explanations are the right way to explain physical phenomena. All this means is that, if something happens in the physical world -- the world of stuff made from particles and chemicals -- then scientific methods are the right methods to use to talk about that stuff. Example:
If Joe says that the theory of evolution by natural selection is wrong and basically everyone in the life sciences (biology, geology, etc.) says it's right, Joe's wrong, and the only way he'll ever be right is to prove his case in the life-sciences community. Period.
2. "Evidentiary." We accept that you can't just make up reasons for something and expect anyone to accept those reasons. You have to give evidence to support them. Example:
Joe says "Humans never landed on the Moon; it was faked." We ask for his evidence; he says: "I don't know; I read that somewhere." In the meantime, we can provide TONS of hard physical evidence (see Rule #1) that the Apollo missions were real and that people really did walk (and hit golf balls) on the Moon. Until Joe comes up with MORE evidence than ours, he's wrong. Period.
3. "Rationalism." We accept another notion, so basic it's often overlooked: that yes, you really do have to provide reasons to support claims you make! You can't just make a claim and expect people to accept it without your saying why it's true. This hardly needs an example, but here it is:
Joe says "The Moon's made of cheddar cheese." We say: What makes you say that, Joe? Joe frowns. "I don't have to give you reasons. What I say is so. You're wrong if you disagree and you're wrong to demand reasons from me." Joe's a jerk, period.
It's just two concepts, really -- or ought to be, since if you accept the necessity of "evidence," then "reason" should go without saying. Another way to put it might be:
1. Feeling that one owes evidence to support one’s claims rather than accepting “whatever” — i.e. “fuck you” — as valid reasoning.
2. Relying on scientific explanations for physical phenomena rather than accepting “I haven’t learned, therefore it’s not so.”
That's what I'd say! Or something along those lines. And there, I've said it.
