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Archive of "scepticism" Category
Flying the Flag
It seems that the Gods / Forces of Coincidence want me to blog, as so many things have been happening lately that have brought me to the same collection of thoughts.
I think the first and most major event was the World Cup. There was something of a minor furore over whether it was Good and/or Right for the flag of England to be flown outside of Number 10, Downing Street in support of the English football team. To those who care about these things, it was somewhat offensive to the other members of the United Kingdom that the largely-resented “dominant” partner in the union was to get its flag flown outside the headquarters of that union.The defence was that, if the Welsh, Scottish, or Northern Irish teams had qualified for the competition then their flags would have been flown also. This is almost certainly true, I would say; it would be insensitive and politically suicidal to operate any other way. Nevertheless, the minor uproar was inevitable. And that is what interested me: why do people get so worked up about these things?
The second was the horrific oil spill in the gulf, and the strange conversation that followed the coverage in the USA. There was talk that BP should be referred to by its acronym and not as “British Petroleum” as this ran the risk of generating ill will toward Britain as a whole. The strangest part, though, was a debate I heard on BBC Radio 2, which asked whether we as the British Public should be criticising the company or defending it. This was not on the basis of its actions, however – the facts of the actual case seem to have been counted as largely irrelevant. No, rather the debate hinged on the fact that it was an (at least nominally) British company. Apparently a lot of British pensioners have money invested in the stocks, for instance.I was surprised, I must admit – in my rather naive way – that this was really so open for debate to people. If a corporation acts in an irresponsible way, or fails to act in a responsible way, then they should be criticised. They should not be deemed worthy of defence purely by virtue of their nationality or the self-interest of stock investments. Is it really so mad to suggest that this approach is totally backwards?
Finally, there came the always-inspiring genius of Bill Hicks. I went to a showing of American: The Bill Hicks Story, a documentary about the great man’s tragically short life, and there was a short clip about the burning of the flag and how extremely people tend to react to that particular form of expression, particularly in the U.S.. It certainly seems that the more vocal incarnations of patriotism that we experience over on this side of the Atlantic are far more widespread on the other. Perhaps this is a false impression, but in a country where children are expected to recite an oath of fidelity to that country, patriotism is certainly taken very seriously indeed.The question that kept occurring to me through all of this is one that first struck me after a throwaway comment on the radio. It may have been a politician commenting on the Downing Street Flag Fiasco, I can’t remember. But the comment was a qualification to the main portion of their argument, and was along the lines of “I’m proud to be British”. This was then joined by other phrases from the same conversation about what nationality people considered themselves: “I’m Scottish first and British second”, for instance, or “I’m English first and foremost”.
I just thought, am I alone in not strongly identifying with the state I was born into? Whether England or the United Kingdom? Am I the only one who feels no compulsion to qualify any sensible, well-reasoned comment with “Of course I’m proud to be British”? I do hope not.
Pride is something that should relate to an achievement, generally speaking. I am proud of some of my writing; I am proud of gaining my degrees at university. I am not proud of an accident of birth. I am happy, to some degree, to be British. Certainly it has afforded me a great deal of advantages simply not available to those in less affluent countries. I am happy that I live in a country that, generally speaking, allows a significant amount of freedom of expression. But I am not proud to be British. I don’t feel that the adjective applies.
I don’t see patriotism as a useful force in the world. What it does in terms of promoting solidarity within a country and a sense of national identity is positively counter-productive in an increasingly global society. The oil spill is the perfect example: almost as much coverage has been given to the international relations aspect as has been given to the fact that it is a disaster on an incredible scale. Why do people care that it’s a nominally British company, when the spill is affecting several states with no regard for national boundaries? I am increasingly convinced that we need to regard ourselves as citizens of the Earth first, with this taking precedence over any national identity we might feel.I leave you with the incisive wit of The Great Hicks…
Grassroots Skeptics
One of the most important, interesting, and downright enjoyable things about the sceptical movement is the grassroots, street-level organisation. So it was with great enthusiasm that I greeted the announcement of Grassroots Skeptics – intended to be a hub for this sort of organisation.At the moment their website can be found here, and you can follow them on Twitter – @GRSkeptics.
It’s a most promising-looking endeavour and should be well worth keeping an eye on.
Pimping complete!
New Sceptic Anthem?
I have heard it said among sceptics and humanists that, lyrically inspiring as it may be, John Lennon’s Imagine is just wearing a little thin. Surely it’s not the only explicitly secular song out there!
Well, I was thinking about this recently, and at least one possible alternative sprang to mind – Queen’s Innuendo. Hardly one of their better-known tracks, written and released very much toward the end of Freddie Mercury’s life (and therefore never performed live), it is nevertheless one of my favourites. Musically, I would argue it is one of their darkest offerings; lyrically, it certainly raises the right questions…While we live according to race, colour, or creed…
While we rule by blind madness and pure greed…
Our lives dictated by tradition, superstition, forced religion…
For eons, and on, and on…[cut]
If there’s a god or any kind of justice under the sky,
If there’s a point, if there’s a reason to live or die,
If there’s an answer to questions we feel bound to ask,
Show yourself, destroy our fears, release your mask!You can listen to the full track here, on Last.fm.
Like Imagine, it’s not what might be called “militant” in its questioning of religion (and believe me there are plenty of examples of that, particularly in the extreme metal fringes). Instead, it is more of a cross between statement/interpretation of fact (in the earlier verse) and a challenge which is likely to simply provoke thoughts in its audience.
What it lacks, of course, is Lennon’s optimistic utopianism. Perhaps this is what people look for in a humanist anthem, which is why they come up short when looking for alternatives. What do you think? Is there a viable alternative to Imagine somewhere out there, just waiting for the masses to discover it and fall in love?
Clarifying Irish Blasphemy
You may have heard, early last month, that Ireland has passed a new law regarding blasphemy. There also seems to be some confusion on the matter – is this a new law, making blasphemy illegal where it was previously not? Or is it perhaps a reform of an older law, which actually reduces the sanction on this offense from prison time to a fine? Either way, atheists and secularists of all stripes are up in arms, and a lot of them seem to be ignorant of the facts. When freethinkers start leaping to the defensive just from the very mention of words such as “blasphemy”, without examining the details, how can we claim the moral high ground? How are we better than fundamentalists? If we are to debate credibly, we need to be able to marshal the facts. This, in my mind, is one of the most important distinguishing aspects of the sceptical and secularist movements.So, what are the facts in this case?
The Irish Constitution requires a law making blasphemy an offense. Such a law was not passed until 1961, but did not satisfactorily define blasphemy – this led to the 1999 Supreme Court ruling that the current law was unenforceable. Instead of amending the constitution to remove the necessity of the law, however (which would require a national referendum), it was decided that it would be easier to enact a law that was enforceable. This passed in early July.
So, in effect, blasphemy is now illegal in Ireland, and while this has apparently always been the case, it is now a cogent and enforeceable law with a specified definition and penalty (and a hefty penalty at that – up to €25,000). It will however likely not be operable until late October, due to necessary modifications in the rules of court to accommodate it. There is a significant campaign to repeal the new law, and indeed it seems that there are good reasons to consider it to be in conflict with the constitution – not to mention the European Convention on Human Rights.
All this information is available at the excellent website Blasphemy.ie, and what is presented here is intended as a summary, attempting to clarify a situation which seems to be widely misunderstood.
So what’s the bottom line here?
Blasphemy is now functionally illegal in Ireland. This is a result of recent legislation which did not introduce it as an offense but rather clarified the law to a point at which it was enforceable. This was ostensibly done to avoid the costs of a referendum – which, as mentioned, would be necessary were Ireland to alter the constitution and remove the need for a blasphemy law. But, as Padraig Reidy points out, a referendum is planned for October on the issue of the Lisbon Treaty (a generally unrelated matter) – so why not save a few Euros and combine the two? And why set the penalty for blasphemy so high? Surely if it were a token law for the sake of convention, it would warrant only a token penalty. Does this perhaps hint at an ulterior motive for enacting the new legislation?I am clearly not in a position to comment on that possibility. Anybody who is would be gratefully welcomed if they cared to enlighten me. Suffice it to say that I have been a little disappointed by the sparse and superficial coverage this story has received – as usual, the reality is a bit more complicated.
To stay updated with this case, head to blasphemy.ie.
A symbol too far?
Just a quick thought today, prompted by the news that over 100,000 people in Britain are seeking to reverse their childhood baptism/christening [via AFP]. I sympathise with them, though I myself was never put through such a farcical abusive ceremony (thanks mum!) – but I can’t help but think that by doing this they are imbuing the ceremonies with far more meaning than they deserve.
If I’m right in thinking that these people want to be de-baptised because they have discovered the enormous unlikeliness of the Christian teachings and would prefer to live their lives as rational beings, then why do they care so much that some old chap mumbled some mumbo-jumbo over them and splashed their foreheads with water when they were kids? Surely their seeking of this piece of paper is demonstrative of their belief that the whole ceremony is completely meaningless. The piece of paper is also meaningless, so why seek it out and pay cash money for it? Why do you care?
I fully support the National Secular Society, and if you’re going to donate money to an organisation and haven’t decided which yet, you could do worse than consider them in your shortlist. But I don’t approve of them selling something which is entirely meaningless. I thought they were against that sort of business.
In an entirely unrelated topic, I will soon be opening up a service for anyone who wants to be declared “Nice”. If you, as a child, were told by a parent or other authoritative adult (perhaps in a costume) that you were on Santa’s “Naughty List”, send me the small sum of £3 and I’ll happily print you off a piece of paper reversing your status as “Naughty” and declaring you “Nice” – for all the world to see.
Fictional Sceptics #6: Star Trek (part 2)
In my previous entry on the matter, I discussed how (early) Star Trek acted as a kind of utopian vision for secular humanism. I also showed that, despite how dated it can seem at times, it was always a highly progressive series – particularly in terms of race and gender equality.
This time, I want to examine the numinous aspects of Star Trek – that is to say, the ways in which it preserved the sense of wonder to an almost spiritual level while remaining secular. It is closely linked to the spirit of scientific discovery, and the kind of excitement exemplified by the likes of Carl Sagan in his Cosmos series, and Phil Plait at a new development or line of research. It is an important aspect of science and scepticism which religious people often claim cannot be found outside of supernatural belief systems.
There are dozens of examples I could use to illustrate this point; it seemed that every other episode of The Next Generation involved the crew investigating, researching or just sightseeing at some interesting nebula, supernova or what have you; sometimes it was the premise of the show, sometimes it was an incidental detail along the way – but it always managed to express that they were explorers and scientists first, experiencing the wonder of the galaxy first-hand.
The particular example I want to use today, however, is a little more complex. Those of you who read my footnote on the post-Roddenberry Star Trek in my previous post will know that I noted a drop in secular humanism as a theme after Gene Roddenberry’s departure. What I’d like to add to that is that subsequent series did seem to be more morally complex than TOS and TNG, and, while they were more accommodating to religion, they rarely – if ever – attributed to it powers that it does not and could not possess.The case of the Prophets of Bajor is a particularly interesting case. Here we have a hugely pervasive religion with a tremendous amount of power over its followers – and incidentally a vehicle through which the series can explore themes relevant to scepticism and religion. The interesting thing is that their “prophets” – spirits or gods, essentially – are real. That is, they are actual beings who reside within the stable wormhole proximate to Bajor.
It is interesting to note the contrast in reactions between the Starfleet personnel and the Bajoran clergy (for want of a better term) to the scientific discoveries made in the wormhole. Both are awestruck, but that’s where the similarities end. The officers, Sisko in particular, are desperate to know more about the wormhole and the beings that reside within in it – from what little they already know, the wormhole is stable because it was constructed by the aliens, and the aliens themselves do not experience a “linear existence” as we do, and thus have no concept of time. The Bajorans remain steadfast in their dogma, though at first it seems that the two can coexist – the spiritual definition of the prophets, and the scientific explanation of them.
But when a religious controversy springs up about the teaching of science in school, the tensions become clear. The question is asked as to why the station’s single school is teaching only about the science of the wormhole and not the spiritual dimensions acknowledged by the Bajorans (a majority of the students, it should be noted). The teacher is adamant that only the science will be taught, and that the school is not a suitable place for spiritual instruction. It’s a great parallel to the evolution/creationism debate.But to get back to my point, at no time does it seem that there is less wonder and beauty to be found through the scientific perspective as opposed to the religious one. Indeed, it seems as if the religious people, having caught a glimpse of the truth, immediately shut their eyes so as to preserve that glimmer of wonder, and, having instilled it with all their hopes and expanded it with their imaginations, are unwilling to then open their eyes and see the truth of the wonders – which is no less amazing.
The best thing about post-Roddenberry Star Trek is that it becomes more complex in terms of morality and personalities, and therefore far more relevant to the real world. It is no longer a Utopia, but perhaps more of a realistic cultural extrapolation of where humanity might find itself a few centuries from now.
Scepticism and Denial
During an interview on Point of Inquiry with Kendrick Frazier, the editor of The Skeptical Inquirer, I was interested to hear him address a point on what is often called “denialism”. This is the phenomenon whereby someone who has grave doubts about a certain doctrine or set of facts is labelled a “denier”, such as with holocaust denial, climate change denial, or vaccine denial. It is a point of annoyance for many freethinkers like myself that these deniers are given, by themselves and others, the epithet “sceptic” (so a climate change denier becomes a climate change sceptic and so forth).
Surely, though, that’s what they are – to some degree at least. They are “sceptical” of the claims made by those who believe climate change is real, or that the holocaust did happen, in so much as they doubt the claims. It is, as is so often the case, a matter of definition. In common parlance, there is nothing wrong with calling these people sceptics – it is much more usually seen as a position of doubt than as an attitude toward inquiry and evidence. But when the context of the conversation changes, and scepticism takes on its newer meaning with which readers of this blog will be familiar, it is no longer appropriate to refer to them in those terms.
The new meaning of sceptic, which has its origin in the U.S. with figures such as Carl Sagan and James Randi, is associated not with denial or promotion of particular doctrines, but rather an outlook. This outlook is one of free-thought, rational discourse and unbiased inquiry, and it is therefore a mistake to associate it primarily with doubt alone. Under this definition, those who oppose the ideas of climate change and the holocaust, for instance, should by no means be named as sceptics. Their minds are not open to the evidence, and their position is not flexible, as that of any good sceptic (under this definition) should be.
What they do is far more accurately described as “denial” than “scepticism”, so I agree with Kendrick Frazier that they should be referred to in this way. It is all part and parcel of the process to stake a claim on the word “sceptic”, and turn it into something far more positive than the curmudgeonly, narrow-minded, blind denial with which it is still too often associated in everyday contexts. Will this endeavour ever bear fruit, and is it worth it? Those are questions for another day. For now, it is enough to remember, whenever you hear someone referred to as a “sceptic” with respect to a particular issue, to ask whether the word “denier” would be a more accurate description.
Point of Empathy
It was with a certain sense of anticipation that I read a recent entry on Skepchick, entitled My Confession. Not because I thought it was finally Rebbecca declaring her secret crush on me, but because there had been rumblings that Elyse would be telling the tale of her time as a phone psychic. It did not disappoint; what followed was sad, fascinating, and heartbreaking. Go read it now, because if you don’t then I’m talking to the wall – this post was entirely inspired by that one.
Usually when I hear something like that, I search for what might be called a point of empathy: something in my own life which I can use to relate to what’s going on in the other person’s life. In this case, the loss of her sister brought a comparison with the loss of my father, 6 years ago. Did I cope in the same or similar way that Elyse was trying to? My immediate reaction was no – I didn’t consciously turn to anything for comfort initially. But then I remembered the Wicca Incident, and realised my story of loss may have a lot more in common with Elyse’s than I had first thought.It started, as these things so often do, with my girlfriend at the time (she will naturally remain anonymous here, but for the sake of all those potentially abused pronouns and synonyms, let’s call her Alicia. I will not be speculating on her motivations). She was far more spiritual than I was, but being as I was young and in love, it didn’t stay that way for long. I’ve always been fascinated by mythology and magic, so it was perhaps only natural that when spiritualism came calling, it was in the form of Wicca. Normally I would just take an interest, and study it objectively; but Alicia was of the belief that to fully understand you had to experience first-hand. So we became Wiccans.
It was only a matter of time before I applied my new faith in the supernatural (and hopelessly vague) concept of “energy” and some kind of spirit world to the recent loss of my father (for anyone interested in the chronology, Alicia and I started our relationship around 7 months after my father’s death; the Wicca came a month or two after that). It was the first time I’d truly dealt with the emotions of it, and I don’t know if it was the belief system or just having someone that close to me to confide in, but I finally cried. 8 or 9 months after his death, I finally started mourning for him. I will always be indebted to Alicia for that, at least.It was the ouija board that finally did it. While I hadn’t heard of the ideomotor effect, I was fairly certain that ouija boards involved some trickery, be it conscious or not. Yet somehow Alicia convinced me that we had contacted the spirit of my father, and that it would be a good idea to go tell my mum this bit of news. I will never forget her reaction, and we haven’t spoken of it since – and not in one of those “unspoken agreement” things. She actually told me that we would never mention it again. I try not to have any regrets in my life – but it’s hard to think of this incident any other way. Is it possible to feel ashamed but not count it as a regret?
I wouldn’t go so far as to say that this was what set me on the path to what I now recognise as scepticism; like Elyse, I was already heading that way anyway – mostly because of a secular, open-minded upbringing. But I think this was when I first realised the harm that these practices can cause. My heart was no longer in the Wicca, and I gave it up completely when I split with Alicia; the only thing I kept was the name I created for myself and which I now use as my internet pseudonym.
It is because of this episode in my life that I feel able to empathise with people who turn to spiritualism and pseudoscience in order to cope with the loss of a loved one. I can also empathise with those who find it wanting. I am ashamed of what happened, yes, but I do not regret it; because, after the complex interplay of cause and effect had woven their magic, it turns out to have been another push along the road to scepticism and rationality. I cannot regret anything that has brought me here.
Asking the Question
There was recently an utterly fantastic post on Skepchick which hit the nail on the head in far too many ways to mention:
My instinct is that if we just keep on being ourselves, unapologetically, things will change. I think things are changing, but socialized norms are tricky things to overcome. Also I think it is crucial that we talk about these things. Making skeptics of all genders examine critically how they think about these issues can only help root out previously unrecognized stereotypes and prejudices, and, hopefully, lead to a more diverse movement.
The comment thread very much does justice to the quality of the original entry, which is unsurprising – Skepchick is always a great source of open, intelligent debate. One comment did remind me of something which I would like to share with you all; you may have seen it already – it did the rounds on the internet a little while ago – but it cannot be viewed too many times. If you needed more convincing that Joss Whedon is a man worth his weight in gold, hearken ye well:
Home Turf
Yes, dear reader, you’re getting treated to another of my regular helpings of “Why philosophy is great”. I’m sure you’re suitably thrilled at this prospect.
There is a school of thought within philosophy (generally Wittgensteinian if you’re interested) which argues that the most (perhaps the only) important contribution philosophy can make to real life is the diagnosis and treatment of misunderstandings, particularly those caused by language. There are many possible examples of this, such as subjective definitions of “proof”, “knowledge”, “belief”, etc.
As an illustrative anecdote from my own life, I occasionally have arguments (not rows; series of progressive statements intended to establish a consensus) with my dear mother about – amongst other topics – alternative medicine. Toward the end of one such discussion, I made note of the fact that we actually agreed, despite appearances. This was because I had noticed that we were simply operating on different definitions of the word “work”; when considering what it is for a treatment to “work”, she includes the placebo effect and I do not. Aside from this, we were making entirely the same points and agreeing throughout; once I pointed out this fundamental misunderstanding, the discussion was less confrontational.I believe there is a misunderstanding at the core much of the antagonism between science and religion, and it is what will always happen when a naturally rational being attempts to justify their irrational beliefs in rational terms. There is nothing wrong with irrational beliefs, as long as one accepts that they are irrational; as soon as you start trying to justify (for example) your belief in a deity on empirical grounds, you invite, if not outright ridicule, at least a sound defeat in rational debate.
God and all metaphysical phenomena lie outside empirical perception – that is why they’re called metaphysical. There is no point looking for evidence because the very (supposed) nature of these things denies the possibility of evidence. All attempts to prove the existence of deities on purely logical grounds, too, have failed miserably and laughably. The fact that claims of the supernatural are exclusively beyond the purview of rational science means that there is a huge gulf separating them from it. Irrationality should never try to justify itself on rational grounds – its very nature precludes success.This is why I believe religion should be kept on the personal level; as long as it does no harm and doesn’t pretend to be rational, I have no problem with it – but society as a whole cannot afford to be irrational.
The only time that science and religion should engage each other is when one is attempting to pass itself off as the other. I won’t lie here – it’s (almost?) always religion trying to pass itself off as science; because guess what? They think that seeming rational and basing their beliefs on empirical evidence is a desirable trait – cognitive dissonance anyone? The current classic example of this is creationism (a completely irrational belief if ever there was one) trying to pass itself off as science under the guise of Intelligent Design. Apparently there are those who believe that irrationality has a place in science classrooms; this is exactly when science and the rational community should defend with every argument at our disposal, and keep the irrational separate.
The divide between religion and science is identical with the divide between rationality and irrationality. As long as you keep them separate, all is well. But cross over from one to the other and you’ve got a fight on your hands.
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