Jump to content


The Problem with Religious Moderates


Recommended Posts

For those who don't know, Sam Harris is an unofficial member of an unofficial organization called the 'New Atheists'. Along with Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett, and Christopher Hitchens (who was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer), they form the 'Four Horsemen' of 'New Atheism.' Well as anyone will be quick to point out, there isn't much new about New Atheism, which is why I posted an excerpt from Robert Green Ingersoll in another topic. Anyway, if I had one book to recommend from the supposed New Atheists, Harris's The End of Faith would be the one.

 

"The Problem with Religious Moderates"

 

Reprinted from: The End of Faith

by Sam Harris

 

People of faith fall on a continuum: some draw solace and inspiration from a specific spiritual tradition, and yet remain fully committed to tolerance and diversity, while others would burn the earth to cinders if it would put an end to heresy. There are, in other words, religious moderates and religious extremists, and their various passions and projects should not be confused. However, religious moderates are themselves the bearers of a terrible dogma: they imagine that the path to peace will be paved once each of us has learned to respect the unjustified beliefs of others. I hope to show that the very ideal of religious tolerance-born of the notion that every human being should be free to believe whatever he wants about God-is one of the principal forces driving us toward the abyss.

 

We have been slow to recognize the degree to which religious faith perpetuates man's inhumanity to man. This is not surprising, since many of us still believe that faith is an essential component of human life. Two myths now keep faith beyond the fray of rational criticism, and they seem to foster religious extremism and religious moderation equally: (i) most of us believe that there are good things that people get from religious faith (e.g., strong communities, ethical behavior, spiritual experience) that cannot be had elsewhere; (2) many of us also believe that the terrible things that are sometimes done in the name of religion are the products not of faith per se but of our baser natures-forces like greed, hatred, and fear-for which religious beliefs are themselves the best (or even the only) remedy. Taken together, these myths seem to have granted us perfect immunity to outbreaks of reasonableness in our public discourse.

 

Many religious moderates have taken the apparent high road of pluralism, asserting the equal validity of all faiths, but in doing so they neglect to notice the irredeemably sectarian truth claims of each. As long as a Christian believes that only his baptized brethren will be saved on the Day of judgment, he cannot possibly "respect" the beliefs of others, for he knows that the flames of hell have been stoked by these very ideas and await their adherents even now. Muslims and Jews generally take the same arrogant view of their own enterprises and have spent millennia passionately reiterating the errors of other faiths. It should go without saying that these rival belief systems are all equally uncontaminated by evidence.

 

While moderation in religion may seem a reasonable position to stake out, in light of all that we have (and have not) learned about the universe, it offers no bulwark against religious extremism and religious violence. The problem that religious moderation poses for all of us is that it does not permit anything very critical to be said about religious literalism. We cannot say that fundamentalists are crazy, because they are merely practicing their freedom of belief; we cannot even say that they are mistaken in religious terms, because their knowledge of scripture is generally unrivaled. All we can say, as religious moderates, is that we don't like the personal and social costs that a full embrace of scripture imposes on us. This is not a new form of faith, or even a new species of scriptural exegesis; it is simply a capitulation to a variety of all-too-human interests that have nothing, in principle, to do with God.

 

Unless the core dogmas of faith are called into question-i.e., that we know there is a God, and that we know what he wants from us-religious moderation will do nothing to lead us out of the wilderness.

 

The benignity of most religious moderates does not suggest that religious faith is anything more sublime than a desperate marriage of hope and ignorance, nor does it guarantee that there is not a terrible price to be paid for limiting the scope of reason in our dealings with other human beings. Religious moderation, insofar as it represents an attempt to hold on to what is still serviceable in orthodox religion, closes the door to more sophisticated approaches to spirituality, ethics, and the building of strong communities.

 

Religious moderates seem to believe that what we need is not radical insight and innovation in these areas but a mere dilution of Iron Age philosophy. Rather than bring the full force of our creativity and rationality to bear on the problems of ethics, social cohesion, and even spiritual experience, moderates merely ask that we relax our standards of adherence to ancient superstitions and taboos, while otherwise maintaining a belief system that was passed down to us from men and women whose lives were simply ravaged by their basic ignorance about the world. In what other sphere of life is such subservience to tradition acceptable? Medicine? Engineering? Not even politics suffers the anachronism that still dominates our thinking about ethical values and spiritual experience.

 

Imagine that we could revive a well-educated Christian of the fourteenth century. The man would prove to be a total ignoramus, except on matters of faith. His beliefs about geography, astronomy, and medicine would embarrass even a child, but he would know more or less everything there is to know about God. Though he would be considered a fool to think that the earth is flat, or that trepanning constitutes a wise medical intervention, his religious ideas would still be beyond reproach. There are two explanations for this: either we perfected our religious understanding of the world a millennium ago-while our knowledge on all other fronts was still hopelessly inchoate-or religion, being the mere maintenance of dogma, is one area of discourse that does not admit of progress. We will see that there is much to recommend the latter view.

 

With each passing year, do our religious beliefs conserve more and more of the data of human experience? If religion addresses a genuine sphere of understanding and human necessity, then it should be susceptible to progress; its doctrines should become more useful, rather than less. Progress in religion, as in other fields, would have to be a matter of present inquiry, not the mere reiteration of past doctrine. Whatever is true now should be discoverable now, and describable in terms that are not an outright affront to the rest of what we know about the world. By this measure, the entire project of religion seems perfectly backward. It cannot survive the changes that have come over us-culturally, technologically, and even ethically. Otherwise, there are few reasons to believe that we will survive it.

 

Moderates do not want to kill anyone in the name of God, but they want us to keep using the word "God" as though we knew what we were talking about. And they do not want anything too critical said about people who really believe in the God of their fathers, because tolerance, perhaps above all else, is sacred. To speak plainly and truthfully about the state of our world-to say, for instance, that the Bible and the Koran both contain mountains of life-destroying gibberish-is antithetical to tolerance as moderates currently conceive it. But we can no longer afford the luxury of such political correctness. We must finally recognize the price we are paying to maintain the iconography of our ignorance.

 

LINK

Link to comment

Interesting read. I think the view that religion, and its interpretation, has not seen progress is a little oversimplified, and the claims of the first few paragraphs are somewhat strong. Nonetheless I agree with much of what was said, and since it's so long, I'll just highlight a few points of particular interest to me.

 

The benignity of most religious moderates does not suggest that religious faith is anything more sublime than a desperate marriage of hope and ignorance,nor does it guarantee that there is not a terrible price to be paid for limiting the scope of reason in our dealings with other human beings

 

...moderates merely ask that we relax our standards of adherence to ancient superstitions and taboos, while otherwise maintaining a belief system that was passed down to us from men and women whose lives were simply ravaged by their basic ignorance about the world. In what other sphere of life is such subservience to tradition acceptable? Medicine? Engineering?

 

Imagine that we could revive a well-educated Christian of the fourteenth century. The man would prove to be a total ignoramus, except on matters of faith...either we perfected our religious understanding of the world a millennium ago-while our knowledge on all other fronts was still hopelessly inchoate-or religion, being the mere maintenance of dogma, is one area of discourse that does not admit of progress
Link to comment

I don't know, X, it's an alright read, but it certainly presumes to know the mind of the moderate as though somehow we're all identical or even unified in our beliefs. I realize he's generalizing for the sake of both agruement and brevity but I think he takes alot for granted here.

 

The only line that really annoyed me was "Whatever is true now should be discoverable now". I'm pretty sure we don't know all things that are yet. Wouldn't that make us omniscient, and thus gods in our own right? I'm probably being petty here.

 

That said, it's certainly food for thought and I as a moderate christian who thinks exploration of faith is critcal to faith thank you for that.

Link to comment

I don't know, X, it's an alright read, but it certainly presumes to know the mind of the moderate as though somehow we're all identical or even unified in our beliefs. I realize he's generalizing for the sake of both agruement and brevity but I think he takes alot for granted here.

 

The only line that really annoyed me was "Whatever is true now should be discoverable now". I'm pretty sure we don't know all things that are yet. Wouldn't that make us omniscient, and thus gods in our own right? I'm probably being petty here.

 

That said, it's certainly food for thought and I as a moderate christian who thinks exploration of faith is critcal to faith thank you for that.

 

I think that's a fair point. When I read it I emphasized the able in discoverable. Sam, I can personally assure you, is well aware of the fact that science has not unlocked the universe (not for lack of trying) or discovered everything. He's also aware that for some sciences it's a long road ahead––he's a neuroscientist, if that tells you anything.

 

His larger point is that religion does not add to human knowledge. It can't, doesn't, and never has because it lacks explanatory power. What it presumes to tell us is no better than speculation. That, in short, is one of the themes of his book.

Link to comment

His larger point is that religion does not add to human knowledge.

Neither do cupcakes, but they still have their place in the world. Spirituality isn't a bad thing, used properly. Then again, neither is a gun.

 

But cupcakes are not mind control and rationalized oppression for billions of people.

Link to comment
His larger point is that religion does not add to human knowledge.

Neither do cupcakes, but they still have their place in the world. Spirituality isn't a bad thing, used properly. Then again, neither is a gun.

 

But cupcakes are not mind control and rationalized oppression for billions of people.

 

Neither is spirituality. You may think so, but others don't.

Link to comment
His larger point is that religion does not add to human knowledge.

Neither do cupcakes, but they still have their place in the world. Spirituality isn't a bad thing, used properly. Then again, neither is a gun.

 

I suppose for me it would depend on what you mean by spiritual. You might call self-searching meditation spiritual, for instance. Sam Harris is very big into meditation––the difference between him and others is that he places it in a scientific context, trying to learn verifiable information about how the mind interacts with the body and itself. Christopher Hitchens often talks about literature, poetry, and philosophy as an engagement in the 'transcendent'. Dawkins sounds like he's composing hymns when he speaks about science.

 

All these things are fine and good, and good in themselves, I think, for people to feel and experience. My issue is when you begin to talk about the spiritual––what I hear is spirit, as in deity, as in spirit world, as in non-natural world, as in to this point ill-defined, undemonstrated speculation which isn't interested in being investigated to see if it's true or not. Now I wouldn't be surprised if my perception on that is wrong or not in line with what you or others believe it to mean, but I think it goes straight back to the core of the debate. What is a spiritual thing, and what place does it have in reality?

Link to comment

I suppose for me it would depend on what you mean by spiritual. You might call self-searching meditation spiritual, for instance. Sam Harris is very big into meditation––the difference between him and others is that he places it in a scientific context, trying to learn verifiable information about how the mind interacts with the body and itself. Christopher Hitchens often talks about literature, poetry, and philosophy as an engagement in the 'transcendent'. Dawkins sounds like he's composing hymns when he speaks about science.

 

All these things are fine and good, and good in themselves, I think, for people to feel and experience. My issue is when you begin to talk about the spiritual––what I hear is spirit, as in deity, as in spirit world, as in non-natural world, as in to this point ill-defined, undemonstrated speculation which isn't interested in being investigated to see if it's true or not. Now I wouldn't be surprised if my perception on that is wrong or not in line with what you or others believe it to mean, but I think it goes straight back to the core of the debate. What is a spiritual thing, and what place does it have in reality?

 

It's a good question, and the answer is probably as varied as each of the seven billion people on this planet. I can't define spirituality for you, because your life path makes it mean something different than what it means to me. We can sit down and drink the same beer, and you're going to like it or not like it individually from my tastes.

 

Where we can probably all agree is that "spirituality" is dangerous when it takes on one of many forms, including but not limited to the mind control and rationalized oppression that manhattan brought up, or in deceit intended to gain power or exert undue influence on another. In its simplest form a belief in a god, meditation, a faith in some unknown "higher power" or whatever form your spirituality takes is not inherently damaging, just as a gun, no matter how powerful, is not inherently dangerous. It's when these things are wielded against another that they become dangerous.

 

If there is no god(s) and this is all just an accident (I'm grooving on the "we're living inside a black hole" theory right now - it makes a lot of sense), then individual spirituality is errant, but not inherently dangerous. I see no harm in someone living a life praying to a nonexistent god, expecting to go to a nonexistent heaven at their death. It makes them happy, it comforts them, and it does nobody any harm. It's Linus' blanket.

 

But I don't have to give examples of where religion (organized spirituality) goes wrong, and I think we can take it as a given that it's been responsible for many, many harms inflicted on the world. But if there is no god, this is all an accident, and we either fall back into the Big Crunch or we expand forever into the Big Rip, then nothing we do, whether we invent gods or live as innocents or dominate the Universe or never existed, none of it really matters anyway... so who cares? There's no point in the knowledge, and even though I want to know everything, knowing does me no good.

 

If there is a god then I'd like to know where he's been, because if I behaved toward my child the way god has behaved toward his, I'd be cited for abandonment. It's a pretty crummy thing to have no proof, to have no way of having proof, and to know that if you had proof it would obviate your existence (or at least your freedom).

 

Meh. I said I wouldn't get into this stuff. But whatever. :)

Link to comment

I suppose for me it would depend on what you mean by spiritual. You might call self-searching meditation spiritual, for instance. Sam Harris is very big into meditation––the difference between him and others is that he places it in a scientific context, trying to learn verifiable information about how the mind interacts with the body and itself. Christopher Hitchens often talks about literature, poetry, and philosophy as an engagement in the 'transcendent'. Dawkins sounds like he's composing hymns when he speaks about science.

 

All these things are fine and good, and good in themselves, I think, for people to feel and experience. My issue is when you begin to talk about the spiritual––what I hear is spirit, as in deity, as in spirit world, as in non-natural world, as in to this point ill-defined, undemonstrated speculation which isn't interested in being investigated to see if it's true or not. Now I wouldn't be surprised if my perception on that is wrong or not in line with what you or others believe it to mean, but I think it goes straight back to the core of the debate. What is a spiritual thing, and what place does it have in reality?

 

It's a good question, and the answer is probably as varied as each of the seven billion people on this planet. I can't define spirituality for you, because your life path makes it mean something different than what it means to me. We can sit down and drink the same beer, and you're going to like it or not like it individually from my tastes.

 

Where we can probably all agree is that "spirituality" is dangerous when it takes on one of many forms, including but not limited to the mind control and rationalized oppression that manhattan brought up, or in deceit intended to gain power or exert undue influence on another. In its simplest form a belief in a god, meditation, a faith in some unknown "higher power" or whatever form your spirituality takes is not inherently damaging, just as a gun, no matter how powerful, is not inherently dangerous. It's when these things are wielded against another that they become dangerous.

 

If there is no god(s) and this is all just an accident (I'm grooving on the "we're living inside a black hole" theory right now - it makes a lot of sense), then individual spirituality is errant, but not inherently dangerous. I see no harm in someone living a life praying to a nonexistent god, expecting to go to a nonexistent heaven at their death. It makes them happy, it comforts them, and it does nobody any harm. It's Linus' blanket.

 

But I don't have to give examples of where religion (organized spirituality) goes wrong, and I think we can take it as a given that it's been responsible for many, many harms inflicted on the world. But if there is no god, this is all an accident, and we either fall back into the Big Crunch or we expand forever into the Big Rip, then nothing we do, whether we invent gods or live as innocents or dominate the Universe or never existed, none of it really matters anyway... so who cares? There's no point in the knowledge, and even though I want to know everything, knowing does me no good.

 

If there is a god then I'd like to know where he's been, because if I behaved toward my child the way god has behaved toward his, I'd be cited for abandonment. It's a pretty crummy thing to have no proof, to have no way of having proof, and to know that if you had proof it would obviate your existence (or at least your freedom).

 

Meh. I said I wouldn't get into this stuff. But whatever. :)

 

I have to steal another Harris line for the first bolded point. He asks what I think is the most damaging question regarding that position. His Socratic answer would be, Where else in our discourse as human beings is that sort of thing acceptable? Is false hope really hope, and is it better than the consolations of philosophy, or stoicism? I can't make up anyone's mind for them on that. People are free to engage in whatever wishful thinking they want, but history has a funny way of constantly reminding us that so few have taken nothing but solace from their faith––and so many aren't happy unless everyone else believes like they do. A few more have to exclude others not like themselves to be happy. And still a few more have to torture and murder in its name to be happy. I want to believe that Kate Beckinsale is going out on a date with me tomorrow night. That in and of itself isn't crazy. But if I told you that I knew she was going to go on a date with me tomorrow night, that we were destined to be soul mates, and that I wouldn't want to live in a world where that wasn't the case, what would your response be to me?

 

On the nihilism of a godless universe, I can understand it. I can even sympathize with it. The trouble with it is I see no difference if God exists or not. Christians tell me God's going to blow this place up someday soon anyway. What's the point of living to eternally praise the eternal creator? What's the point of God? What does he want, and why? What's he good for? Two can play at this game. Is the universe an accident? Jury's still out. Is it going to inevitably end? Don't know. Even if it is, at least for the time being I enjoy this life. Sometimes quite a lot. As comforting as the answers (so called) religion offers may be, for my part I'm more interested in finding out what's true, and failing that, being honest. And sometimes honesty demands that we admit it when we just don't know.

Link to comment

 

But I don't have to give examples of where religion (organized spirituality) goes wrong, and I think we can take it as a given that it's been responsible for many, many harms inflicted on the world. But if there is no god, this is all an accident, and we either fall back into the Big Crunch or we expand forever into the Big Rip, then nothing we do, whether we invent gods or live as innocents or dominate the Universe or never existed, none of it really matters anyway... so who cares? There's no point in the knowledge, and even though I want to know everything, knowing does me no good.

 

It is possible that humanity could live on indefinitely, although I admit that this is unlikely. If there are an infinite amount of universes and humanity discovers how to warp space to travel between them then humanity could theoretically exist forever.

 

But if we assume that the universe ends, then why do you assume that nothing matters? Do most people spend their time wondering whether or not the universe will exist in billions of years hence? How much effect does this idea really have on your life?

 

Personally, I worry about the things that I can control. I don't worry about what is going to happen in the far future. As a matter of fact, I don't care about anything that happens after I die with a few obvious exceptions.

Link to comment

I have to steal another Harris line for the first bolded point. He asks what I think is the most damaging question regarding that position. His Socratic answer would be, Where else in our discourse as human beings is that sort of thing acceptable? Is false hope really hope, and is it better than the consolations of philosophy, or stoicism? I can't make up anyone's mind for them on that. People are free to engage in whatever wishful thinking they want, but history has a funny way of constantly reminding us that so few have taken nothing but solace from their faith––and so many aren't happy unless everyone else believes like they do. A few more have to exclude others not like themselves to be happy. And still a few more have to torture and murder in its name to be happy. I want to believe that Kate Beckinsale is going out on a date with me tomorrow night. That in and of itself isn't crazy. But if I told you that I knew she was going to go on a date with me tomorrow night, that we were destined to be soul mates, and that I wouldn't want to live in a world where that wasn't the case, what would your response be to me?

 

On the nihilism of a godless universe, I can understand it. I can even sympathize with it. The trouble with it is I see no difference if God exists or not. Christians tell me God's going to blow this place up someday soon anyway. What's the point of living to eternally praise the eternal creator? What's the point of God? What does he want, and why? What's he good for? Two can play at this game. Is the universe an accident? Jury's still out. Is it going to inevitably end? Don't know. Even if it is, at least for the time being I enjoy this life. Sometimes quite a lot. As comforting as the answers (so called) religion offers may be, for my part I'm more interested in finding out what's true, and failing that, being honest. And sometimes honesty demands that we admit it when we just don't know.

 

Acceptable to whom? To a philosopher, or a scientist? To a person making a living writing articles debunking religion? Maybe this question is important to those people, but to the common person who lives and dies within a 100-mile radius of the point of their birth, which is the vast majority of the masses, this question is irrelevant. Religion or no religion, they're going to largely live the same meaningless life. Their individual life is so irrelevant that 20 years after their death only a handful of people recall their name, and 100 years after their death they become a name on a family tree and a couple of sentences. "Allen drove a milk truck for 24 years and earned safe driving badges each year. He was survived by Norma, Sharon and Janice, and preceded in death by his son Steven." What matter to that person if there were no religion, short of having a little more time on Sunday morning? How would it change the impact of his life?

 

As a species our very existence is almost entirely irrelevant. Unless we have time to discover some pretty aggressive technologies and move beyond our planet, we're going to live and die as a species having done little more than dig into our planet a bit. In a million years, celestially speaking half an eyeblink, the vast majority of our impact on this planet will be gone. Our most lasting impact could be as a fossil fuel for the next species to attain dominance. The impermanence of this existence makes the very nature of the question "Where else is that acceptable" irrelevant.

 

As for you and Ms. Beckinsale (single again, I believe?), while I highly doubt the existence of your date tomorrow night, if it comforts you to think it's going to happen, what harm does it do me that you harbor such a belief? When tomorrow night comes and goes with no date, you'll be forced to address your belief and re-evaluate it, and perhaps you'll rationalize that she had to wash that beautiful, beautiful hair of hers, and she'll be dropping by tonight instead. Again, doesn't much matter to me. I'm not interested in dating her, and even if she showed up at my door for that date, I'm already married and unable to go. It's all the same to me no matter what happens.

 

Regarding the second bolded sentence, isn't that what "it' is all about? You doing what makes you happy, me doing what makes me happy, Kate Beckinsale doing what makes her happy? Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die, indeed. What is god good for? He clearly provides comfort to millions upon millions. He's as good as a security blanket, an aspirin, or a Kate Beckinsale fascination. He's also as dangerous as an aspirin, or a Kate Beckinsale fascination, used improperly.

 

So let's say you find out what's true. Let's say you're utterly honest and it somehow gets you the answers that have eluded philosophers and pundits throughout history. Do you envision some great awakening by man? How will the lot of the common man be any different than it is today? And how will it be better?

Link to comment

 

But I don't have to give examples of where religion (organized spirituality) goes wrong, and I think we can take it as a given that it's been responsible for many, many harms inflicted on the world. But if there is no god, this is all an accident, and we either fall back into the Big Crunch or we expand forever into the Big Rip, then nothing we do, whether we invent gods or live as innocents or dominate the Universe or never existed, none of it really matters anyway... so who cares? There's no point in the knowledge, and even though I want to know everything, knowing does me no good.

 

It is possible that humanity could live on indefinitely, although I admit that this is unlikely. If there are an infinite amount of universes and humanity discovers how to warp space to travel between them then humanity could theoretically exist forever.

 

But if we assume that the universe ends, then why do you assume that nothing matters? Do most people spend their time wondering whether or not the universe will exist in billions of years hence? How much effect does this idea really have on your life?

 

Personally, I worry about the things that I can control. I don't worry about what is going to happen in the far future. As a matter of fact, I don't care about anything that happens after I die with a few obvious exceptions.

 

To the bold - if it all ends/goes away, and in the aftermath there is nothing and no-one to notice, then it really truly does not matter who we are or what we do. It'll all be gone, even the concept of lamenting the loss will be gone. What better definition of "nothing matters" could there be?

 

This is point I'm making. If nothing matters, then whatever we do, whether that be religion or philosophy or gardening or rocket science, all of it will be gone, and all are equally worthy/unworthy pursuits at any specific point in time.

 

I like your philosophy of worrying about what you can control. That makes the most sense. It's easier said than done, though - I seem to spend a lot of time worrying about the poorly timed stoplights in this stupid town, and worrying about the general idiocy of other drivers. I'd have a lot less gray hair if I could stop worrying about those two things.

Link to comment
  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.
×
×
  • Create New...