VI. How do we define anything?

Erin:

It's probably true that some people find the "atheist" label off-putting, but the comments I've heard have more to do with AURA's tendency to take a tone of intellectual superiority towards anyone belonging to a religious community and the attitude that all religious people must not understand what science is or why it is important. It's not so much the atheism that bothers people as the tendency of some of AURA's members (though I think not the group itself) to be anti-religion. Hard to start a dialogue premised on rejection of an entire group's identity.

Sure, dictionaries are handy things (as for how dictionaries get there definitions, I highly recommend this book: http://www.amazon.co.uk/Professor-Madman-Insanity-English-Dictionary/dp/0060839783 from when I went through my dictionary phase), but they're notoriously bad at speaking to the connotational dimension of language and when an issue is as ideologically and politically charged as "science v. religion," chances are that acknowledging something more than denotative meaning is going to be necessary to structure a productive debate. That's why I'm more concerned with how terms are actually used and what effect they have than how we ought to define them. Maybe Sagan's world view doesn't fit under Webster's "religion" entry (or maybe it does), but it still matters that people call his view religious. That's more interesting to me than the question of whether or not Sagan (or Einstein or anyone) is "actually" religious. And actually, I think a conceptual dictionary of family resemblances is a great idea: think about it! It would probably have to be digitally structured, but think of how you could link words and concepts to each other in a massive web of meanings and relations! It would probably look something like Wikipedia, though less encyclopedic and perhaps more visually oriented.

Sidenote: What class was the Great DiPrima-Jackson Religion Debate a product of? And why wasn't I in that class?

Chris:

Personally, I haven't seen AURA do the sorts of things that would lead to such a level of animosity, were they not self-identified as "no-religious." Then again, I wasn't here when it was founded and only started going to meetings this past fall. I know that they've co-hosted a debate or two, which could have been the issue, but since I've been going, it's been speakers and spaghetti.

Again, maybe it would help to inform my view by saying that I hate people and think that they're almost universally idiots - this has nothing to do with religion. I'm therefore completely uninterested in "how terms are actually used." Calling bird poop "droppings" doesn't make it any different.

The debate was a byproduct of Social/Science/Fiction in spring of 2008. I forget how we actually got into this, but it had something to do with Mary Doria Russell's The Sparrow. [It kills me, by the way, that you can't underline or italicize in Facebook, but I refuse to put book titles in quotation marks.] Excellent class, of course - it's on a two-year cycle and (apparently) quite different each time.

http://www.neatorama.com/2009/12/31/carl-sagans-apple-pie-recipe/

Erin:

Spaghetti is delicious, even when it is consumed with mocking intent. And if you ever get Dr. Tyson to speak, I'll absolutely show up (provided it's not this year).

I take a pretty dim view of cynicism among anyone under the age of 60, but I suppose if you want to hate humanity that's your prerogative. I alternate between being frustrated and fascinated by the fact that so few people seem to think like I think (not so much what I think but how), but I don't think that makes them idiots. Basically, I don't understand the social world particularly well intuitively and I appreciate intellectually the puzzles it presents. Looking at language and how it's used is an appealing way to cut into this puzzle as language mediates, if not defines, much of what happens there. But then, I think there's an irreducibly subjective basis to what approach people take to making sense of the world. That's not an argument for "anything goes" relativism -- there's still an imperative to conduct your inquiry according to rigorous standards that are, as Weber puts it, "valid for other people," and to be intellectually honest about your work (your "Don't lie!") and nor does it exempt any approach from skepticism and criticism -- but I cannot find another compelling argument for theoretical and methodological differences among people from similar backgrounds. At some level one mode of understanding is just more intuitive than another. (On an individual level, of course, I love some people very much, strongly dislike a smaller number and am more or less indifferent to the rest. Kind of like most people.)

One of the articles I just read for my International Security class (which is, you'll probably not be stunned to find out, taught by a constructivist) begins by taking a stab at defining religion. Perhaps you'll find their recognition of the heterogeneous character of "religion" (in the context of a justification for drawing upon Kierkegaard's understanding of faith) more productive than my imagined web of meaning. (My imagined web of meaning is pretty amazing, though; it's all glow-y and responsive and interconnected like the plants in Avatar.) Anyway, here's what Lausten and Waever say: "Once, in criticising Kant’s transcendental categories, Hegel ironically claimed that every time he asked for a piece of fruit at the greengrocers he got an apple, a pear, but never a piece of fruit. Like apples and pears we only have Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, etc., never religion as such. Nevertheless, Hegel’s argument was not that this prevents comparisons and the introduction of categories. The point is,

however, that one has to accept that our way to the universal (religion as such) goes through the particular (Christianity)." [Disclaimer: It is possible that the image of Hegel shopping for apples contributes to my interest in this point.] Maybe an understanding and acknowledgment the limiting context of our definition is a better appraoch than resorting to limitless families? Regardless, I think the strength of your reaction to calling Sagan's world-view a religion demonstrates pretty clear that it does matter (in the sense of generating observable effects) how words are used ...

Alas, it appears I'm missing that class this year too. I'll soldier on somehow.

Here, have some posty-toasty asteroid lit: https://docs.google.com/fileview?id=0BwOyd8-QlWaTOGM3Y2NiNDAtMzk3YS00YjhmLThkYzEtOTI1MWE4ODAxYTQw&hl=en.

Chris:

My reaction to PTJ's calling Sagan's world-view "religious?" I looked it up and decided that it was possible but an incredible stretch. "If we are to call Sagan’s beliefs his religion, as we may do, we must include the caveat that those beliefs are nothing like the religions that we know." And then, of course, going into an abbreviated version of my whole point, that religion as defined and as practiced involves certainty and invocation of the supernatural, which aren't things that Carl Sagan does at all in his work.

I'm sure that given time and the Principia Mathematica, I could come up with a hilarious equation that takes into account the strength of a definition based on its position (1, 2, or in the case of the definition I thought supported the "Sagan's religious" argument, 3) and the number of words from that definition which support versus deny the claim, but I neither have the time nor the Britishness to do so. It would be fun, though.

In terms of mocking intent for the Flying Spaghetti Dinner? Eh. The flying spaghetti monster is, I think, sort of an icon of a few years ago. I think it's a character that stretches across the line of theism versus non-theism into the realm of "snarky kids" in general. And to boot, it's an open event that's advertised by AURA as an AURA event with spaghetti provided by AURA and a movie (Religulous) screened by AURA. Whoever went just for the free spaghetti and got offended deserved it. Also, they are idiots (not for their religion in this context, but because they didn't figure out that they might be offended by going to a meeting of people whose "beliefs" they are diametrically opposed to). And because there's nothing wrong with theists laughing at the Fred Flintstone world of the Creation Museum in Kentucky.... See More

Which is an excellent transition into my "people are idiots" thingy. I'm merely being realistic. I don't mean that people are without redeeming qualities; merely that on the whole, the vast majority of people are idiots. (Get into a car and drive around. You'll find them. They often hide in plain sight in the left lane of expressways or drive giant SUVs because they think that they're safer for their families. Occasionally, one will leap across four lanes of traffic to get to an exit. Or better, use an exit that's not actually there. I will grant that there are less idiots in Germany and the state of the Autobahn is an excellent biproduct.) Then, on the one end are the truly psychotic among us, whom I don't think count as idiots, and on the other end, there are the people who at least meet some minimum requirements for making 3.8 billion years of evolution worth it. Note: this does not mean that I agree with them.

To learn how the social world works, it's best to assume either the worst or the simplest (or both - they usually fit together quite well). It's not very difficult. And again, I don't think that's a cynical statement as much as one that's tried and true.

Barely related to all of this: http://gladwell.com/2004/2004_09_06_a_ketchup.html - There may not be a Platonic ideal of ketchup, but there's certainly a difference between ketchup the sauce and ketchup the condiment.

TO BE CONTINUED ...

I. Can religion and science be partners?

Early last week, I came across this article on the UU World website, which argues that "both science and religion have something meaningful to contribute to a universal ethic." I found this idea novel and appealing, so I posted the link on Facebook. This post caught the attention of Chris DiPrima and sparked a week-long debate on science, religion, the social sciences, knowledge claims, campus politics, language, and human nature. Since then, our debate has come up in conversation with several people who do not have Facebook accounts, and by popular request (and with Chris's permission), I'm posting a transcript of our conversation in several installments here on the pirate blog. Out of fairness to both parties and an attempt to preserve the coherence and flow of our rather unwieldy dialogue (and mostly laziness) I've left it largely unedited.

***************************************************

Erin Lockwood:

Richard Dawkins, et al., please take note:

http://www.uuworld.org/ideas/articles/151704.shtml.

"It can be claimed that science does not speak to ethics and values, but that is not entirely correct. The scientific method is truly values-neutral, dedicated only to understanding the natural world. The institution we call science, on the other hand, is motivated by a genuine desire to improve the human condition: increasing food yields, curing disease, overcoming the conditions that foster poverty, understanding the reasons for criminal behavior, distributing low-cost personal computers to poor children—the list of science’s humanistic aims is endless.

Thus, the two disciplines—science and religion—continue to express humanity’s teleological quest for progress and perfection: 'the best and most complete form of goodness,' in Aristotle’s words. Science and religion come from the same human aspiration—the quest for transcendence and salvation. Both disciplines strive to understand the essence of the universe, the 'language of God.' And in a sense, both seek to recover humankind’s 'lost divinity.'"

Chris DiPrima:

http://www.haydenplanetarium.org/tyson/read/essays/nathist/holywars

Erin:

Given that Sheiman's claim is that "both science and religion have something meaningful to contribute to a universal ethic," not that religion has anything to begin to counter science's predictive and empirical value, I think he (and I) would agree with pretty much all of Tyson's points except the following: "Let there be no doubt that as they are currently practiced, there is no common ground between science and religion." First of all, it is not clear that this is true even if we were to define the practice of science solely in terms of methodology. See, for example, the work of Heather Douglas: http://www.jstor.org/stable/188707. But, as Sheiman points out, beyond the scientific method, non-epistemic values undeniably influence the current practice of science in all kinds of ways: This is his argument about science being motivated by improving the human condition, and it is at this nexus of the empirical and the ethical that there is room for science and religion to not only talk but to work as partners. ( I'd also argue that even ostensibly "pure" science works to improve the human condition by increasing what we know [*know*, not believe or accept on faith] about the world, but I'm not sure Sheiman goes quite that far ...)

Chris:

First, straight-up, Sheiman characterizes the debate in a way that I feel is dishonest. I don't believe that there is such thing as a "militant atheist:" to be militant, I think one has to do the sorts of things that qualify you as violent, and atheists generally don't burn down churches. In fact, atheists tend not to be predisposed to war-like tendencies. I've argued in the past that questioning one's religion is one of the ways to automatically get a viceral response because it is a chosen identity which people treat as some sort of in-bred one. But this is a discussion for another time.

My point here is that Richard Dawkins is an adorable, grey-haired British man who is one of the greatest biologists of all time, and somehow he has been categorized as militant for much of his career (even before The God Delusion). Now, Dr. Tyson takes Dawkins to task for the way people react to him, which hits on the idea that as long as you directly criticize religion, you will be thought of as "militant." Which is why, by the way, Dr. Tyson avoids making his "Perimeter of Ignorance" speech these days, preferring to introduce skepticism to people and letting them figure out that there's no such thing as the supernatural on their own terms. But again, this is a discussion for another time.

So, to Sheiman's actual arguments. First, religion does not define human norms or behaviors. If that were true, we would still have the Ultimate 747 conundrum of who made the religion (but then, this would bring up the problem of appeal to inappropriate authority - those guys have been dead for a long time). Rather, operational human norms define what parts of religion people agree with at any particular time of human culture. The danger, of course, is that people don't realize this, then pick up on the crazy shit (like the "no mixed fabrics" section), and finally start blowing people up because they're wearing nylon. Because the problem with using religion as the backdrop for your social norms is that it stops people from thinking.

Sheiman insults both science and religion in the last statement of the first section. True believers really do believe that the Big Bang did not happen; this is the ignorance that religion teaches. When atheists say that science invalidates the supernatural, they are correct. There is no way to believe in both the supernatural and science, which states that the universe is knowable through the methods of empiricism alone. This is not a belief for belief's sake; it works, and that is why scientists still use it. If it didn't, the method would need to be changed and scientists would do so. The great thing about science is that it is always open to new ideas, as long as they are based on evidence.

It is true that science cannot say for certain that there is no spiritual world. However, it can demonstrate that there is no mind-body duality and other testable claims that religion makes about the world. As my friend Andrew put it, "Indeed, the problem of getting along with religion is that religion won't play with its toys. it has to keep trying to play with science's toys, which is a bad idea if there ever was one." The bigger point is that science tells us not to believe something until we have evidence for it. The idea that we should believe in something until we prove that it doesn't exist is rather strange, from Russell's Teapot to WMDs. Scinece, on the other hand, is not infringing upon religion's domain. Science does not tell us how to act, or what is good or evil. However, as I have noted above, neither does religion.

Next, Sheiman essentially recapitulates the "God of the gaps" argument that Tyson debunks in his "Holy Wars" essay. If we declare God as the creator of the universe, we are doing so only because science has not yet shown us how the Big Bang started. As Tyson explains, this is not a new idea, and the problem with it is always that human knowledge eventually fills in the gaps. (Meanwhile, it just makes it much harder to get things like the Copernican model of the solar system or evolution accepted by the masses.)

Actually, there is a very good argument about religion being not a vestige of earlier phases of human development, but as a result of early phases of individual development. This is not a hypothesis that leads to the idea that religion will wither away; rather, it explains why our brains fire for religion. Because humans are born with underdeveloped brains, they need to learn from adults. Therefore, the early human brain is predisposed to have a certain amount of credulity so that children will accept whatever their parents say. It is an unintended consequence of this development that leaves the door open for us to remain credulous throughout life, believing in the supernatural. (How is it that nearly every major newspaper has an astrology section, but none have an astronomy section?)

"Science may tell us that nothing exists beyond the natural realm, but at the same time it seeks to push humanity above nature" - I don't see how this has any bearing on the argument whatsoever. Yes, the methods of science allow us to understand the (natural) world around us to the point where we can then improve the world and ourselves (in natural, not supernatural ways. I think that Sheiman is using a deliberately narrow definition of "nature" to prove his point, which I again think is dishonest.). How does this mean that it is comparable to the religious enterprise, which is essentially, "Don't worry about it. You'll meet magical people when you die." Yes, both speak to us about immortality because we don't like to die, but one is a real way to become "immortal" and the other way is a lie. Just because science and religion speak to the same human concerns does not mean that they are compatible; in fact, the opposite is more likely to be true, especially if science and religion are fighting over the same turf for the same money and the same minds.

So, finally, Sheiman uses dishonest rhetorical techniques to try to equivocate the pursuits of science and nature. The bottom line, though, is that religion makes claims about the physical world, which is definitely within the realm of science. Therefore, both cannot be accepted. A God of the gaps, meanwhile, has proven useless over the last few hundred years, so it is foolhardy to invoke it again. The only possible redeeming value of religion would be the invocation of a moral code, but as I have mentioned (and Dawkins et.al explain quite well), religion does not give us a moral code.

For more (since this response is not even long enough to scratch the surface of this sort of thing), PTJ and I had a debate about this during our Social/Science/Fiction class.

PTJ: http://profptj.blogspot.com/2008/04/carl-sagans-religion.html

Me: http://backyardrocket.blogspot.com/2008/04/we-are-star-stuff.html

TO BE CONTINUED ...

Pirates in church?

Well, in a UU church, anyway! Last Sunday, Rev. Louise Green at All Souls Unitarian Church gave a sermon on "The Inconvenience of Compassion" which began with an anecdote about feeling compassion for the Somali teenager, Abdiwali Abdiqadir Muse, who is being tried in New York for piracy. The sermon went on to play the rhetorical commonplace of "pirates as godless and evil" against teachings on compassion, and included a poem by Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk, poet, and peace activist:

Please Call Me By My True Names

Do not say that I'll depart tomorrow
because even today I still arrive.

Look deeply: I arrive in every second
to be a bud on a spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with wings still fragile,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
in order to fear and to hope.
The rhythm of my heart is the birth and
death of all that are alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing on the surface of the river,
and I am the bird which, when spring comes, arrives in time
to eat the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily in the clear pond,
and I am also the grass-snake who, approaching in silence,
feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks,
and I am the arms merchant, selling deadly weapons to
Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl, refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean after being raped by a sea
pirate,
and I am the pirate, my heart not yet capable of seeing and
loving.

I am a member of the politburo, with plenty of power in my
hands,
and I am the man who has to pay his "debt of blood" to, my
people,
dying slowly in a forced labor camp.

My joy is like spring, so warm it makes flowers bloom in all
walks of life.
My pain if like a river of tears, so full it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and laughs at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart can be left open,
the door of compassion.

I don't actually like the poem very much, but I have included it here as an example of a contemporary deployment of the "pirate as ultimate evil/hostis humani generis/enemy of all mankind" commonplace. That this common understanding of pirate is, to varying degrees, deliberately contested and refuted, both in the poem and in the wider context of the sermon, is actually further evidence of its being a rhetorical commonplace: In Civilizing the Enemy: German Reconstruction and the Invention of the West, Patrick Thaddeus Jackson takes great care to establish that a rhetorical commonplace is only weakly shared; it is a "potential resource," and "not a univocal, completely fixed bit of meaning that is identically possessed by multiple people; that would be a strong form of shared meaning, and ... would also have the logical consequence of making debate and discussion unnecessary: if we already agreed in this strong sense, why would we have to talk about it?" (28; 44; 50). Indeed, the sort of contentious conversations about representations of actors that Charles Tilly talks about in Stories, Identities, and Political Change are only possible with what he calls a shared set of idioms and history (116-118). Using pirates to demonstrate the possibilities of human compassion is an attempt to redefine the meaning of pirate, but such redefinition is only possible given that "pirates as evil" is already weakly shared among the congregation.

I feel like T-Rex explains this concept pretty well. (click to enlarge)