I’ve been busy all day trying to fix the electric starter on my snowblower, but so far without result, so I take refuge in my blog. First, I scout the usual suspects — Butterflies and Wheels, Why Evolution is True, Metamagician, RD.net, Pharygula, usw. — and then I gravitate back to the one that simply begged to be debugged: a little piece in the Toronto Review of Books by one Nora Parker on “The Future of Religion in a Secular Age.” (h/t Ophelia Benson) Well, you’ve got to hand it to her: it’s a real gripper of a title. And even more scintillating reading! But what follows here is a real cri de coeur, an expression of rage and frustration (and not only at snowblowers)!
Take the closing remark, intended to sum up with one of the religious profundities uttered by the erudite religious believers for people “with a penchant for the numinous”:
… one sensed that this wasn’t the night to confront the New Atheists. It was, instead, a night to be buoyed by Rabbi Sacks’s declaration that “Faith is the defeat of probability by the power of possibility,” whatever that possibility may be.
I know only two things about Rabbi Sacks, neither of them favourable. First, he found his father’s dying in misery a growing experience. He didn’t really explain what his father got out of it. Second, I began reading his book The Dignity of Difference, and gave it up at the point where he dismisses polytheists — the dignity of not too much difference, it seems.
And yet it is Sacks and Taylor — Charles Taylor, that is, author of endless philosophical tomes, dreaming of an age that is past and gone, winner to the Templeton Prize for possibly the longest of them all, A Secular Age. Like me, someone who won’t say in two words what he can stretch out to 2000, I found the Templeton-winning doorstop good in parts, like the curate’s egg, but found very little sustenance there.
Bishop: "I'm afraid you've got a bad egg, Mr Jones"; Curate: "Oh, no, my Lord, I assure you that parts of it are excellent!"
See, that’s what you do when you’re frustrated — you lose your train of thought. Yet it is Sacks and Taylor — what? Anyway, back to Taylor. Whether it was his attempt at defeating probabilities with possibilities, I’m not sure, but certainly, for someone beginning the final countdown of years, too many words — and unlike Mozart (the Amadeus version), who asked the emperor – who told him that there were too many notes in his opera — “Just take a few away and it will be perfect!” — which notes he had in mind, I could in fact point to many words the venerable Taylor might have left out.
However, while Nora Parker might have a sense that this was not a time to confront the new atheists – nevertheless:
Much of the evening’s conversation was dedicated to addressing the ideas and popularity of writers like Richard Dawkins, Christopher Hitchens, and Sam Harris. Rabbi Sacks argued that these men over-simplify religion, producing critiques that are, in Oxford terms, superficially profound and profoundly superficial. He distinguished these tone-deaf atheists from “atheists with a soul,” those intellectuals who see the failings of religion and want something better for humanity.
“Atheists with a soul” — you know, intellectuals who see the failings of religion and want something better for humanity. Couldn’t possibly have had Dawkins, Hitchens or Harris in mind! They have not seen the failings of religion. They merely oversimplify it. If I hear that one more time, I swear I’m going to scream! That’s why what Julian Baggini is doing in his Guardian series is important. It might just smoke out some of these oversimplifications — like ‘defeating probabilities with possibilities’ perhaps!
Now, notice, Rabbi Sacks is, of course, a Jew, and Charles Taylor is — not of course, but in reality — a Roman Catholic. The first thing to notice about them is that they believe different things. Taylor, presumably, true to the magisterium of his church, subscribes to the beliefs outlined in the creeds and councils of the church, beliefs which hold that Jesus or Jeshua of Galilee was the long-awaited messiah of the Jews. Rabbi Sacks, presumably, is still awaiting the long-awaited one. But it is Dawkins, Hitchens and Harris who are oversimplifying!
The problem with religion, in case any of the religious are listening in, is simply that it is so very very complex, purports to speak about reality, and yet does so in contradictions. This is the starting point. Of course, Rabbi Sacks and Dr. Taylor will no doubt immediately respond that it’s not about beliefs. Let me repeat that, in case you didn’t notice: Religion is not about belief! There, that’s settled then.
We believe in one God, the Father Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth, and of all things visible and invisible; and in one Lord Jesus Christ, begotten of the Father before all worlds, God of God, Light of Light, Very God of Very God…
So, let’s get this straight. Religion is not about belief! Ah, yes, of course, it’s about defeating probabilities with possibilities. How could one forget this superficially profound and profoundly superficial utterance? For instance, it is very improbable that Jesus was raised from the dead. Rabbi Sacks doesn’t believe that he was — at least I suspect he doesn’t. But Christians do not faint or grow weary: they slay probabilities with possibilities and affirm the risen saviour! This, no doubt, is the numinous.
Ah! Yet there is more. The fair Nora exclaims:
For Taylor and Rabbi Sacks, religion should act as a counterpoint and antidote to the rampant solipsism and breakdown of sociality that characterize the secular world.
What exactly does she mean (or do Sacks and Taylor mean?) by “the rampant solipsism and breakdown of sociality that characterise the secular world”? Perhaps that people don’t go to church or to synagogue as often as they used to? Congregations are smaller? Congregants must be secluded in narcissistic solitude! Of course, that’s it. Society is breaking down. What does that mean? It wasn’t breaking down in sixteenth century England, then, when the murder rate was exponentially higher than it is now? Society was sound, on good foundations then? Let’s see. Jews had been expelled from England; Thomas More (now a saint, no less!) was busy burning heretics at the stake; Kings were lopping of wives’ heads instead of divorcing them! People believed — note that, they actually believed — that there was a god who cared for them – others? — yeah, maybe — but certainly this god had each person specifically in mind:
Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so …
But religion is not about beliefs. Let’s get that straight!
But still religion is vital, because it takes us out of ourselves. And you know, sometimes it does. So does football, tennis, chess, dancing, eating, music, hiking, adventuring, fighting, serving, helping, hoping, wishing — well, practically everything, if you put your heart into it. But according to Taylor, says Nora Parker,
… religious practice entails a transcendence of the self that is desperately needed in a culture as self-obsessed as our own.
What does ’self-obsessed’ mean? Compared to what? Compared to the obsession of religious pilgrims visiting a brain-dead girl? Compared to an obsessive devotion to a myth about personal redemption? Compared to an obsessive concern about people not being obsessively concerned about religion?
You know, it really does make me almost sick when I read another piece of nonsense about nonsense like Nora Parker’s. No one, but no one, is denying people the right to their numinous moments, so those with a penchant for the numinous are perfectly at liberty to go off seeking moments when they can meditate, contemplate nature, look raptly at the night sky and be overcome by the awesomeness of the universe. But this is not what religion is about, and that’s not what religious people like Sacks and Taylor are talking about either. They’re talking about religious institutions and their influence and power in the world. They’re pining for the good old days when religion was king and theology was queen of the sciences.
So, let’s get it really straight. No one would much mind if religion was just the background noise of cultural activity, like chess clubs or rugby teams or football fans. But that’s not what religion claims to be. It’s not just there for those with a penchant for the numinous; it’s there to tell people that their lives are all fucked up, that they’re solipsistic narcissists, that they need to pay attention to religious experts like themselves, and shape their lives according to some religious practice — you know what? let’s forget about the beliefs — let’s just think about the practice of religion — how it’s in your face all the time, how it’s so self-absorbed it hasn’t really noticed that it’s not necessary in order to make the world go round. You see it on the street in the clothes that people wear. Buildings proclaim it, insist on it being noticed. Now, in some places, even the kids are being dragooned into showing off their religion in their schools, by their dress, by special places just to pray, by the insistent rhythms of their lives, their particular hangups about the universe, their prejudices about women, their beliefs about what should be and should not be the law that should govern everyone.
Sorry Nora, but leave me out. Go, play your games with rituals and books and scrolls and songs and solidarity with those who think and pray and talk and — well, hell, it’s got to come in some place! — believe like you, but leave me out, and stop pushing these peculiarities on the rest of us. That’s what the new atheism is all about. It has nothing to say about religions except to say that, if they are based on beliefs, there is no reason to believe the beliefs true, and, on the other hand, if religious practice is just a way of wrapping up morals in myths, then that’s fine, and if it works for you, great!, but don’t try to pretend that everyone should pay attention either to your myths or to your particular ritual practices. When you’ve stopped playing games, and pretending it’s real, then get back to us, and see if there’s something we can do together. But, so far, looking at religion around the world, it’s a lot more bother than it’s worth, and a lot more harm than the religious seem prepared to acknowledge. When you’ve sorted this out, get back to us. But meanwhile, keep it to yourself, will ya! And really, Nora – graduate student in English at the University of Toronto — you really must do better than this.
Hi Eric,
Just wanted to draw your attention to these two posts, first one good and related to this post (from the Unpublishable Philosopher that you should check out if you haven’t already), second one faulty (but maybe you’ve seen it already; it’s a reply to you) ;
1. http://currentlogic.blogspot.com/2011/09/sophisticated-theism-new-new-atheism.html
2. http://santitafarella.wordpress.com/2011/08/16/atheist-eric-macdonald-equates-thomist-philosopher-edward-fesers-ideas-with-those-of-nazi-heinrich-himmler
What in the world was all of that?
Word salad. Not even deepities.
Sadly, though, if you had not told me that the writer was a graduate student in English, I would have guessed as much. Flowery, not-quite-right use of language strung together in near-meaningless phrases. One can’t graduate with a Master’s degree in English without mastering this form of pseudo-intellectual babble.
And it’s not even a recent phenomenon. Worst hire I ever made was in the late 1970s, when I brought in someone with a master’s degree in journalism from a prestigious university with a highly respected program. It only took me a couple of weeks to figure out the guy couldn’t write his way out of the unemployment line.
Well said.
This actually defines the stupidity of faith. Of course many things are possible, but we cannot believe every possible thing. There are many times when one must have faith and one could say, in that case, that faith is the defeat of probability by the power of pragmatism, since one has no choice but to have faith in those circumstances.
Relevant to Sacks and Taylor, though, Sacks’s foolish declaration is insufficient to give their views any validity; because their respective core beliefs are contradictory they would need faith to defeat probability through the power of impossibility!
I saw a BBC programme last year where Jonathan Sacks talks to four ‘sophisticated’ atheists (three of which are of Jewish background) and it’s extremely instructive to see how Sacks reacts to the attacks and his body language, especially with Colin Blakemore.
The first part is here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXPA0BGSWLI
Thank you Alexander. Of course, I am aware of the Feserites and the way they spun my comments about Himmler out of shape. My point was, and still is, that the coldness with which people speak about others’ suffering in pursuit of “high” moral ideals is similar to Himmler’s coldness in the face of the final solution. Feser is not a Himmler, but he, along with his Catholic confreres, is completely cold when it comes to the implimentation of Catholic morality. So, a 9 year old has to bear twins, just because some lunatic got her pregnant, and she has to live, not only with the physical consequences of that; she has to live with the psychological trauma of that. Same as the woman in Phoenix, who simply had to die because abortion is against Catholic morality. Complete mind-stunningly mad — all in pursuit of absolute morality. Absolute morality looks a lot like racial prejudice up close. I still think that part is true. And when you consider the absolute horror that is visited upon people around the world because the Catholic church opposes contraception and abortion, there’s a real statistical similarity between the consequences of Catholic morality and Nazi racism. But it was the sheer coldness of Feser’s morality in the face of human suffering that appals me, and will going on appalling me.
Yes, the descent of man; these atrocities happens when man thinks he has absolute knowledge. We should work harder to understand this and the severity of thinking *any* knowledge is absolute.
What a relief! I thought for a second it might be OLIVER Sacks.
No, Brian, definitely not Oliver Sacks. Rabbi Sacks’ first name is Jonathan.
A real deepity. Translation – it’s about believing things that aren’t true.
“Superficially profound and profoundly superficial”? Isn’t that “sophisticated” theology?
I hope you won’t think me malicious if I wish your snowblower causes you trouble more frequently – what a rousing read!
That’s telling them, Eric! I did one independently a few hours ago.
In fairness to Nora Parker, though, she got in a couple of shots.
“He distinguished these tone-deaf atheists from “atheists with a soul,” those intellectuals who see the failings of religion and want something better for humanity. (A false dichotomy, in this writer’s opinion, because it implies that the rejection of religion necessarily results in the adoption of nihilism.) Conversation with these humanist atheists, Sacks argued, results in the edification of both sides, and Taylor added, “We people of faith need atheists.” If that is indeed the case, one cannot help but wonder why an atheist was not invited to participate in this panel.”
Mild, but telling.
Yes, I agree, Ophelia, but really, most of it was of the low-end, sophomore variety, and I had just about heard enough, and been frustrated by other things all day, so I said to myself, “I’m going on holiday. I’m just going to let things rip.” Couldn’t you tell!
One of your best in a long line of consistently excellent work, Eric. A rousing read indeed! We need to find someone to poke you regularly with a sharp stick so you’ll produce more like this.
@ Pete Moulton (#13);
We need to find someone to poke you regularly with a sharp stick so you’ll produce more like this.
Seems that periodically sabotaging some of his gardening tools would be sufficient ….
Nora Parker here.
I do wish you had responded to my article first via the TRB comment section, so that I could have responded more promptly to your critique. Your failure to engage me in discussion is precisely the problem, as I see it, that faces people who would like to discuss religious questions but who – like myself – would not like to do so in a religious context. I seem unwelcome in your community that, quite frankly, I find fundamentalist in its own right. I admit I was very surprised to find such ad hominem attacks, both in your article and in the comments that follow, especially those regarding my degree and style of writing. (I would like to remind you all that ad hominem attacks are logical fallacies.) (Kevin: please keep your baggage about graduate students to yourself.)
The review was a report on the lecture and not a critique or opinion piece. Had I chosen to critique the evening and its speakers, I would have taken a harder line. Instead, I wanted to report on the event so that discussions like this one may occur. I do resent the fact that you have construed what was said by Sacks and Taylor with my own views. (If you must know, I am an atheist. Although I am interested in the study of being and the study of ethics, I find any answers to these questions – especially those provided by religion – to be fundamentally unsatisfying. As T. S. Eliot writes, “For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business.”) The style in which I chose to report on the lecture may be considered flowery, but just because a word is unfamiliar to a reader does not mean the writing is flowery. I would like to know exactly which words you think I misused. Upon rereading my article, I can’t find any, although some may be beyond some people’s vocabulary. I was writing for an online literary and cultural review, and assumed I could use a level of language higher than that of the average newspaper which is, I think, that of a seventh-grader. I would urge those who have qualms with my writing to look up two terms: tongue-in-cheek and parody. I adopted the language of the night in order to expose its folly. I’m glad you picked up on it.
As for your final paragraph: words fail. You assume that I am a believer, and such an assumption reveals how for you, writing about religion is tantamount to endorsing religion. This is no way for atheists to proceed. If you bother to reread the article, you’ll notice that I remark that there should have been an atheist present at the lecture. Your sarcasm throughout the article was immature, and takes away from the point you were trying to make.
I choose to not take a militant stance, and please distinguish author from subject in the future. Beware that your tone in this article is just as sanctimonious as the worst Bible-beater, just as polarizing and just as patronizing. I understand this is a blog and you can write whatever you want (writing for the TRB, however, demands that each article goes through an editor before being published), I ask you simply, to read more closely in the future. My thanks to Opelia Benson for doing so.
Next time you want to “let things rip,” find an inanimate punching bag.
(You may, or may not, be happy to learn that my days as a graduate student in English literature are over, and having completed my MA, I am now preparing to apply to medical school in the hopes of becoming a psychiatrist.)
PS: I think you meant “sophomoric” and not “sophomore”.
*Ophelia.
Nora, thanks for writing, and for putting a few things into better perspective. Indeed, as I notice now, more clearly, the point that Ophelia brought up did have a kind of substance that I did not recognise at the time. And while you say it is just a report on a lecture (?) — conversation? — by two believers, and not a critique, and though you do say, more clearly than I had noticed, because, to be frank, I find it hard to take either Sacks or Taylor seriously, that you are not a believer as I intimate (though you do rather overegg the pudding), and I was simply annoyed at the time, there is nothing in what I said that meant to exclude you from the discussion — though my petulant putdowns do, alas, suggest that.
But I did think, given the things that you say about the exchange between Sacks and Taylor, that it was more in need of a critique than simply a parenthetical qualification, especially the remark about religion as defeating improbabilities with possibilities, which is, as I say, such a superficially profound and profoundly superficial remark, which is hard to oversimplify — a genuine “deepity”, as one of the commenters remarks. A report of an event that was already past needed, I thought, to be given some astringent criticism, instead of leaving us with the impression that they had said something useful, for nothing that you mention amounts to that. That was my concern, and the general positive billing that you give to the two men, and to the throwaway suggestion that they made, and that you seem, at least, to lend some credence to, that the “new atheists” are really not worth the bother because they oversimplify so much, did rather push all of my buttons at once, I’m afraid, for I am no friend of religion, despite having served it for so long.
I congratulate you on your achievement, and wish you success in your future, and I do apologise for the unfriendly putdowns. It is not my usual tone, and may just have reflected my general annoyance at the time. I felt as though I was being preached to, and I do not respond well to that, though I had “preached” to others for so many years.