Books Discussed:
Richard Dawkins, The God Delusion
Marilynne Robinson, The Death of Adam
Mark Hulsether, Building a Protestant Left
Ludwig Wittgenstein, Culture and Value
Richard Dawkins’ best selling The God Delusion is a jeremiad against religion in general, one that seems particularly appealing to people of secular, liberal-left humanistic persuasion. This essay suggests that this is a great mistake, and examines the historical and philosophical sources of this error.
I know of two excellent reviews of Dawkins book, one by H. Allen Orr in The New York Review of Books, Jan 11, 2007, and one by Marilynne Robinson in Harper’s Magazine, Oct 23, 2006. I will make reference to them below.
Fundamental Arguments of The God Delusion.
Rarely is a non-fiction, serious book as easy to summarize as this one:
- Religion is a very bad thing.
- Religion is the source of most if not all of the evil in the world.
- The traditional proofs of the existence of God prove no such thing.
- The claim that believing in God makes you a better person is false.
- The differences between religious traditions are matters of hair-splitting and not worthy of attention by enlightened people.
- All trustworthy, valuable knowledge comes through science. Religion, standing outside of science, is therefore useless in helping us achieve any sort of true knowledge.
Let me lay out a summary of my critique of these theses:
Religion as a very bad thing.
This is such an enormously general value judgment as to be unworthy of serious consideration. The compelling nature of certain religious impulses will be flushed out below.
Religion as the source of most if not all of the evil in the world.
The evidence for this is rather weak, and the counter-evidence rather compelling. The history of the 20th century, in particular, argues for the falseness, even callousness, of this assertion.
The traditional proofs of the existence of God prove no such thing.
I grant the validity of this claim, which is hardly news. The implications for the other, more important issues are questionable, as I will attempt to show.
Believing in God does not make you a better person.
This is another almost wild generalization. Dawkins’ evidence is deeply flawed and fully anecdotal. Orr argues that Dawkins fails to see how profoundly the notion of ‘being a better person’ is deeply entangled with the western religious tradition; this may be correct, but I’m not sure we need to go that far in order to reject this claim.
The differences between religious traditions are matters of hair-splitting, not worthy of attention by enlightened people.
This claim is empirically false. I describe what I hope is a clear counter-example below.
All genuine knowledge comes through science. Since religion is not science, it is cannot provide such knowledge.
This is Dawkins’ most important claim, one that I believe is radically and profoundly false. I argue this below on philosophical grounds. Without the slightest intent to diminish the importance of science, or in any sense argue against the truth and importance of evolutionary biology, I will argue that Dawkins notion of knowledge is so narrow that the force and meaning of not only religion but many disciplines and cultural productions of humanity would be summarily dismissed if this claim were accepted.
Despite my negative assessment of this book, I believe that the emphatic popularity with which it has been received (as of this writing, The God Delusion has been on The New York Times’ Best Seller list for 30 consecutive weeks) reveals critical insights into our intellectual and political culture. It seems that we are unable to discuss real, concrete religious belief, thought, and action without resorting to caricature and polemical simplifications. We seem unable, in particular, to talk intelligently about Christianity; we are unable make sense of the growing religiosity of our society, and of other societies (in particular Islamic ones), except by seeing this development as a proto-fascist phenomena, created by brainwashing capitalists and mullahs to manipulate their populations. By describing what is defective and wrong-headed in The God Delusion, I hope to suggest other ways of thinking about these things that are more intellectually and politically useful.
Can I get a definition here?
or, Bewitchment by Language: The idea that there is such a thing as Religion in General is fallacious
The number of different movements or social groupings that are in common usage referred to as “religions” are legion: from the sadistic cruelty of Fred Phelps’ ‘ministry’ to the passionate reform movement led by Martin Luther King, from the messianic movement of Sabbatai Zevi (1626-76) to the equally bizarre Aimee Semple McPherson, and from the left wing Catholic quasi-mysticism of Dennis Kucinich to the God Wants You to be Wealthy and Vote Republican churches, the roll call of the saintly, villainous, deranged, eccentric and courageous in ‘religion’ is endless.
I challenge the reader to state what all of the astonishing varieties of human behavior and belief that are termed “religious” have in common. I do not believe there is anything they have in common. The automatic assumption we make when we presume to speak of “religion,” namely there is some definable thing with that name, shows that we easily fall into what Wittgenstein called “bewitchment by language”—that is, if we have a noun, there must be a thing which it designates. But this noun, religion, is so elastic as to be unhelpful in describing, much less comprehending, any particular form of it.
Most of the time, when people in the west talk of religion, they are talking about Christianity. But even here we have problems. Note that although five of the six religionists I named above were Christians, it still is quite reasonable to ask if they had anything in common. Perhaps they do all proclaim allegiance to some being, real or mythic, known as Jesus Christ; but surely it is plausible to suggest that what we have here is five different beings sharing the same name.
Dawkins Decks Aristotle
The one major claim in The God Delusion that seems straightforwardly correct is the refutation, or dismissal, of the traditional arguments for the existence of God. As Orr demonstrates, there is very little new here. Dawkins’ assertions are largely repetitions of arguments made roughly a century ago by another British thinker, Bertrand Russell. Lord Russell was also uninterested in religion as it was actually practiced, and though he condescended to those of lesser intellect who took Christianity seriously, he seems a model of civility compared to Dawkins’ monotonously mocking, indignant tone and snide belligerence. I refer the reader who is interested in these arguments for God’s existence, and in the comparison to Russell, to Orr’s excellent review. I decline to discuss these “philosophical” issues at length, though I grant that they are substantially correct, because this entire anti-theological tradition from Russell to Dawkins is so obtusely unaware that ‘proofs’ of the ‘existence’ of ‘God’ have next to nothing to do with actual modern Christian belief. Let me put this another way: nothing in the world changes because of, or is affected by, the “truth” or “falsity” of these exercises in abstract thought. Actual human belief and action is untouched [My quotes around words such as 'proof', "God," "truth," etc, are meant to indicate that I am dubious that we know what we mean when we use these words in this context].
It is very strange, therefore, for Dawkins to believe that people might join or leave the church based on their agreement or disagreement with Aristotle’s notion that a ‘Prime Mover’ is necessary to explain the world. Dawkins does believe this, or says that he does: he stresses he is out to convert people from monotheism to atheism. Dawkins can think this way because he is utterly intellectually isolated from religion as it actually functions in the lives of people in our society. He assumes that what goes on in his head about religion is more interesting and important than the lived experience, thoughts, and feelings of the people for whom religion is real, alive, and compelling. In other words, his thoughts about his subject are more important than actual knowledge of his subject, or the subject itself.
Theological logic-chopping, Pacifism, and World War
According to Dawkins, differences between different types of monotheism are not worthy of note, and are in fact a sort of foolishness: “Splitting Christendom by splitting hairs: such has also been the way of theology” [p.33]. And then: “…All three Abrahamic religions can be treated as indistinguishable” [p.37]. Let me give one interesting counterexample, from Mark Hulsether’s “Building a Protestant left.” Staring in 1941, the journal Christianity in Crisis disputed theology and politics with The Christian Century, a somewhat older liberal Protestant periodical. The Christian Century preached the Social Gospel, a progressive reformist and pacifist creed that emphasized the importance of carrying on Jesus’ ministry to the poor and oppressed. One would not even know such a form of ‘monotheism’ exists from reading Dawkins. Christianity and Crisis was founded by Reinhold Neibuhr and colleagues, splitting from the Century over several issues, especially whether to enter World War II against the Axis powers. To both sides in this argument, theology and politics were intertwined. The hair splitting here, then, was whether to fight Hitler or not. Similarly, the history of religion schism often turns on very real world issues: the struggles between the Catholic Church, Martin Luther, and John Calvin centered on issues of monarchy, aristocracy, freedom of thought, and democracy. These are surely issues at the center of the humanistic tradition. Dawkins’ ultra-simplification of the entire breadth of Jewish, Christian, and Islamic religion into some indistinguishable foolish thing called monotheism shows, I think, the ahistorical superficiality of his so-called humanism.
The Repressed Returns – Scientific Knowledge, Human Being, and Self-Knowledge
At the other end of the philosophical spectrum from the abstract discussions of supernatural beings and creation myths, are questions about human identity, about what the self is, about how people decide what is real and what is important and what is good, and how they should live their lives. It is in this context that I challenge the most important claim Dawkins makes, about science being the fundamental source of human knowledge. Do we know who we are through neurochemistry? Are the various political and ethical spins put on the notion of “survival of the fittest” actual knowledge, or polemical exercises? The most important thing – the most important kind of knowledge – for most of us – is the sense of who we are, what goes on in our minds and hearts as we make our way through our lives, discover what we care about, choose (or are compelled to choose) our vocation, decide who to live with, and where, struggle to learn how to make ourselves happy, and how to love and be loved. How do we know these things? How do we know who we are, and what we should focus on while we live in this world? The answers to these questions are, of course, notoriously controversial. But how much does science, physics, chemistry, biology, neurology, electrical engineering, primatology, aeronautics, or meteorology, help us in these critical human concerns?
Some people would answer “quite a lot.” One sees repeated articles in places like The New York Times Magazine or its Book Review claiming to establish scientific bases for ethical and political decisions. For example, the argument that altruism is an evolutionary enhancement in the human species, allowing complex societies and civilizations to develop, based on the cooperative instincts that altruism enables. There are many versions of themes like this, and of course their opposite, which is that humans, “like all animals,” are naturally selfish and naturally often brutal, and that therefore ethical codes like “love thy neighbor as thyself” are utopian and doomed to fail. It seems to me that if one knows what science is – a discipline involving repeatable experiments, measurable data, peer review, and dispassionate observation – it becomes clear that these arguments are metaphorical extensions of science into the realm of ethics and politics. Though the people making these arguments are often well-intentioned, they fail to see that this sort of argument is of the same nature as the more pernicious doctrines of social Darwinism and eugenics. Robinson is particularly eloquent on this point, in her review of Dawkins, and even more in chapter 1, “Darwinism,” in The Death of Adam.
In fact, where most of us look, consciously or not, for answers to life’s big questions is various forms of fictional and artistic creations, in novels, poetry, theatre, movies, psychology, therapy, music, philosophy, and religion. Of all these cultural forms only psychology pretends, in my view unsuccessfully, to be a science. This does not mean that any of these central human activities are useless or foolish or superstitious or irrational, or that the knowledge gained through them is unreal; on the contrary, they are the arts/disciplines that human being and human societies have developed to try to understand and even improve themselves. They help us know ourselves. If someone’s definition of knowledge does not include this kind of knowing, it would seem a deficient definition.
History, Sociology, Journalism, and Gossip
Our language and our traditions encourage us to blithely speak generally about religious belief and religion. I believe this is a drastic mistake, because I do not believe that all the things that are called religious have any common denominator. I do not even believe that all the things that are called Christianity have of a common essence. On these grounds, the notion that ‘religion does not make people better’ is not even a meaningful proposition, much less a true one. One must define what religion, and even what type of that specific religion one means to be speaking of, before sensible claims about it can be made. A general and vague a proposition – that would cover all people in all classes and walks of life, in all religions, all societies, and all historical epochs – is inherently foolish: can we imagine what evidence could be brought to establish or disprove it? So it is not surprising to find, as Orr thoroughly documents, that the kind of evidence that Dawkins supplies is entirely anecdotal. A chance remark by a Bishop shows how insipid the Christian view of death is; a remark by a nurse shows the cowardice of Christians in the face of illness. Based on anecdotes such as these, Dawkins pontificates about who is moral and who is not in a rather random and disorganized fashion. Serious thoughtful analyses of these issues do not interest him. He seems glad to not be limited by knowledge, and thus free to tell us what is true and good and what is false, stupid, or irrational. Because of this cavalier attitude toward evidence, careful reasoning, and scholarship, the arguments in this part of the book dissolve into (barely) intellectual gossip. It is disappointing and depressing to see someone trained in the rigorous canons of scientific evidence, in serious evolutionary biology, reason this way.
Why So Many Intelligent People Love This Book
The popularity of this book would seem enigmatic. How could such an anti-Christian screed be so popular in an overwhelmingly Christian nation? (I adapt the phrase “Christian Nation” from the title of the latest book by Dawkins’ colleague Sam Harris). If, as polls allegedly regularly confirm, 85 to 95 percent of Americans are believers, who is buying up the copies of this book? Only a small number could be perverse enough to enjoy it as a kind of transgressive theological pornography. But If I am right about this books’ intellectual insubstantiality, why would the 5 to 15 percent of us non-believers embrace it so passionately?
Dawkins’ ignorance of and incuriosity about the very thing he attacks, religion, especially American and British religion, is a clue to the appeal of this book. The history of religion in America is a strange and fearsome tale. The actual beliefs, attitudes and behavior of religious persons, institutions, and movements are not easily catalogued or narrated, much less understood. Yet they are barely discussed, hardly noticed, in this book. If Dawkins was interested or curious about these things, if he didn’t feel so sunnily omniscient about them, there is much history and anthropology he could read to find out how religion manifested itself in the lives of earlier and other societies. There are also sociological works and serious journalism to let him consider and try to comprehend the many varieties of religious movements in the contemporary world. But Dawkins assumes that deeper knowledge about the past and sharper observation of the present are irrelevant to his task. This, I believe is the most important aspect of this book: its popularity among liberal secular intellectuals reveals our willingness to cheer him on in a remarkably vociferous and extravagantly uncompassionate denigration of the beliefs and feelings of most of his fellow citizens and fellow humanity.
Why This Really Matters
Dawkins assumes that he can generalize about and refute the beliefs of what we call religion. This is an illusion, based on a superficial caricature of what religion is. The image of bigoted, irrational, anti-scientific not-very-sharp blockheads is the focus for his attacks. In every century a thousand varieties of religious belief are born, flourish, die out, linger and then flourish again. It would no doubt come as a surprise to Dawkins (and to most secular intellectuals) to find that in the present moment in America the evangelical movement continues to grow, while the fundamentalist part of that movement declines. Not only the beliefs, but the social and political activities of these many religious tendencies are often radically opposed to each other. The gap between this complex reality and the simplistic straw men mocked in The God Delusion prevents this book from being a genuine contribution, even a hostile one, to the understanding of religion. Orr acutely describes Dawkins stance and style as ‘defiantly middlebrow.’ Perhaps this is too kind.
This would all be unimportant, just another ill-considered book by a scientist who has wandered out of the safer pastures of his expertise into the treacherous terrain of the real world, were it not for this: Dawkins’ willful incuriosity about religion is shared by, and representative of, most of contemporary secular liberal-left thought. The wholesale dismissal of serious religion thought, belief, and life is so commonplace in academic/intellectual circumstances that it is usually not noticed. Of course the more ‘New Age,’ often ersatz, varieties of religion do get some airtime, as long as they don’t go anywhere near monotheism. Zen is surely very Zen. But major thinkers in the modern era who took pains to understand religion thoughtfully, sometimes even sympathetically, are taken seriously after the religious content of their work is filtered out. The list of such thinkers is very long: Rilke, Wittgenstein, Kierkegaard, Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, Shakespeare, Kafka, Kant, Neibuhr, M.L. King, and William James for a start. The three greatest artists in the Western tradition, Shakespeare, J.S. Bach, and Mozart, were suffused with religious belief and passion. Nietzsche, Marx, Freud and Camus all felt that a subtle, complex analysis of what religion is about was critical to serious philosophy, sociology, psychology, and political theory. But all these contributions to our understanding are consigned to the trash bin of history by the dominant assumption that religion is largely the domain of right wing bigots like Pat Robertson, and that intelligent grownups now disdain it as a relic of a superstitious past. I suggest that this is an ideological, not a thoughtful, stance.
Evidence of both a collective and individual kind to contradict this contemporary view is overwhelming. This list of modern, subtle thinkers who have struggled with the meaning of and truth/falsity of Christianity, mentioned in the last paragraph, is evidence on the individual level. On the collective, various forms of Christianity are growing, and growing most quickly, not among people who live in trailer parks, but among successful real estate brokers, technology workers, corporate middle managers, and other prosperous members of the middle class. It is not level or education or ability to reason that determines whether people are drawn to the Christian message. Then what is it?
Why People Believe:
What People believe about How to Live in this World
What separates those who think religion is atavistic and pernicious from those who find it necessary to live a meaningful life? It is clear that it is not level of education, or geography, or ethnicity, or race. To answer this, let us position the questions about self-understanding and life choices described above, in the context of life in contemporary society. What world do people have to adapt to while they are growing up and deciding who they are and what they want to be? To me, and I have reason to believe I am not alone, it is a preposterously inane televised world, dominated by foolish celebrities, tabloid violence, ever more intrusive commercial manipulations of our least noble instincts, the prospect of a series of crassly hypocritical wars against nations our government nominates as Satan of the Year, all within an economic system that grows more unjust and more violent every day, and a coming ecological cataclysm we ruefully celebrate every Earth Day. This emphatically distressing reality calls forth emergency adaptive mechanisms, at least for people who assumed they would get to live in a world less predatory, more innocently enjoyable, more just, and less emotionally brutalizing. For those who do not or can not block most of this out, despair about the nature and prospects for human life abounds. The kind of ‘Enlightenment’ world view that Dawkins has, which he says we are getting ever closer too as science spreads and superstition recedes, implies a secular politics which holds out the hope that by understanding the world one can work to transform it into a better one. Oppositely, many forms of Christianity claim to offer a refuge from this evil world, a place where people can trust each other, shield each other from the depredations of ‘pagan’ commercialized society, and through trying to be a good person and by having faith, offer the hope that life can be endured, enjoyed, and/or transcended.
For much of the 20th century, the enlightenment-secular viewpoint seemed ascendant, at least among the educated classes in the West. It was assumed by many that progress in science, in rationality, in democracy, would lead to a world where individuality, freedom of thought, and creativity would flourish. Similarly, it seemed inevitable that the kind of religion based on promises of salvation from this world would wither away. Yet, except for some very limited time slices in some very limited places, this did not widely come about. Seen in this light, the religious impulse seems quite other than the bigoted irrationality that the dominant paradigm portrays it to be. The last 70 years of the 20th century were dominated by Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, Kissinger, Pinochet, Reagan, and Bush. As Orr says, the 20th century can be seen as experiment in secularism, with nightmarish results. So why should it be surprising, as Robinson puts it, that a public used to living under policies with names like Mutually Assured Destruction, that is, world wide imminent catastrophe, should turn to apocalyptic beliefs? For so many people, independent of religious upbringing, the desire to be saved from this world of sin, of normative greed, and violence, is very powerful. It would seem rather hard-hearted to dismiss as foolish this alarmed response to an alarming world. This is what people turn to when they turn to Christianity: Shelter from the Storm. The Balm in Gilead, which heals the sin-sick soul, and makes the wounded whole.
Happy Trails through Classlessness at Oxford
It is no accident that the world as described in these last two paragraphs does not appear in Dawkins’ book. This is not because he is uninterested about the state of the world; on the contrary he offers many opinions about it. But language again easily leads us astray: the world that Dawkins inhabits and talks about is not the world most of us have to live in. The prosperous and privileged life of an professor with a prestigious chair at Oxford encourages fanciful notions about the past, present, and future. He opines that we are experiencing an evolving paradigm of tolerance, love of science, and the decline of the superstitious thought forms of religion. He sees this happening now, and believes it has been happening for centuries. Recent trends toward churchliness and bigotry, he reassures us, is a temporary aberration, caused by the unhappy accident of the current administration in Washington. The old cliche about well paid professors living in an ivory tower seems irresistible here. In Dawkins’ world, all is well; no one starves, no one dies for want of medicine, no one turns to the church to get the social services that Thatcher, Reagan and Bush eliminated from the secular state, and, by the by, racism is withering away. Perhaps all is in fact well in Richard Dawkins’ world. But most of the rest of us face very different prospects, and often turn for solace to beliefs more quaint than those of abstract logic and self-satisfied empiricism.
Topics for Further Consideration
- Richard Dawkins’ reputation is that of an enlightened, humanistic man of science. He holds the Chair for the Public Understanding of Science at Oxford University. Yet, according to my analysis, he relentlessly wages an illiberal, dogmatic and polemical rhetorical war against all religious belief, and indeed against scientists who disagree with him on the implications of evolutionary biology for ethics, philosophy, and religion. How can this discrepancy be explained?
- Dawkins repeatedly asks for ‘Darwinian’ answers to a host of questions, especially the one that I think is fairly paraphrased thusly: How could rational beings believe in any thing as ridiculous as religion? He plays with answering this by reference to the concept of ‘memes,’ a term he invented 30 years ago. The thrust of this concept seems to be to lay the foundation for explanation of social and intellectual phenomena in terms of something analogous to natural selection, i.e. in a Darwinian manner. Is this a useful or profitable mode of explanation? To what extent is ‘Darwinism’ useful outside of its traditional realm, biology? I hope to consider these issues in a future essay.
Bob Mason, May 4, 2007