Many years ago I was
commissioned to write a short book on Atheism. I had already written a short
What is Philosophy? (Edward Arnold 1987) now republished on my www.selectedworks.co.uk site, and
thought I could deliver on Atheism. But I
couldn't. I found it emotionally difficult.
You could, for
starters, distinguish three kinds of atheism : ontological, epistemological and
moral.
Thinking about
what there is (ontology), you can argue that there is no need to postulate a
god to explain the universe and so, using Occam's Razor ( Don't imagine more
things than you have to ), don't postulate one. You can also argue that any
well-founded ontology looses its robustness or coherence once you start adding
a god into it. And so on. None of this interests me very much, though I read
some of the books.
Thinking about
how we know things (epistemology) you can argue that it's unknowable whether
there is or isn't a god - which leads to agnosticism rather than atheism - or
that there is no evidence pointing towards the existence of a god or that the
evidence points the other way. For example, the Problem of Evil (the theodicy
problem) suggests that even if there is a god, he, she or it isn't a good one
or isn't a powerful one. There's too much evil in the world. This is a bit more
interesting and I read quite a few books, notably John Hick, The Problem of Evil.
But my own
brand of atheism, such as it is, says that it is wrong to believe in god. It's
a moral question. I ended up with the following formulation: If a good god did
exist, he or she would not wish us to believe in him or her any more. Too many crimes have
now been committed in their name. To expand on that, there is now something
indecent about believing in god. From a slightly different angle, there is
something weak-willed about believing in god. It is too closely connected to
hedging one's bets, since in general (though for no compelling reason) belief
in god and belief in personal immortality are interlinked. Take away the promise
or threat of immortality and there is not much left of Christianity. The
Vatican would not be able to frighten anyone without immortality.
But whether or
not someone is a theist does not trouble me very much. In fact, from the
religious and theological literature I read from my teenage years on, I always
came away with respect for those who live quietly pious lives - I say
"quietly" because the lack of demonstrativeness is the core of the
piety. And I think there can be non-theist versions of that piety: paying
attention to someone, to something, is the natural piety of the soul.
What does
trouble me is organised religions. With very few exceptions, they are dreadful
outfits - mean spirited, cruel, corrupt, self-indulgent, full of hate towards
women and children. The Vatican - a totalitarian bureaucracy - has demonstrated
all that, continuously, for centuries.
So I want to
clip the wings of organised religions and keep them out of public life. No
state religions, no faith schools, no NHS hospital chaplains, no red carpets
for the big wigs, no tax breaks, no immunity from civil and criminal law.
That makes me
a secularist.
I am surprised
how weak we are in our dealings with organised religion. Mussolini granted the
Vatican recognition as a "state" because its bureaucrats wanted to
put themselves beyond the reach of ordinary civil and criminal law. That is
what the 1929 Lateran Pact is all about. Time to repudiate it. Send in the
tanks. No Vatican State, just a church whose bureaucrats, like all other
citizens, are subject to the laws of the country in which they live.
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