Showing posts with label pz myers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pz myers. Show all posts

A Tent-Show Evangelist for Reason

I've realized, or decided, that I haven't taken enough pot shots at PZ Myers, but then in a certain earlier post my target was mostly Charlotte Allen. But when I looked again at Myers's rebuttal of Allen, I saw all kinds of things that confirmed that being an atheist (and a scientist!) isn't enough to make you rational.

Folks, we really have to sort out the party line first! Are we atheists "Brights," as Daniel Dennett and Richard Dawkins would have it, and therefore superior to the credulous retarded Dulls, or are we boring ordinary folks as Myers would have it, Norman Normals just like you and me? (Dennett cautions, "Don't confuse the noun with the adjective: 'I'm a bright' is not a boast but a proud avowal of an inquisitive world view." Sure it isn't a boast. Neither was "bolshevik." Neither is "orthodox.")

"Bright" rubs me the wrong way, much as "gay" annoys some older gays. But there are differences: "gay" was already a widespread ingroup term before we went public with it, while "bright" really does seem to be a conscious PR attempt to put a happy face on atheism. But just as a faggot is a homosexual gentleman who's stepped out of the room, a bright who has stepped out of the room will always be an atheist. And really, shouldn't a professional philosopher know better than to think that gays and atheists are hated because of what they're called?

I think that Myers sides with Dennett on this one, but with stunning rationality, he tries to have it both ways. On one hand, atheists are boring ordinary folks; on the other hand, for some unclear reason "in our books, blogs and media appearances, we challenge religious preconceptions. That's all we do."

Well, it's not quite all we do.
It's admittedly not exactly a roller-coaster ride of thrills, but it does annoy the superstitious and the fervent true believers in things unseen and unevidenced. We are also, admittedly, often abrasive in being outspoken critics of religious dogma, but it's also very hard to restrain our laughter and contempt when we see the spectacle of god-belief in full flower.

We witness many people who proudly declare that the Earth was created 6,000 years ago, roughly 9,000 years after the domestication of dogs, 5,000 years after the founding of Jericho and contemporaneous with the invention of the plow. They cling to these beliefs despite contradictions with history, let alone physics, geology and biology, because they believe the Bible is a literal history and science text. We find much to ridicule in these peculiarly unreal ideas.
Now, as my readers (both of them) will know, I find much to ridicule in religion, as in many other areas. Nor do I see anything wrong with being an abrasive and outspoken critic of anything. I believe that most people enjoy abrasive and outspoken criticism of the right targets: for Charlotte Allen, it's atheists and snide Bible scholars. Most religious believers are quite happy to attack religion, as long as it's someone else's religion. Scientists are happy to attack each other. Republicans attack wimpy appeasing liberals, Democrats attack wingnuts who say "nukular." And most of them are united in deploring the lack of civility and empathy in today's world. Can't we all just get along?

The same goes for accusations of "arrogance." Yes, many atheists are pretty self-righteous. So are many believers. Believers do think they have the answers -- maybe not all of them, but the answers that count. Arrogance is not a quality that anyone has a monopoly on. Complaining about someone else's arrogance is usually a bit disingenuous.

The thing is, though, Allen was right on one point: a lot of atheists, including prominent ones, do play the victim card. Myers asks plaintively, if rhetorically, why Allen is "so mad at" atheists. (Charlotte, why are you so negative and bitter? If you'd just let Dawkins into your heart, he'd take the hate away.) In Dennett's "Brights" article, though he admitted that as a white professional male he has it relatively easy, he complained of being kept down by the Man, and of the courage it takes to "come out" as a Bright. Gag me with a spoon. But then, Christians love to play the victim card too. Even though they are an overwhelming majority in this country, they complain that they're being picked on by the godless secularists who won't let them pray in school, stone adulteresses, or burn faggots.

On the other hand, I don't believe that atheists are unpopular because of our arrogance either. Our arrogance is partly a defensive reaction to our unpopularity. And the accusation of arrogance comes partly from people who don't know how to answer our criticisms of religion, and don't want to be bothered in the first place, so they lash out. We can see this in other arenas, where inconvenient and discomforting arguments are met with accusations of "anti-American," "anti-Semitism," "anti-science." Or E. O. Wilson's delicious "Multiculturalism equals relativism equals no supercollider equals communism." (He says that like it's a bad thing.) Pat Robertson or Rush Limbaugh couldn't have put it better. When you find yourself using the intellectually bankrupt debating moves of your opponents, and you don't even realize you're doing it, you're in trouble.

Myers's focus on the "literalist" young-Earthers carries some elements of class disdain, too. In this area he'd find that many believers are his allies. Respectable Christians have always looked down on the riffraff with their backward beliefs, their noisy enthusiasm, their speaking in tongues, and you don't have to be an atheist to oppose Creationism. Much of the disdain for the New Atheists comes from a similar source, I think: Dawkins and Dennett and Harris come off like tent-show evangelists, they enjoy outraging the devout as much as a street-corner preacher loves to discomfit the impious. (And as a former boyfriend of mine pointed out about the outdoor preachers who troubled the spiritual waters at IU some years ago, college students are still high-school students at heart, terrified of standing out in a way that would make them look foolish -- yet here is this guy who does it willingly, unafraid of being jeered at. Being made fun of is supposed to send you scurrying back to the safety of the herd, yet this guy thrives on it.)

Some of the New Atheists' critics fall back on paternalism: they don't need faith, but think of the simple folk, the lower orders who rely on religion to give them Hope in a heartless world. The New Atheists cruelly want to strip them of the support their faith gives them, the only thing that makes it possible for them to drag themselves through their drab little lives. This also turns up in the "atheist bus" campaign, which aims to liberate the masses from the yoke of religion.

But an atheist cannot stop at going after the ignorant masses, who only account for part of Myers's "majority of the population [who] are quite convinced that they have a direct pipeline to an omnipotent, omniscient being who has told them exactly how to live and what is right and wrong, and has spelled out his divine will in holy books." The rest of American believers include people who believe in Evolution (Darwin said it, I believe it, that settles it!) and a flat earth, vote Democratic, support gay marriage -- and they're sure that God agrees with them. Most of the gay supporters of same-sex marriage are probably religious, like most gay people, even if they claim that what they want are "equal rights" and the secular special rights that marriage gives. So here's a question: if someone believes that God wants gay people to have equal rights, or opposes the war in Iraq, do these religious beliefs suddenly become acceptable just because they happen to agree with the beliefs a secularist holds? (One thing I like about Katha Pollitt, despite my many disagreements with her, is that she has criticized liberal and progressive religion as much as the reactionary brands.)

Myers is a bit vague on this in his op-ed: he segues so smoothly from the young-Earth nutters to the larger body of theists that I still can't quite find the transition point. He seems to think that the nice liberal middle-class churches also foster "a bizarre collection of antiquated superstitions", and I give him points for criticizing the attempts to find God in particle physics, but if he really wants to make some noise in the L. A. Times, he should spend more time on the respectable, sophisticated, educated religion of people like Jim Wallis (whom he has criticized at his blog, I see), than on the fish-in-a-barrel Creationists that are his favorite target.

It's noteworthy, I think, that Myers responded to Allen's criticisms with rhetoric rather than reason. Why is she so mean? Why don't people like us when all we do is make fun of their stupid superstitions? (I've been accused of this latter one, but I don't think I complain because people object to my criticisms of their beliefs and opinions -- I complain because they don't show where my criticisms are wrong.) We're just like everybody else, except that we're not stupid credulous fools. I probably agree with Myers on principles and cases in most areas; but as a campaigner for unbelief, he's not very inspiring.

A Tent-Show Evangelist for Reason

I've realized, or decided, that I haven't taken enough pot shots at PZ Myers, but then in a certain earlier post my target was mostly Charlotte Allen. But when I looked again at Myers's rebuttal of Allen, I saw all kinds of things that confirmed that being an atheist (and a scientist!) isn't enough to make you rational.Folks, we really have to sort out the party line first! Are we atheists "

A Tent-Show Evangelist for Reason

I've realized, or decided, that I haven't taken enough pot shots at PZ Myers, but then in a certain earlier post my target was mostly Charlotte Allen. But when I looked again at Myers's rebuttal of Allen, I saw all kinds of things that confirmed that being an atheist (and a scientist!) isn't enough to make you rational.Folks, we really have to sort out the party line first! Are we atheists "

Are You There, God? It's Me, Charlotte



The big news in Korea today is that North Korea has detonated what appears to be an underground nuclear explosion, much larger than the previous test in 2006. It's still a small blast by superpower standards, about 10 to 20 kilotons, or roughly the size of the bombs America dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. President Obama, taking a break from killing civilians in Afghanistan and shielding known torturers from prosecution, denounced North Korea as a "threat to international peace and security" and a violation of international law. So, nothing special.

The other day Lisa Kansas at PunkAssBlog posted an item about an L.A. Times op-ed piece by Charlotte Allen. Allen, Lisa pointed out, had distinguished herself last year with a Washington Post op-ed fretting over Obama's popularity among women: "[R]eading about such episodes of screaming, gushing and swooning makes me wonder whether women -- I should say, "we women," of course -- aren't the weaker sex after all. Or even the stupid sex, our brains permanently occluded by random emotions, psychosomatic flailings and distraction by the superficial. ...I'm not the only woman who's dumbfounded (as it were) by our sex, or rather, as we prefer to put it, by other members of our sex besides us." (Notice that Allen doesn't cop to being dumb herself; it's only "other members of our sex besides us" who are guilty.) Ah yes, I remember it well; Allen's self-exemplifying complaint attracted some attention in the blogosphere.

Allen's new piece was a gripefest about atheists, especially the New Atheists who've been getting some media play in the last few years. She can't stand atheists, Allen says, "not because they don't believe in God. It's because they're crashing bores." (Obviously she's never been to an eight-hour prayer meeting.) Also, we play the victim card: Allen claims that in Sam Harris's online "Atheist Manifesto" he whines that atheists can't get elected to public office because of "[a]ntique clauses in the constitutions of six -- count 'em -- states barring atheists from office." But I can't find any mention of those clauses in Harris's piece; facts -- who needs 'em when you've got Truth on your side?

The "victim" line is never very convincing -- the straights who profess to be bored by gays, protesting that nobody cares what we do in bed, but the love that formerly dared not speak its name now won't shut up; the whites who complain that they're tired of hearing about blacks' problems, don't they know that they've got their Civil Rights? And so on. PZ Myers, science blogger, generously supported Allen's case by writing a boringly earnest rebuttal, full of passive-aggressive sarcasm, which the editor mischievously printed. I'd like to believe that when he asked why Allen hates atheists so much when we're just ordinary boring folks, he was being satirical. (I've taken pot shots at Myers before.)

But Charlotte Allen, Charlotte Allen ... that name sounded familiar. Ah yes, the author of the tome The Human Christ: the Search for the Historical Jesus (The Free Press, 1998), which your Promiscuous Reader slogged through a decade ago. Katha Pollitt averred that Allen was "by accounts a good reporter on religion in a previous life"; but The Human Christ established her to be every bit as accurate and thoughtful on religion as she is on women and atheism.

First Allen offered a summary of Christian history, including choice bits like this:
Christians were also regarded, sometimes with good reason, as lunatics. Many were convinced that they world was coming to an end, and that Jesus would return in their own lifetimes. Paul of Tarsus devoted one of his letters to an unhinged Christian community in the Greek port of Thessalonica, urging them not to leave their jobs because the apocalypse might not be so close at hand as they imagined [page 45].
Among those who were "convinced that the world was coming to an end, and that Jesus would return in their lifetimes" was Paul himself, along with the authors of the gospels and several other New Testament writers. What Paul wrote to the Thessalonians was that they should not believe that the day of the Lord had come (2 Thessalonians 2.2). He assured them that it would come. The belief that Jesus would return in his followers' lifetimes (and therefore, in those of Paul's congregations) turns up in Mark 13.30, where Jesus assures his disciples that "This generation shall not pass away until all these things" -- Jerusalem circled by armies, the destruction of the Temple, the gospel preached to all nations, Jesus' return on clouds at God's right hand -- "are fulfilled." (The same saying appears in Matthew 24:34 and Luke 21:32.) Two verses later Jesus qualifies the prediction somewhat, by saying that only the Father knows the exact day, not even the Son, but this doesn't contradict the basic claim. ("I'll come to see you by the end of next week, but I don't know exactly what day" is not a contradiction.) If the early Christians were sometimes seen as lunatics, factors like speaking in tongues or worshipping a crucified man were at least as prominent for outsiders.

Allen should have known better -- the importance of what scholars call "eschatology" gets a lot of coverage by professional Bible scholars, ever since the great New Testament scholar (and Bach scholar, and humanitarian doctor) Albert Schweitzer established the importance of this theme in his book The Quest for the Historical Jesus, first published in 1906. It's far from her only distortion of early Christian history. But those "professional Bible scholars" are the rub for her. Most of The Human Christ is an attack on contemporary New Testament scholarship, which she represents as an attack on Christian faith. One could even say she whines about it, just like those boring atheists do about how they get picked on. For example, on the prominent German theologian Rudolf Bultmann:
In his treatise, Bultmann rather tendentiously maintained that a literalistic interpretation of the events narrated in the Gospels required a belief in an archaic physical universe, a three-decker structure with heaven on top, earth in the middle, and hell below. In so doing, he seemed to be making fun of the New Testament mindset at a time when faith in the Christ of the New Testament was for many the only locus of hope in a world that had turned into a nightmare [246-247].
This is a (willed?) misunderstanding in many respects. It's not exactly "tendentious" to point out that the New Testament writers all believed more or less literally in the triple-decker universe Allen describes here; it's mere historical fact. If an insistence on historical accuracy is "making fun of the New Testament mindset," then I guess accuracy must go (Allen clearly wouldn't miss it), but I think this is her perception, not Bultmann's intent: he was, after all, a Confessing Christian as well as an academic. Also, Bultmann's approach to the New Testament was in progress before the Nazis came to power, building on earlier scholarship from the end of the nineteen century: the first edition of his History of the Synoptic Tradition was published in 1921, a dozen years before Hitler's accession to power.

Allen then goes after "form-redaction criticism", as she calls it. Form criticism ("form history" would be a more accurate translation of Formgeschichte) was a tool used by Bultmann and other scholars to "classif[y] units of scripture by literary pattern (such as parables or legends) and ... [to attempt] to trace each type to its period of oral transmission. Form criticism seeks to determine a unit's original form and the historical context of the literary tradition." Redaction criticism, building on form criticism, "does not look at the various parts of a narrative to discover the original genre; instead, it focuses on how the redactor has shaped and molded the narrative to express his theological goals." Allen says:
The entire form-redaction movement was based on the assumption that people simply cannot transmit a lengthy story with any reasonable degree of accuracy, and therefore none of the layers above the bedrock aphorisms reflected genuine memories of Jesus. While those who study the telling of folk-tales and folk-epics in living oral cultures might beg to differ, the redactionists insisted that the Gospels were entirely fictional, with the exception of a few sayings of Jesus that revealed his historical personality.
The trouble here is that the gospels themselves are evidence that "people simply cannot transmit a lengthy story with any reasonable degree of accuracy": the discrepancies and contradictions in the gospels in their recounting of key events like the birth of Jesus, his baptism by John, his death, and his resurrection are well-known. Biblical criticism was an attempt to understand them, and if possible to minimize or defuse them. (The word "criticism" is a problem for many people: for most people it carries overtones of negative and destructive carping, but in academia it means merely analytic study of literary material. It appears to me that Allen never quite managed to grasp this, and still believes that "biblical criticism" means "trying to tear Scripture down.") Form criticism especially was built on what was known at the time about how "living oral cultures" preserved and transmitted traditions.

Still, thanks partly to Bultmann's influence, the Quest for the Historical Jesus was largely abandoned by New Testament scholars for a long time. Also, though, it was due to Schweitzer's success, which indicated that the Quest would lead to uncomfortable conclusions about Jesus and early Christianity. For Bultmann and other Christian scholars, the aim was to find truths and meanings in the New Testament that would be useful to ordinary twentieth-century believers -- to build up their faith, not destroy it.

But in 1959, the American scholar James M. Robinson called for a New Quest for the Historical Jesus in his book of that title (SCM Press, 1959). In 1971, with Helmut Koester he published Trajectories through Early Christianity (Fortress Press). Allen doesn't like the new quest any better:
Other scholars of the New Quest took up Norman Perrin's position that the historical Jesus was a countercultural figure and reconstructed a countercultural Jesus who thumbed his nose at authority. The most arresting such portrait of Jesus was that of Morton Smith, a history professor at Columbia University who had read Trajectories through Early Christianity. In 1973, Smith published a startling monograph titled The Secret Gospel, which recast Jesus as a kind of bathhouse shaman who had initiated his (mostly male) disciples by means of late-night baptismal rituals featuring nudity and most probably sex. To support his unusual hypothesis, Smith relied heavily on trajectory theory, contending that the church fathers had suppressed nearly all documents relating to this particular strand of Jesus-tradition [265].
I don't think that a "countercultural" Jesus is such an outrageous concept. According to the gospels, Jesus did "thumb his nose at [human] authority," flouting mainstream interpretations of the Torah, breaking with his family, and so on. If Allen doesn't like the word "countercultural," she needs to come up with a better one for Jesus' conduct. With her mention of Morton Smith, though, she really shines. The Secret Gospel (Harper, 1973) was not a "monograph" but a popularization of the research in Smith's actual monograph Clement of Alexandria and a Secret Gospel of Mark (Harvard, 1973). I've addressed the prurient fascination of Allen and others with bathhouse shamans and nekked rituals before, so for now I'll just say that she distorts Smith's thesis as badly as she does everyone else's. As for Smith's relying heavily on trajectory theory, Trajectories was published in 1971, but although Clement of Alexandria was published in 1973, it was written and submitted to the press in the early 1960s. I recall that Smith occasionally referred to Trajectories, but in his later book Jesus the Magician (Harper, 1978). But hey, Morton Smith was so "avant-garde" (Allen's favorite putdown for scholars she dislikes) that he could be influenced by Trajectories through Early Christianity even before it was written!

One last bit from The Human Christ, which shows Charlotte Allen's historical sapience and deep spiritual concern for other human beings: on page 284 she remarks that "liberation theology suffered a mortal blow in the 1990 elections in Nicaragua when the people decided they did not want to be ruled by high-minded Marxists..." It would only be fair of Allen to mention that Liberation Theology, or even high-minded Marxism, was less a deciding factor in the 1990 Nicaraguan elections than a decade of economic strangulation and terrorist attacks by the US-funded Contras. But hey, history is bunk.

So, who cares if Charlotte Allen likes atheists? Not me. It's somewhat entertaining, but not very, to see her and PZ Myers engage in competitive posturing about who's the victim and who's most boring. Reminded me of Max Beerbohm's ballad in which two courtiers debate who is duller, the King or the Queen.

Are You There, God? It's Me, Charlotte

The big news in Korea today is that North Korea has detonated what appears to be an underground nuclear explosion, much larger than the previous test in 2006. It's still a small blast by superpower standards, about 10 to 20 kilotons, or roughly the size of the bombs America dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. President Obama, taking a break from killing civilians in Afghanistan and

Are You There, God? It's Me, Charlotte

The big news in Korea today is that North Korea has detonated what appears to be an underground nuclear explosion, much larger than the previous test in 2006. It's still a small blast by superpower standards, about 10 to 20 kilotons, or roughly the size of the bombs America dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945. President Obama, taking a break from killing civilians in Afghanistan and