Religion is False.

Nov 24 JDN 2460639

In my previous post I wrote about some of the ways that religion can make people do terrible things. However, to be clear, as evil as actions like wiping out cities, torturing nonbelievers, and killing gays appear on their face—as transparently as they violate even the Hitler Principle—they might in fact be justified were religion actually true. So that requires us to ask the question: Is religion true?

Recall that I said that religion consists in three propositions: Super-human beings, afterlife, and prayer.

Super-human beings

There is basically no evidence at all of super-human beings—no booming voices in the sky, no beings who come down from heaven in beams of light. To be sure, there are reports of such things, but none of them can be in any way substantiated. Moreover, they only seem to have happened back in a time when there was no such thing as science as we know it, to people who were totally uneducated, with no physical evidence whatsoever. As soon as we invented technologies to record such events, they apparently stopped occurring? As soon as it might have been possible to prove they weren’t made up, they stopped? Clearly, they were made up all along, and once we were able to prove this, people stopped trying to lie to us.

Actually it’s worse than that—even before we had such technology, merely the fact that people were educated was sufficient to make them believe none of it. Quoth Lucretius in De Rerum Natura in 50 BC (my own translation)}:

Humana ante oculos foede cum vita iaceret

in terris oppressa gravi sub religione,

quae caput a caeli regionibus ostendebat

horribili super aspectu mortalibus instans,

[…]

quare religio pedibus subiecta vicissim

opteritur, nos exaequat victoria caelo.

[…]

sed casta inceste nubendi tempore in ipso

hostia concideret mactatu maesta parentis,

exitus ut classi felix faustusque daretur.

tantum religio potuit suadere malorum.

Before, humanity would cast down their eyes to the ground,

with a foul life oppressed beneath the burden of Religion,

who would show her head along the regional skies,

pressing upon mortals with a horrible view.

[…]

Therefore religion is now pressed under our feet,

and this victory equalizes us with heaven.

[…]

But at the very time of her wedding, a sinless woman

sinfully slain, an offering in sacrifice to omens,

gone in order to give happy and auspicious travels to ships.

Only religion could induce such evil.

Yes, before Jesus there were already scientists writing about how religion is false and immoral. I suppose you could argue that religion has gotten better since then… but I don’t think it’s gotten any more true.

Nor did Jesus provide some kind of compelling evidence that won the Romans over; indeed, other than the works of his followers (such as the Bible itself) there are hardly any records showing he even existed; he probably did, but we know very little about him. Modern scholars can still read classical Latin; we have extensive records of history and literature from that period. One of the reasons the Dark Ages were originally called that was because the historical record suddenly became much more scant after the fall of Rome—not so much dark as in “bad” as dark as in “you can’t see”. Yet despite this extensive historical record, we have only a handful of references to someone named Yeshua, probably Jewish, who may have been crucified (which was a standard method of punishment in Rome). By this line of reasoning you can prove Thor exists by finding an epitaph of some Viking blacksmith whose name was Thad. If Jesus had been going around performing astounding miracles for all the world to see—rather than, you know, playing parlor tricks to fool his gullible cult—don’t you think someone credible would have written that down?

If there were a theistic God (at least one who is morally good), we would expect that the world would be without suffering, without hunger, without harm to innocents—it is not. We would expect that good things never happen to bad people and bad things never happen to good people—but clearly they often do. Free will might—might—excuse God for allowing the Holocaust, but what about earthquakes? What about viruses? What about cancer? What about famine? In fact, why do we need to eat at all? Without digestive tracts (with some sort of internal power source run on fusion or antimatter reactions, perhaps?) we would never be hungry, never be tired, never starve in famine or grow sick from obesity. We limited humans are forced to deal with our own ecological needs, but why did God make us this way in the first place?

If a few eyewitness accounts of someone apparently performing miracles are sufficient to define an entire belief system, then we must all worship Appollonius of Tyana, L. Ron Hubbard, and Jose deLuis deJesus, and perhaps even Criss Angel and Uri Geller, as well as of course Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, Krishna, Herakles, Augustus Caesar, Joseph Smith, and so on. The way you explain “miracles” in every case other than your own religion—illusion, hallucination, deceit, exaggeration—is the way that I explain the “miracles” in your religion as well. Why can people all around the world with totally different ideas of which super-human beings they’re working for nonetheless perform all the same miracles? Because it’s all fake.

Prayer

Which brings me to the subject of prayer. The basic idea is that ritualized actions are meant to somehow influence the behavior of the universe by means other than natural law or human action. Performing a certain series of behaviors in a specific sequence will “bring you luck” or “appease the gods” or “share in the Eucharist”.

The problem here is basically that once you try to explain how this could possibly work, you just end up postulating different natural laws. The super-human being theory was a way out of that; if Yahweh somehow is looking down upon us and will do what you ask if you go through a certain sequence (a password, I guess?), then you have a reason for why prayer would work, because you have a sensible category of actions that isn’t either nature or humans. But if that’s not what’s happening—if there’s no someone doing these things, then there has to be a something—and now you need to explain how that’s different from the laws of nature.

Actually, the clearest distinction I can find is that prayer is the sort of action that doesn’t actually work. If something actually works, we don’t call it prayer or think of it as a ritual. Brushing your teeth is a sequence of actions that will actually make you healthier, because the fluoride remineralizes your teeth and kills bacteria that live in your mouth. Inserting and turning the ignition key will start a car, because that is how cars are designed to work. When you remove certain pieces of paper from your wallet and hand them over to a specific person, that person will give you goods in return, because that’s how our monetary system works. When we perform a specific sequence of actions toward achieving a goal that actually makes rational sense, nobody calls it a ritual anymore. But once again we’re back to the fact that “supernatural” is just a weird way of saying “non-existent”.

And indeed prayer does not work, at all, ever, period. There have been empirical studies on the subject, and all of the at all credible ones have shown effects indistinguishable from chance (including a 2006 randomized controlled medical trial) In fact telling sick people they’re being prayed for may make them sicker, so please stop telling people you’re praying for them! Instead, pray with your wallet—donate to medical research. Put your money where your mouth is.

There’s some evidence that prayer has psychological benefits, and that having a more positive attitude can be good for your health in some circumstances; but this is not evidence that prayer actually affects the world. It’s just a placebo effect, and you can get the same effect from lots of other things, like meditation, relaxation exercises, or just taking a sugar pill. Indeed, the fact that prayer works just as well regardless of your religion really proves that prayer is doing nothing but making people feel better.

Occasionally an experiment will seem to show a positive effect of some prayer or superstition, but these are clearly statistical flukes. If you keep testing things at random, eventually by pure coincidence some of them are going to appear related, even though they actually aren’t. If you run dozens and dozens of studies trying to correlate things, of course some of them would show up correlated—indeed, the really shocking thing, the evidence of miracles, would be if they didn’t. At the standard 95% confidence level, about 1 in 20 completely unrelated things will be statistically correlated just by chance. Even at 99.9% confidence, 1 in 1000 will be.

This same effect applies even if you aren’t formally testing, but are simply noticing coincidences in your daily life. You are visiting Disneyland and happen to meet someone from your alma mater; you’re thinking about Grandma just as she happens to call. What a coincidence! If you add up all the different possible events that might feel like a coincidence if they occurred, and then determine the probability that at least one of them will occur at some point in your life—or at least ten, or even a hundred—you’d find that the probability is, far from being tiny, virtually 100%.

And then even truly rare coincidences—one in a million, one in a billion—will still happen somewhere in the world, for there are over 8 billion people in the world. A one in a million chance happens 300 times a day in America alone. Combine this with our news media that loves to focus upon rare events, and it’s a virtual certainty that you will have heard of someone who survived a plane crash, or won $100 million in the lottery; and they will no doubt have a story to tell about the prayer they made as the plane was falling (nevermind the equally-sincere prayers of many of the hundred other passengers who died) or the lucky numbers they got off a fortune cookie (nevermind the millions of fortune cookies with numbers that haven’t won the lottery). The human mind craves explanation, and in general this is a good thing; but sometimes there is no rational explanation, because the event was just random.

I actually find it deeply disturbing when people say “Thank God” after surviving some horrible event that killed many other people. I understand why you are glad to be alive; but please, have enough respect for the people who didn’t survive that you don’t casually imply that the creator of the universe thinks they deserved to die. Oh, you didn’t realize that’s what you’re doing? Well, it is. If God saved you, that means he didn’t save everyone else. And God is supposed to be ultimately powerful, so if he is real, he could have saved everyone, he just chose not to. You’re saying he chose to let those other people die.

It’s quite different if you say “Thank you” to the individual person who helped you—the donor of your new kidney, the firefighter who pulled you from the wreckage. Those are human beings with human limitations, and they are doing their best—even going above and beyond the moral standards we normally expect, an act we rightly call heroism. It’s even different to say “Thank goodness”. This need not be a euphemism for “Thank God”; you can actually thank goodness—express gratitude for the moral capacities that have built human civilization and hold it together. Daniel Dennett wrote a very powerful peace about thanking goodness when he was suffering a heart problem and was saved by the intervention of expert medical staff and advanced medical technology, which I highly recommend reading.

Religion as a source of morality

Nov 17 JDN 2460632

After that brief interlude of politics and current events, I now return to my previous topic: Religion.

I am an atheist (among other things). To avoid confusion, allow me to explicate further: I do not believe in any sort of divine being, supernatural entity, or mystical force. I do not believe in super-human beings, immortality, or prayer. I accept neither Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, Mormonism, Taoism, Shinto, Sikhism, Jain, Scientology, Wiccan, astrology, Greek religion, Norse religion, nor any other religion or faith-based belief system. I do not believe in Yahweh, Jesus, Allah; Vishnu, Brahma, Shiva; Zeus, Apollo, Athena, Ares; Tyr, Wodan, Thor, Freyja (It’s amusing to note that our days of the week are named primarily after these Norse gods: After Sun-day and Moon-day, we have Tyr’s-day, Wodan’s-day, Thor’s-day, and Freyja’s-day. How Saturn’s-day (a Roman god) got in there, I’m not sure. A historian might be able to explain this.); Amen-Ra, Anubis, Hathor, Bastet; Amaterasu, Sarutahiko, Inari; nor any other god, deity, or divinity. While I have read several of the texts believed holy by various religions, including the Bible, the Qur’an, and the Bhagavad-Gita, and would be open to reading more, I consider them works of literature written by human hands with human flaws.

I believe in science, in rationality, in the observable and the verifiable. I accept the evidence from neuroscience which shows that human consciousness and identity does not survive death; as such I have neither hope nor fear for an afterlife, only hope for life and joy and fear of death and pain. While I recognize that God’s nonexistence cannot be proven with logical certainty, I see so little evidence for divine beings that I believe quite strongly that these things do not exist, about as strongly as I believe that the Earth is round, that humans and chimpanzees share a common ancestor, and that unicorns and fairies are fictional. In some rarified philosophical sense I am “agnostic” about all these things, but in the same sense I am “agnostic” about nearly everything. In practical terms I believe many things to be true, and am quite confident in many of these beliefs. My answer to the question “Do you believe there could be a God?” is the same as that of Richard Dawkins: “Yes, but there could be a Leprechaun!” (The exact statement, “There may be a Leprechaun”, and its context can be found in around time-stamp 7:15.} The standard “cannot be disproven with logical certainty” is absurdly weak, and applies just as well to Amaterasu and Thor as it does to Jesus.

There is something strange about the word “atheist”, as Sam Harris has remarked; we generally do not define people by what they don’t believe. We feel little need to call people “non-racists” or “non-astrologers”, nor do we typically specify people as “non-Keynesians” or “non-utilitarians”. While I agree with this observation, the general expectation in our society is that people will hold to a particular religion, usually Christianity, Judaism, or Islam; and when asked, “What is your religion?” I need an answer; for these purposes, I use the word “atheist”. Sometimes I will also use “rationalist” or “secular humanist”, but these terms are not as familiar to most people; other times I will say “I have none”, but this too leads to confusion. Like it or not, “atheist” is the word most people are familiar with. (And there definitely are people who identify as “anti-racists”.)

Because I am an atheist, I’m sure my arguments for why religion cannot be the source of morality will be viewed with suspicion. Of course an atheist wouldn’t think that morality can come from religion; he doesn’t believe in religion. And this is part of it, certainly: I do not think we should base our morality upon ideas that are not true, and I do not think that religion is true. But that’s not the only reason; I have plenty more.

Good and bad believers and nonbelievers

Your next thought might be that I will deluge you with examples of religious people doing terrible things, often in the name of their religions. There certainly are plenty of examples, especially in Christianity and Islam, but also for Judaism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and just about everything else. Even Jain, renowned for its nonviolence, has its examples of people who have refused to treat their sick children on the grounds that it would harm the parasites or bacteria. Jehovah’s Witnesses and Christian Scientists have refused blood transfusions that could have saved their lives or the lives of their children. Such things are hardly as evil as the Crusades or suicide bombing, but they are still deeply immoral, and the fact that they could come from religions of nonviolence should give us pause.

But of course there have been evil things done by atheists; apologists are fond of mentioning Josef Stalin and Pol Pot, who were most definitely atheists, but because his evil is more widely acknowledged—the Hitler Principle—they tend to also throw in Adolf Hitler, whose religious affiliation was much more complex. Hitler officially affiliated himself with the Catholic Church, publicly insisted he was Catholic, and spoke of God and Christianity often; and yet people who knew him privately often acknowledged that he was not really a devout Christian. Even if Hitler was in fact a closet atheist, most of the Nazis considered themselves Christian (mostly either Catholic or Lutheran), and proudly carried crucifixes and wore belts saying Gott mit uns, “God with us”. But of course this is not an argument against Christianity; if anything it is an argument against Nazism, or against abusing Christianity in the support of fascism. Almost everyone agrees with this; but why is it that so few will admit that for the same reasons, Stalin’s evil is no argument against atheism? Millions of atheists around the world agree that Stalin was an evil man. Moreover, Stalin believed the Earth was round; does that make round-Earthers evil? Hitler loved dogs; does that make dog people evil? “Someone bad believed X” is a very poor reason to believe that X is false; in fact, if just as many good people also believed X, the fact that so many people believe X is prima facie reason to think that X is true. Almost everyone, good and bad, believes the Earth is round; that’s reason to think the Earth is round!

There is an important point to be made that religion could justify acts commonly regarded as evil. If a powerful, wise, and benevolent God really did give us commandments, it would be our duty to obey those commandments, even if we didn’t understand their purpose. If people in other cultures really were servants of evil incarnate, it would make perfect sense to kill them. If people with other beliefs really would suffer eternal pain for what they believe, it would make perfect sense to capture and torture them until they convert. If homosexuality really were a crime as bad as murder, it would make perfect sense to outlaw it. Moreover, beliefs like this are remarkably mainstream in religion; even most moderate religious people, if pressed, will agree that they think people who don’t believe the right religion will suffer eternal pain. In fact, the real question is how religious people can justify not torturing infidels. If I honestly believed I could save you from eternal pain by causing some temporary pain, I would feel strongly obligated to do so. Do religious people really believe what they say? If so, why do they act the way they do? If not, why do they keep saying it?

Sometimes religious moderates make excuses about “autonomy”, but this cannot work. Consider the following analogy. Suppose I were about to drink a vial of deadly poison, which would cause me a long, agonizing death. I was doing this not because I was suicidal, but because I honestly believed that the vial contained a medicine that would make me healthier and happier. You, on the other hand, know better; the vial is poison, and if I drink it I will surely suffer and die. Given that you are in a position to stop me, what would you do? Would you stay your hand out of respect for my autonomy? If you have any sense at all, you would not. Whatever my life projects may be, they will fail if I die of this poison; I am not being rational. My autonomy is better served by your coercion, and once I realize that the vial contains poison, we will both understand that.

How much more true this must be, if infidels will suffer eternal suffering. If you honestly believe that Hell awaits all nonbelievers, then you must think that nonbelief is the most terrible of all poisons. You should be convinced that I am completely irrational, acting against all my own interests. You should be willing to do almost anything to change my mind—up to and including torturing and killing me, since you profess to believe that death is not the end. If you truly believed in Hell the same way I believe in cyanide, you would feel obligated to convert all nonbelievers by literally any means necessary. In this sense the Crusades and suicide bombing are not bizarre aberrations; they are the direct rational consequence of truly believing what holy texts actually say.

It is an incredibly disturbing yet undeniably true fact that the books which are most widely considered the source and font of morality (the Bible and Qur’an) are in fact full of rape, slavery, murder, and genocide—and these acts are not merely depicted but condoned. I believe the most chilling example, Deuteronomy 20:16, will suffice: “However, in the cities of the nations the Lord your God is giving you as an inheritance, do not leave alive anything that breathes.” That goes beyond genocide—it is something even worse than that, where not only the men, women and children are slaughtered, but so are the cats, dogs, cows, and goats. It is the absolute and total destruction of all sentient life—which is almost the exact opposite of morality.

There are people who still believe exactly what the holy books say, and it makes them do or say terrible things. In the United States in 2014, a Christian pastor sincerely argued that gay men should be put to death. Make no mistake: He didn’t come up with that out of thin air. He read it in the book. He even properly cited his source (Leviticus 20:13). This man is most likely not a psychopath—he just actually believes what most self-identified Christians claim to. Many news reports put “Christian” in scare quotes when describing this man, but they have it exactly backwards; read the Bible, and you will see that he believes in it more truly and thoroughly than 99% of so-called “Christians” ever have. He is the most honest and devout Bible-believing Christian I have ever heard of. If you do not see that, you desperately, desperately need to read the Bible, cover to cover, for it is not the book you think it is. And no, you can’t just say the Old Testament doesn’t count—if so, why include it at all?—according to Jesus himself in the Bible itself, the Old Testament laws are not supposed to be changed in the slightest until the end of the world (Matthew 5:18). It honestly couldn’t get any more unambiguous: The Bible says to kill gay men, and this is meant to be a universal law for all time. If that disturbs you—and of course it does—your problem isn’t with me; it’s with the Bible.

If you are not willing to commit such horrific acts at the behest of ancient books, then you must not really believe that eternal suffering awaits me—at least not with any confidence. Maybe you suppose it to be so, or maybe for some reason you want people to think you believe it, or maybe you are simply so accustomed to repeating it that you never bothered to consider whether you actually believe it. I think most religious people are in precisely this condition—they don’t actually believe that infidels will suffer eternal torment. Why they keep saying it, I’m not entirely sure; but this proposition simply doesn’t fit the behavior of most religious people. Knowing that most people are basically rational, I am forced to conclude that there is a kind of deception (perhaps self-deception) involved in anyone who contends that Hell awaits all nonbelievers but doesn’t try to torture me until I repent.

But this means that if I want to argue against mainstream religion, I can’t simply point out that some religious beliefs can lead to obviously immoral actions, because the beliefs that lead to immoral actions are almost always beliefs that aren’t sincerely held by mainstream religious people. People may say things that would have those logical consequences, but for the betterment of us all they cordon off these statements from their actual behavior. Even people who say “Abortion is murder” don’t usually treat abortion doctors the way they would treat serial killers—and the few who do we rightly call “fanatics”. Even people who say “gay people go to Hell” don’t actually advocate the murder of homosexuals.

Trump Won. Now what?

Nov 10 JDN 2460625

How did Trump win?

After the election results were announced, one of the first things I saw on social media, aside from the shock and panic among most of my friends and acquaintances, was various people trying to explain what happened this election by some flaw in Kamala Harris or her campaign.

They said it was the economy—even though the economy was actually very good, with the lowest unemployment we’ve had in decades and inflation coming back to normal. Real wages have been rising quickly, especially at the bottom! Most economists agree that inflation will be worse under Trump than it would have been under Harris.

They said it was too much identity politics, or else that Black and Latino men felt their interests were being ignored—somehow it was both of those things.

They said it was her support of Israel in its war crimes in Gaza—even though Trump supports them even more.

They said she was too radical on trans issues—even though most Americans favor anti-discrimination laws protecting trans people.

They said Harris didn’t campaign well—even though her campaign was obviously better organized than Trump’s (or Hillary Clinton’s).

They said it was too much talk about abortion, alienating pro-lifers—even though the majority of Americans want abortion to be legal in all or most cases.

They said that Biden stepped down too late, and she didn’t have enough time—even though he stepped down as soon as he showed signs of cognitive decline, and her poll numbers were actually better early on in the campaign.

They said that Harris was wrong to court endorsements by Republicans—even though endorsements form the other side are exactly the sort of thing that usually convinces undecided voters.

None of these explanations actually hold much water.

BUT EVEN IF THEY DID, IT WOULDN’T MATTER.

I could stipulate that Harris and her campaign had all of these failures and more. I could agree that she’s the worst candidate the Democrats have fielded in decades. (She wasn’t.)

THE ALTERNATIVE WAS DONALD TRUMP.

Trump is so terrible that he utterly eclipses any failings that could reasonably be attributed to Harris. He is racist, fascist, authoritarian, bigoted, incompetent, narcissistic, egomaniacal, corrupt, a liar, a cheat, an insurrectionist, a sexual predator, and a convicted criminal. He shows just as much cognitive decline as Biden did, but no one on his side asked him to step down because of it. His proposed tariffs would cause massive economic harm for virtually no benefit, and his planned mass deportations are a human rights violation (and also likely an economic disaster). He will most likely implement some variant of Project 2025, which is absolutely full of terrible, dangerous policies. Historians agree he was one of the worst Presidents we’ve ever had.

Indeed, Trump is so terrible that there really can’t be any good reasons to re-elect him. We are left only with bad reasons.

I know of two, and both of them are horrifying.


The first is that Kamala Harris is a woman of color, and a lot of Americans just weren’t willing to put a woman of color in charge. Indeed, sexism seems to be a stronger effect here than racism, because Barack Obama made it but Hillary Clinton didn’t.

The second is that Trump and other Republicans successfully created a whole propaganda system that allows them to indoctrinate millions of people with disinformation. Part of their strategy involves systematically discrediting all mainstream sources, from journalists to scientists, so that they can replace the truth with whatever lies they want.

It was this disinformation that convinced millions of Americans that the economy was in shambles when it was doing remarkably well, convinced them that crime is rising when it is actually falling, convinced them that illegal immigrants were eating people’s pets. Once Republicans had successfully made people doubt all mainstream sources, they could simply substitute whatever beliefs were most convenient for their goals.

Democrats and Republicans are no longer operating with the same set of facts. I’m not claiming that Democrats are completely without bias, but there is a very clear difference: When scientists and journalists report that a widely-held belief by Democrats is false, most Democrats change their beliefs. When the same happens to Republicans, they just become further convinced that scientists and journalists are liars.

What happens now?

In the worst-case scenario, Trump will successfully surround himself with enough sycophants to undermine the checks and balances in our government and actually become an authoritarian dictator. I still believe that this is unlikely, but I can’t rule it out. I am certain that he would want to do this if he thought he could pull it off. (His own chief of staff has said so!)

Even if that worst-case doesn’t come to pass, things will still be very bad for millions of people. Immigrants will be forcibly removed from their homes. Trans people will face even more discrimination. Abortion may be banned nationwide. We may withdraw our support from Ukraine, and that may allow Russia to win the war. Environmental regulations will be repealed. Much or all of our recent progress at fighting climate change could be reversed. Voter suppression efforts will intensify. Yet more far-right judges will be appointed, and they will make far-right rulings. And tax cuts on the rich will make our already staggering, unsustainable inequality even worse.

Indeed, it’s not clear that this will be good even for the people who voted for Trump. (Of course it will be good for Trump himself and his closest lackeys.) The people who voted based on a conviction that the economy was bad won’t see the economy improve. The people who felt ignored by the Democrats will continue to be even more ignored by the Republicans. The people who were tired of identity politics aren’t going to make us care any less about racism and sexism by electing a racist misogynist. The working-class people who were voting against “liberal elites” will see their taxes raised and their groceries more expensive and their wages reduced.

I guess if people really hate immigrants and want them gone, they may get their wish when millions of immigrants are taken from their homes. And the rich will be largely insulated from the harms, while getting those tax cuts they love so much. So that’s some kind of benefit at least.

But mostly, this was an awful outcome, and the next four years will be progressively more and more awful, until hopefully—hopefully—Trump leaves office and we get another chance at something better. That is, if he hasn’t taken over and become a dictator by then.

What can we do to make things less bad?

I’m seeing a lot of people talking about grassroots organizing and mutual aid. I think these are good things, but honestly I fear they just aren’t going to be enough. The United States government is the most powerful institution in the world, and we have just handed control of it over to a madman.

Maybe we will need to organize mass protests. Maybe we will need to take some kind of radical direct action. I don’t know what to do. This all just feels so overwhelming.

I don’t want to give in to despair. I want to believe that we can still make things better. But right now, things feel awfully bleak.

What is Religion?

Nov 3 JDN 2460618

In this and following posts I will be extensively criticizing religion and religious accounts of morality. Religious authorities have asserted a monopoly for themselves on moral knowledge; as a result most people seem to agree with statements like Dostoyevsky’s “If God does not exist, then everything is permitted.” The majority of people around the world—including the United States, but not including most other First World countries—believe that it is necessary to believe in God in order to be a moral person. Yet little could be further from the truth.

First, I must deal with the fact that in American culture, it is widely considered taboo to criticize religion. A level of criticism which would be unremarkable in other fields of discourse is viewed as “shrill”, “arrogant”, “strident”, “harsh”, and “offensive”.

For instance, I believe the following:

The Republican Party is overall harmful.

Most of Ayn Rand’s Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal is clearly false.

Did you find that offensive? I presume not! I’m sure many people would disagree with me on these things, but hardly anyone would seriously argue that I am being aggressive or intentionally provocative.

Indeed, if I chose less controversial examples, people would find my words positively charitable:

The Nazi Party is overall harmful.

Most of Mao Tse Tung’s The Little Red Book is clearly false.

Now, compare some other beliefs I have, also about ideologies and books:

Islam is overall harmful.

Most of the Bible is clearly false.

Suddenly, I’m being “strident”; I’m being an “angry atheist”, “intolerant” of religious believers—yet I’m using the same words! I must conclude that the objection of atheist “intolerance” comes not because my criticisms are genuinely harsh, but simply because they are criticisms of religion. We have been taught that criticizing religion is evil, regardless of whether the criticisms are valid. Once beliefs are wrapped in the shield of “religion”, they become invulnerable.

If I’d said that Muslim people are inherently evil, or that people who believe in the Bible are mentally defective, I can see why people would be offended. But I’m not saying that. On the contrary, I think the vast majority of religious people are good, reasonable, well-intentioned people who are honestly mistaken. There are some extremely intelligent theists in the world, and I do not dismiss their intelligence; I merely contend that they are mistaken about this issue. I don’t think religious people are evil or stupid or crazy; I just think they are wrong. I respect religious people as intelligent beings; that’s why I am trying to use reason to persuade them. I wouldn’t try to reason with a rock or even a tiger.

I will in future posts show that religion is false and morally harmful. But of course in order to do that, I must first explain what I mean by religion; while we use the word every day, we are far from consistent about what we mean.

There’s one meaning of “religion” that often is put forth by its defenders, on which “religion” seems to mean only “moral values”, or else “a sense of mystery and awe before the universe”. Einstein often spoke this way, which is why people who quote him out of context often get the impression that he is defending Judaism or Christianity:

I cannot conceive of a genuine scientist without that profound faith. The situation may be expressed by an image: science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.

But in the original context, a very different picture emerges:

Even though the realms of religion and science in themselves are clearly marked off from each other, nevertheless there exist between the two strong reciprocal relationships and dependencies. Though religion may be that which determines the goal, it has, nevertheless, learned from science, in the broadest sense, what means will contribute to the attainment of the goals it has set up. But science can only be created by those who are thoroughly imbued with the aspiration toward truth and understanding. This source of feeling, however, springs from the sphere of religion. To this there also belongs the faith in the possibility that the regulations valid for the world of existence are rational, that is, comprehensible to reason. I cannot conceive of a genuine scientist without that profound faith. The situation may be expressed by an image: science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind.

Here, “religion” comes to mean little more than “moral values” or “aspiration toward truth”. In my own lexicon Einstein’s words would become “Fact without value is lame; value without fact is blind.” (I would add: both are the domain of science.)

Einstein did not believe in a personal deity of any kind. He was moved to awe by the mystery and grandeur of the universe, and motivated by moral duties to do good and seek truth. If that’s what you mean by “religion”, then of course I am entirely in favor of it. But that is not what most people mean by “religion”.

A much better meaning of the word “religion” is something like “cultural community of believers”; this is what we mean when we say that Catholicism is a religion or that Shi’a Islam is a religion. This is essentially the definition I will be using. But there is a problem with this meaning, because it doesn’t specify what constitutes a believer.

May any shared belief suffice? Then the Democratic Party is a “religion”, because it is a community of people with shared beliefs. Indeed, the scientific community is a “religion”. This sort of definition is so broad that it loses all usefulness.

So in order for “religion” to be a really meaningful concept, we must specify just what sort of beliefs qualify as religious rather than secular. Here I offer my definition; I have tried to be as charitable to religion as possible while remaining accurate in what I am criticizing.

Religion is a system of beliefs and practices that is based upon one or more of the following concepts:

  • Super-human beings: sentient beings that are much more powerful and long-lived than humans are.
  • Afterlife: a continued existence for human conscious experience that persists after death.
  • Prayer: a system of ritual behaviors that are expected to influence the outcome of phenomena through the mediation of something other than human action or laws of nature.

Note that I have specifically excluded from the definition claims that the super-human beings are “supernatural” or “magical”. Though many people, even religious people, would include these concepts, I do not, because I don’t think that the words supernatural and magical carry any well-defined meaning. Is “supernatural” what doesn’t follow the laws of nature? Well, do we mean the laws as we know them, or the laws as they are? It makes a big difference: The laws of nature as we know them have changed as science advances. 100 years ago, atoms were beyond our understanding; 200 years ago, electricity was beyond our understanding; 500 years ago, ballistics was beyond our understanding as well. The laws of nature as they are, on the other hand, are by definition the laws that everything in the universe must follow—hence, “supernatural” would be a funny way of saying “non-existent”.

I think ultimately “supernatural” and “magical” are just weird ways of saying “what I don’t understand”; but if that’s all they are, they clearly aren’t helpful. Today’s magic is tomorrow’s science. If Clarke’s Third Law is right that any sufficiently-advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic, then what’s the point of being magic? It’s just technology we don’t understand! In fact I prefer the reformulation of Clarke’s Law by Mark Stanley: Any technology, no matter how primitive, is magic to those who don’t understand it. To an ape, a spear is magical; to a hunter-gatherer, a rifle is magical; and to us today, creating planets from dust and living a million years are magical. But that could very well change someday.

Similarly, I have excluded the hyperboles “omnipotent” and “omniscient”, because they are widely considered by philosophers to be outright incoherent, and in no cases are they actually believed. If you believed that God knows everything, then you would have to believe that God knows how to prove the statement “This statement is unprovable” (Gödel’s incompleteness theorems), and that God knows everything he doesn’t know. If you believed that God could do anything, you would have to believe that God can put four sides on a triangle, that God can heal the sick while leaving them sick, and that God can make a rock so big he can’t lift it. Even if you restrict God’s powers to what is logically coherent, you are still left trying to explain why he didn’t create a world of perfect happiness and peace to begin with, or how he can know the future if there is any randomness in the world at all. Furthermore, my definition is meant to include beings like Zeus and Thor, which were sincerely believed to be divine by millions of people for hundreds of years. Zeus is clearly neither omnipotent nor omniscient, but he is a lot more powerful and long-lived than we are; he’s not very benevolent, but nonetheless people called him God. (In fact, the Latin word for God, deus and the proper name Zeus are linguistically cognate. Zeus was thought to define or epitomize what it means to be God.) My definition is also meant to include non-divine super-humans like spirits and leprechauns, which similarly have been believed by many people for many centuries. The definition I have used is about as broad as I could make it without including things that obviously and uncontroversially exist, like “sentient beings other than humans” (animals?) or “forces beyond human power and comprehension” (gravity?) or “energy that animates life and permeates all things” (electricity?).

I have also excluded from my definition of “religion” anything that is obviously false or bad, like “believing things with no evidence”, “denying scientific facts”, “assenting to logical contradictions”, “hating those who disagree with them”, or “blaming natural disasters on people’s moral failings”. In fact, these are characteristic features of nearly all religions, and most religious people do them often; recall that 40% of Americans think that human beings were created by God less than 10,000 years ago, and note also that while the number has fallen over the decades, still 40% would not elect an atheist President, despite the fact that 93% of the National Academy of Science is atheist or agnostic. In the US, 32% of people believe in ghosts and 21% believe in witches. Views like “When people die they become ghosts”, “evolution is a lie” and “Earthquakes are caused by sexual immorality” are really quite mainstream in modern society. But criticism of religion is always countered by claims that we “New Atheists” (we are certainly not new, for Seneca and Epicurus would have qualified) lack philosophical sophistication, or focus too much on the obviously bad or ridiculous ideas.

Furthermore, note that I have formulated the definition of religion as a disjunction, not a conjunction; you must have at least one of these features, but need not have all of them. This is so that I can include in my criticism beliefs like Buddhism, which often does not involve prayer or super-human beings, but except in its most rarefied forms (which really aren’t recognizably religious!) invariably involves concepts of afterlife, and also New Age beliefs, which often do not involve afterlife or super-human beings but fit my definition of prayer—wearing a rabbit’s foot is a prayer, as is using a Ouiji board. It is incumbent upon me to show that all three are false, not merely that one of them is false. Of course, if you believe all three, then even if I only succeed in discrediting any of them, that is enough to show you are mistaken.

Finally, note that what I have just defined is a philosophy that, at least in principle, could be true. We can imagine a world in which there are super-human beings who control our fates; we can imagine a world in which consciousness persists after death; we can imagine a world where entreating to such super-human beings is a good way to get things done. On this definition, religion isn’t incoherent, it’s just incorrect. My point is not that these things are impossible—it is that they are not true.

And that is precisely what I intend to show in upcoming posts.