Chris Mooney is still at it, telling ‘scientists’ what they must do. They must learn to ‘communicate’ better. They must also learn to reassure trembling theists better. They keep not doing that, and Chris Mooney is getting pretty tired of the way they don’t listen to him.

…at its core, the objection to evolution isn’t about science at all, but about perceived threats to faith and moral values. The only way to defuse the conflict is to assuage these fundamental fears. Yet this drags many scientists out of their comfort zone: They’re not priests or theologians and don’t know how to sound like them. Many refuse to try; others go to the opposite extreme of advocating vociferous and confrontational atheism.

Isn’t that irritating? Mooney keeps telling them, yet they go right on being atheist and saying why they are atheist. It’s so perverse and obstinate and naughty. After all Mooney has infallible knowledge of what is the right thing to do and what actions will cause what results, so it’s just unconscionable that ‘scientists’ won’t obey him.

Ironically, to increase support for the teaching of evolution, scientists must join forces with — and show more understanding of — religion. Scientists who are believers also need to be more vocal about how they reconcile science and faith.

They must, you see – not they could, or they should, or it might help if they; no, they must. According to Chris Mooney. That’s how we know he has infallible knowledge of what will cause what to happen – it’s because he’s so bossy.

In other words, what’s needed is less “pure science” on its own — although of course scientists must continue to speak in scientifically accurate terms — and more engagement with the concerns of nonscientific audiences. In response to that argument, many researchers will say: “Why target us? We’re the good guys. And if we become more media savvy, we’ll risk our credibility.” There is only one answer to this objection: “Look all around you — at Climategate, at the unending evolution wars — and ask, are your efforts working?” The answer, surely, is no.

The answer is ‘no’ if and only if your definition of ‘working’ is one peculiar to Chris Mooney. What he means is not ‘are your efforts working?’ but ‘are particular things going the way I would like them to go?’ and it simply is not written into the structure of the universe that scientists as such are obliged to do whatever will make things go the way Chris Mooney would like them to; not even if Mooney’s wishes are on the whole sensible wishes. Mooney does have sensible wishes, but they’re not the only possible wishes, and his version of ‘working’ is not the only possible version of ‘working.’ Scientists spending their time being scientists rather than being ‘media savvy’ suck ups and soothers and appeasers makes a lot of things ‘work’ and it may just not be on the cards for them to add political maneuvering to the menu. It’s also just not as obvious as Mooney thinks it is that if scientists did do that, the things Mooney wants to work would work. He has great and unexplained certainty that it is obvious, but pretty much no one else does.

On other topics, including evolution, scientists must recognize that more than scientific matters are at stake, and either address the moral and ethical issues themselves, or pair with those who can (in the case of evolution, religious leaders and scientists such as Giberson and National Institutes of Health chief Francis Collins).

Bossy. Bossy bossy bossy. He really should do something about that – being an expert in communication and all. It’s way off-putting to have a young fella like him telling you what you must do, especially when what you must do is something as rebarbative as either trying to talk ‘moral and ethical’ sludge to theists or pair with Karl Giberson or Francis Collins for the purpose.

Maybe what ought to happen is that scientists ought to start writing articles for the Washington Post telling communication experts what they must do to make things work. That would be entertaining.

The BBC is disgusting at times. It had to report on this al-Shabab guy trying to kill Kurt Westergaard so therefore it had to make sure you didn’t get the wrong idea and think it, the BBC, didn’t think Kurt Westergaard deserved it, at least a little bit. That would never do. So it includes a sidebar of ‘analysis’ which ends with this even-handed bit of slime:

Moderate Muslims in Denmark have condemned the attack on Kurt Westergaard, but they still believe his drawing was sacrilegious.

Muslim nations are attempting to outlaw what they call the defamation of their religion.

Mr Westergaard came out of hiding last Spring, saying he wanted to defend freedom of expression.

Some independent religious scholars argue the cartoonists were wrong to offend Muslims and say the drawings made dialogue impossible.

Notice the failure to point out that some ‘independent religious scholars’ (whatever that is supposed to mean) and some other kinds of people argue that on the contrary the cartoonists were not wrong to draw cartoons about Mohammed; notice the ‘wrong to offend Muslims’ as if what the cartoonists did had been to ‘offend Muslims’ as opposed to drawing cartoons; notice that any satirical or political or otherwise substantive cartoon can always ‘offend’ someone; notice giving the stupid evasive anonymous smeary ‘the cartoonists were wrong to offend Muslims’ claim the last word; notice doing that in an article about the attempted ax-murder of a 75-year-old cartoonist in his own house. Notice, and be disgusted.

Oooh look, I get to be on a list. Usually when there’s a list, I don’t get to be on it, which is probably perfectly sensible because there are better people to be on it, except when one looks closely at the list one notices that everyone on it is of just one gender, and it happens to be not the one that I am of which, and at that point one begins to wonder, is there a secret invisible subliminal hidden sub rosa unconscious criterion for being on the list that the maker of the list would probably not admit to but that nevertheless somehow just made it be that only people of one gender were good enough to be on the list.

Or to put it more bluntly, which I feel like doing because this kind of thing is getting increasingly on my nerves, is it really that difficult to draw up lists that are not 100% totally all male? Is it really? Is it really that hard for people to remember that there are female atheists too and some of them are well worth listening to or reading?

Because the trouble is (and this is hardly a news flash), the more people go on remembering just the men all the time when lists of atheists are drawn up, the more the women will be ignored and forgotten and the lists will go on being all male and the women will be even more ignored and forgotten and the process just goes on like that forever. I mean, fucking hell! Does this have to be spelled out at this late date? This is well known and has been well known for my entire adult life, and I’m 153. People choose people like them, so everybody else gets overlooked, so people already in a position to draw up lists and invite people to conferences choose people like them and all the other kinds of people just go on being locked out forever. You have to make the effort to seek out people not like you in order to correct for your own bias in favor of people like you so that other kinds of people will get a god damn chance. Is that so hard to understand?!

I beg your pardon. I mustn’t be so vehement. (Or wait, maybe I must – maybe there will be a contest for ‘Most Vehement Atheist’ some day and maybe if I am really really vehement I will get on the list even if the list does not specify ‘Most Vehement Female Atheist’ and then we would know Progress was Being Made.) It just did seem pathetic that a guy drew up a list of most vocal atheists of 2009 and every single one of them was a guy and he apparently hadn’t even noticed until commenters pointed it out. Come on.

Never mind, commenters did point it out, and they were sweet and astute enough to mention me among other people when they did it. But still it seems pathetic that it has to be pointed out. Yo, dude, could you really not think of even one woman worth including? Seriously?

Mark Vernon is playing the same old hurdy-gurdy.

The Oxford church historian tells of a ‘wise old Dominican friar’ who informed him that God is not the answer. Rather, God is the question…First you’ve got to ask what you mean by the word ‘God’. And there is a quick answer: we don’t know what we mean by the word ‘God’. God is a mystery. ‘The word “God” is a label for something we do not know’…

A mystery is different from a problem; a problem can be solved, science does that, science does it well, but a mystery is different. And God is one of those. Aquinas said God can’t even be said to exist. Talk about mysterious!

That’s how much of a mystery God is. Inherent in any decent conception of divinity is the notion that the divine is not a thing in the world, like everything else, because God is the reason there are things at all. God as the cause of existence, not something that exists.

It’s a mystery, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about it; oh nooooooo. We can talk about it a lot! Why would we want to?

Again, the “why” is simply answered: because existence is so extraordinary. You see, if you believe the question of God is worth asking then it’s because you’ve sensed that life might have meaning, that the cosmos is for something, that there might be an explanation beyond chance as to why there is something rather than nothing. To ask of God is to raise these questions.

No doubt, but to raise these questions is not necessarily to talk about (or ‘ask of’) God. It is entirely possible to talk and speculate about life, and meaning, and the cosmos, and purpose, and why there is something rather than nothing, without talking about ‘God.’ You may not want to; you may think those vague suggestions are too generalized and shapeless and in an odd way parochial to be worth talking about; you may suspect that those aren’t real ‘questions’ but rather pretend questions shaped by the need to find reasons for thinking ‘God’ is real; but all the same you can. It’s the weird imperialism of goddy types that makes them think all questions of that kind are inextricable from God-talk. Being hammers, they think everything is a nail. But it isn’t.

So, second, how can God be talked of? It’s called the negative way, or the apophatic – saying what God is not. Whatever God might be, God is not visible: God’s invisible. Whatever God might be, God cannot be defined: God’s ineffable. Nothing positive is said. But nonetheless something is said of God. Similarly, the often forgotten motivation for the formulation of doctrine is the aim of not dissolving the mystery of God. When Christians say God is three in one, they assert what they take as a meaningful contradiction. And that’s the point. If you accept it, you accept a mystery.

God’s ineffable, but we get to go on and on and on effing anyway, and people say God is one and God is three and you just have to lump it and that’s because they don’t want to dissolve the mystery of God so the thing to do is to talk complete bullshit because by gum that preserves the mystery of God, and it lets you go on talking, too. In other words anything and everything, anything goes, it doesn’t matter, it’s a mystery and ineffable so nobody can say ‘Eh that’s nonsense’ and we can just go on blathering forever without ever having to check our data. As Mark Vernon does for another three paragraphs.

There’s something terribly childish about being satisfied with that kind of thing. Why bother? Yes, sure, you can do that, and go ahead, but why go proudly public with it in the Guardian’s blog? Why say it aloud as if we were supposed to be impressed? I’m impressed by people who really find out things, not by people who just spin words about ineffable trinities.

Oh look, I’m back. That is to say, the database is fixed, thanks to its owner, who fixed it, but prefers to remain anonymous, which makes thanking rather abstract, but you get the idea.

Apologies for the dry spell. Never mind. What with folding up the turkey to re-use next year and making wrapping paper hash, you’ve been too busy to read B&W anyway.

But those days are over – it’s shoulders to the wheel now, and no slacking. New Year’s Eve nothing – that kind of thing is for shallow worldly frivolous flower-sniffers, and I don’t hold with it. I expect a ten-page report on my desk by the end of the day.

A bit more on indoctrination. What is wrong with indoctrination?

Guardian readers were upset, David Shariatmadari says, by ‘the idea that a religious group should set about “indoctrinating” children who were intellectually defenceless.’ But just how damaging is this, he asks.

There are a few arguments I can think of, but I’m not completely convinced by them (as always, I’m open to persuasion). The main one is that children do not yet have the capacity to evaluate the worth of religious ideas.

No not quite – that puts it too mildly. Children do not yet have the capacity to evaluate the worth of any ideas, and that’s why adults should be very economical about imposing ideas on them. Children believe what they are told, especially when parents or authority figures are the ones doing the telling. That’s just a brute fact, as brute as the fact that children are shorter and lighter than adults. Adults should be economical in their use of superior size and strength on children, and they should be economical in their use of superior cognitive abilities on children. Adults shouldn’t exploit either advantage unless there’s a very good reason which is at least compatible with the child’s well-being.

Religious parents of course think religious ideas are crucial for the child’s well-being, so that’s a complicated issue. But churches and other religious institutions – they have other motivations for imposing their pet ideas on children, motivations which include their own continued employment and status. They are interested parties, and that means they should be very cautious indeed about ‘indoctrinating’ children who are intellectually defenseless. It’s only fair.

Still pretty clear and bright today, so I did the next item on the ‘don’t waste the ideal weather’ list and walked the golf course at Pebble Beach. It must be a closely-guarded secret that one can do this, because walkers are there in the single digits rather than the thousands. (But then there weren’t all that many people at Point Lobos, either. Carmel is always packed to the rafters while Point Lobos is blissfully underpopulated. Funny.) I encountered a guy on my dawn walk this morning, who stopped to greet the dog who was with me; the guy asked if where we were was the Pebble Beach course and I said no, it’s at the far end of 17 Mile Drive. We chatted dog for a bit and then parted, and as an afterthought I called after him, ‘You should walk the Pebble Beach course if you have time, it’s spectacular.’ He was all astonishment. ‘They let you do that?’ he said. They do. They don’t put out big signs saying YOU CAN WALK HERE but they definitely let you. ‘If I had my dog could I take him there?’ he asked. Yes. It’s funny, you’d think it would be all exclusive and get offy, but it isn’t. It costs the earth to play the course, but nothing to walk it. I’d much rather walk it!

So I did, and spectacular it was. It’s laid out on bluffs that overlook the ocean and Carmel Bay and the hills behind it. It’s an excellent walk on a very clear day in December.

David Shariatmadari is asking what is indoctrination and is it such a bad thing?

Of course, for many, the idea that anyone should spend their whole lives believing something wrong is bad. Those who are convinced of the truth of Christianity, whether they suffer or not, have been convinced of a lie, so the argument goes. But why single out religion? Lots of people believe lots of things that are probably wrong: they cleave to political and social hypotheses whose benefits are hotly contested, and sometimes impossible to test. Most of our working models of the world are based on a very fallible combination of imagination and experience, not scientific truth.

It’s not so much the spending one’s whole life believing something wrong, that I think is bad – it’s the being told things that there is no reason to believe, that I think is bad. That’s especially the case when the things are large and consequential and fundamentally arbitrary. It’s the lack of reasons more than the wrongness that I think is suspect.

Why? Why does it matter? Why do I think it matters? Because we need our ability to sort through beliefs, and detect which ones are likely to be false. We need to be able to reject unfounded truth claims. We need that for all sorts of reasons, both practical and intellectual. That means that early training in accepting reason-less truth claims delivered by authority is not useful. To the extent that indoctrination matches that description, it is not a good thing.

Well I had good luck with the travel: a big wind blew into California the night before I came down so it was crystal clear – the flyover of San Francisco was absolutely spectacular, and even the shuttle bus trip from San Jose to Monterey was beautiful. And the stars – !

The wind had died down but it was still very clear yesterday so I went to Point Lobos to take advantage of the weather while it lasted. I went to Sea Lion Point and Cypress Grove trail and then I went back on the North Shore trail, where I haven’t been before. It’s very up and down, so you keep arriving at places where you look down sheer rock faces to a cove far below with the surf thundering in. It’s very beautiful.

Hello. I haven’t disappeared – I spent most of today traveling and then a big chunk of it walking along a bit of the California coast in a strong wind and then another big chunk of it writing a piece for Comment is Free. Normal broadcasting will resume shortly.

Sad sad sad. Sunny at Liberal Conspiracy – see comment 12:

I buy Jonathan Dimbleby’s arguments:

First, even the editor agreed that printing the images were not central to the story anyway since the Yale Press was central to the story. So it’s not censorship. Printing them would be gratuitous.

Really. The images were not ‘central’ to the story because Yale Press was central to the story. Well what about Yale Press was central to the story? Its pretty blue eyes? Its taste in music? No; its withdrawal of illustrations from a book about a controversy about those illustrations. So in what sense were the illustrations not central to the story? Who decides what’s central? Since when is reporting supposed to stick to what is (by some very narrow definition) ‘central’ while stripping out everything that is (by some insanely broad definition) peripheral? Since when is the subject matter of a controversy not central to reporting on that controversy? How can it be ‘gratuitous’ to print something that is informative about the subject of the story? Would Sunny Hundal take that view of the matter if the subject were a strike or a debate in Parliament or a war? I doubt it, so why does he take it here? I don’t know.

Clive Davis:

The ultimate ethical tangle, or a simple case of selling out to intimidation? I never ran the images on my old blog because I always thought it was a case of stirring up controversy for its own sake. I also had major doubts about the motives of bloggers and activists who did use them. All in all, Dimbleby has made the right decision, but I can’t help wondering if he made it for the wrong reasons.

That’s it. He doesn’t say what he thinks the motives of those bloggers and activists were – he just throws a little stinkbomb of suspicion and then runs away. Tacky. Tacky tacky tacky.

Jonathan Dimbleby said one particularly odd thing in his explanation of Index’s decision.

When John Kampfner alerted me to the prospective publication of an interview with Jytte Klausen and to our editor’s wish to illustrate it with the “offending” cartoons, it was plainly a matter for the board to determine. Any other course would have been irresponsible…A year earlier, in September 2008, four men had been arrested for allegedly fire-bombing the North London home of the publisher of Gibson Books who had proposed publishing The Jewel of Medina. Only the most cavalier attitude towards the safety and security of those directly and indirectly involved in the publication of the Index interview would have failed to note that outrage.

Wait…what? Why? What’s he talking about? The Jewel of Medina is a different book. Why is Dimbleby taking it for granted that what four guys did by way of reaction to one book, or rather to the entirely manufactured fuss about one book, is relevant to a different book, a different situation, a different issue?

Well…uh…because the cartoons fuss was about Angry Muslims, and because the manufactured fuss about The Jewel of Medina would have been about Angry Muslims if it had ever happened as opposed to being predicted and then conjured up by the coverage of the prediction, and because the putative, notional, predicted fuss about the publication of the cartoons in Klausen’s book would have been about Angry Muslims if it had ever happened, which it never has, and because the New Improved putative, notional, predicted fuss about the publication of the cartoons at Index on Censorship would be about Angry Muslims again.

In other words, Dimbleby is extrapolating from the fact that four random guys attempted to set a fire in response to a worked-up fuss about one book and concluding that therefore it is dangerous to do something quite unrelated to that book (unless the word ‘Muslim’ is enough to make the two related) and that therefore it is worth self-censoring an organization that claims to monitor censorship. That is, if you think about it, a fairly ridiculous conclusion to draw. It borders on not thinking.

It also involves a kind of block thinking that in almost any other context would be called racist, or something similar. ‘Muslim’ is not a race, as I and others keep pointing out, but on the other hand, to take crazily thuggish behavior of a very few members of a perceived group as likely behavior of members of that group on all possible occasions, is to treat that group with a level of suspicion and generalized fear that is not usually consistent with equal treatment. It’s reasonable to think of groups such as murderers or terrorists that way, but with broader, non-criminal groups, a certain amount of benefit of the doubt is necessary for equality and fairness. The US internment of Japanese citizens during WW II is a classic illustration of that. Dimbleby’s unexplained jump from The Jewel of Medina to a completely different book carries an unpleasant whiff of universal suspicion.

The fact is, there has been no fuss about Klausen’s book, except for the one that Yale itself created. No fuss. No angry emails, no nothing. The anticipatory fuss is the only one there has been.

This is what happened with Random House and Denise Spellberg, and it is what happened with Does God Hate Women? – a reporter predicted a violent reaction to that book and the publisher got temporarily nervous. Fortunately and admirably that publisher – Continuum, Oliver Gadsby, Sarah Douglas – did much better than Random House and Yale. But the point is, in all three cases, there were no Angry Muslims, there were only people predicting Angry Muslims and then treating their predictions as if they were reality.

This is not just bad for free expression – it’s also unfair to Muslims! It’s the soft tyranny of low expectations. It’s not the way to go.

So Index on Censorship runs an interview in which Jo Glanville talks to Jytte Klausen about Yale University Press’s refusal to publish the Motoons in Klausen’s book on…the Motoons.

Not only were the cartoons removed from the book, but historic illustrations of Mohammed that Klausen had wanted to include to illustrate her thesis were also omitted. When the story leaked to the American press last summer, Yale was widely criticised for undermining academic freedom. Christopher Hitchens described it as “the latest and perhaps the worst episode in the steady surrender to religious extremism”.

Klausen points out that the cartoons were necessary for what she was attempting to do in the book.

In the book, and it was written with this purpose, I ask the reader to put on different glasses and look at the images and analyse them from the vantage point of the different arguments that were made against and for the cartoons at the time. What would a Danish reader see? What did the cartoonist intend to show? Why would a secular Muslim say they were Islamaphobic? Why would a religious Muslim say they were blasphemous? These are all different readings of the meaning of the cartoons and I wanted my readers to look at how no illustrations, and no caricature, is read in the absence of context.

Yet her publisher knocked the slats out from under that project by making it impossible for the reader to find the cartoons in the text.

Klausen tells Glanville how the academic panel who reviewed her book all recommended publication of the cartoons, and the much later meeting with John Donatich, the director of the press, who got her to agree, under protest, that they would be removed after all.

It was Orwellian because they were citing my own statistics and my own book against me. Linda Lorimer turned to the back of the book where there is a chronology of events and she said: “Here you write everything that has happened and look, here is your table that shows that the cartoons caused over 200 deaths,” and later they cited my own statistics in their justification for why they removed the illustrations. However, in my book I write very clearly these deaths were not caused by the cartoons, but were part of conflicts in pre-existing hot spots…The whole point of the book is that the cartoon conflict has been misreported as an instance of where Muslims are confronted with bad pictures and spontaneous riots explode in anger. That is absolutely not the case. These images have been exploited by political groups in the pre-existing conflict over Islam…So that’s the point of the book.

And yet the very press that is publishing the book gets it completely wrong – ignores the book itself to claim that ‘the cartoons caused deaths’ – which is such a stupid claim on its face that you would think people who run Yale and Yale University Press would be able to see through it. But apparently not.

And all this because of purely notional conditional subjunctive concerns – as Klausen notes.

You know there has not been a single security threat. There has not been a single angry email, fax, phone call from anybody Muslim. Yale University has not produced any threatening letters, I have not received any threatening letters, the press has not received any.

That’s the way it was with Does God Hate Women?, too – but Continuum did the right thing instead of the wrong one. Well done Continuum. Yale could learn a thing or two from you.

But that’s not the end of this story – that’s only the setting. The story here is that, unbelievably, Index on Censorship itself has decided to censor the cartoons. Yes you read that correctly – Index on Censorship itself has decided to censor the cartoons.

So at the top of the page is Index’s confession of its own pathetic dereliction, and then under that is the interview about Yale’s identical dereliction.

Words fail me. They didn’t fail Kenan Malik.

It’s an outrage.

Remember how the pope let us know how simply terrible he felt about what happened to those poor dear innocent children in Ireland? Remember how the Vatican said he shared the outrage, betrayal and shame felt by so many of the faithful in Ireland? Well, if that’s true, how does he explain an order he issued in 2001?

…an order ensuring the church’s investigations into child sex abuse claims be carried out in secret. The order was made in a confidential letter, obtained by The Observer, which was sent to every Catholic bishop in May 2001. It asserted the church’s right to hold its inquiries behind closed doors and keep the evidence confidential for up to 10 years after the victims reached adulthood. The letter was signed by Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger…Lawyers acting for abuse victims claim it was designed to prevent the allegations from becoming public knowledge or being investigated by the police. They accuse Ratzinger of committing a ‘clear obstruction of justice’.

That’s the same fella, you see. The very same guy. In 2001 Ratzinger sent a secret letter to every Catholic bishop ordering them to keep the investigation of criminal activity against children secret until as much as ten years after the children were old enough to fend for themselves. The same guy. So in what sense can it possibly be true that he shares the outrage, betrayal and shame felt by so many of the faithful in Ireland? What’s he doing, dancing around the Vatican whacking himself on the bum shouting ‘who’s a naughty boy?!’ in the manner of Basil Fawlty?

I don’t think so. I don’t think he’s doing that or anything like it. I think he’s worrying about how to go on protecting the Vatican’s reputation, and pretty much nothing else. Why do I think that? Because it’s what he did in 2001, so why should we think he’s doing anything different now?

Ratzinger’s letter states that the church can claim jurisdiction in cases where abuse has been ‘perpetrated with a minor by a cleric’. The letter states that the church’s jurisdiction ‘begins to run from the day when the minor has completed the 18th year of age’ and lasts for 10 years. It orders that ‘preliminary investigations’ into any claims of abuse should be sent to Ratzinger’s office, which has the option of referring them back to private tribunals in which the ‘functions of judge, promoter of justice, notary and legal representative can validly be performed for these cases only by priests. Cases of this kind are subject to the pontifical secret,’ Ratzinger’s letter concludes. Breaching the pontifical secret at any time while the 10-year jurisdiction order is operating carries penalties, including the threat of excommunication.

In other words Ratzinger simply declares that the church has jurisdiction over a serious crime and has the option of exercising that jurisdiction all by itself and in secret. Who knew churches had the power to do that?! Even the Vatican, which is a ‘state’ – but a state with, apparently, citizens anywhere on the globe in the form of priests. So priests have sovereign immunity and can molest children with impunity from secular law enforcement? I don’t think that’s actually legal doctrine – yet apparently Ratzinger can do that and get away with it. So far, anyway.

The letter is referred to in documents relating to a lawsuit filed earlier this year against a church in Texas and Ratzinger on behalf of two alleged abuse victims. By sending the letter, lawyers acting for the alleged victims claim the cardinal conspired to obstruct justice. Daniel Shea, the lawyer for the two alleged victims who discovered the letter, said: ‘It speaks for itself. You have to ask: why do you not start the clock ticking until the kid turns 18? It’s an obstruction of justice.’

And it is entirely inconsistent with the pope’s now pretending he gives a shit about the children who were the alleged victims. The pope is simply another self-protective boss-man shielding his organization. Crocodile tears simply add insult to injury.

I’m reading Decoding the Language of God: Can a Scientist Really Be a Believer? by George Cunningham, a retired geneticist. It’s an extended response to Francis Collins’s The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for Belief. It’s good stuff.

Cunningham asks some telling questions on page 65:

Collins finally gives up any claim of being a reasonable scientist when he says, “we may never fully understand the reasons” for suffering as part of God’s plan. What kind of God expects us to live according to a plan that makes no sense to us and is beyond our comprehension? What kind of God would give us a brain that can reason and follow logic then expect us to believe in and worship an irrational, unintelligible, or evil God?

Quite – that’s just about exactly what I said in my essay for 50 Voices of Disbelief. I said it at more length, because I think it’s absolutely crucial, and central.

God shouldn’t be testing our faith. If it wants to test something it should be testing our ability to detect frauds and cheats and liars – not our gormless credulity and docility and willingness to be conned. God should know the difference between good qualities and bad ones, and not be encouraging the latter at the expense of the former.

But then (we are told) “faith” would be too easy; in fact, it would be compelled, and that won’t do. Faith is a kind of heroic discipline, like yoga or playing the violin. Faith has to overcome resistance, or it doesn’t count. If God just comes right out and tells us, beyond possibility of doubt, that God exists, that’s an unworthy shortcut, like a sprinter taking steroids. No, we have to earn faith by our own efforts, which means by believing God exists despite all the evidence indicating it doesn’t and the complete lack of evidence indicating it does.

In other words, God wants us to veto all our best reasoning faculties and methods of inquiry, and to believe in God for no real reason. God wants us not to do what we do in all the rest of life when we really do want to find something out – where the food is, when the storm is going to hit, whether the water is safe to drink, what medication to take for our illness – and simply decide God exists, like tossing a coin.

I refuse. I refuse to consider a God “good” that expects us to ignore our own best judgment and reasoning faculties. That’s a deal-breaker. That’s nothing but a nasty trick. This God is supposed to have made us, after all, so it made us with these reasoning faculties, which, when functioning properly, can detect mistakes and obvious lies – so what business would it have expecting us to contradict all that for no good reason? As a test? None. It would have no business doing that.

A God that permanently hides, and gives us no real evidence of its existence – yet considers it a virtue to have faith that it does exist despite the lack of evidence – is a God that’s just plain cheating, and I want nothing to do with it. It has no right to blame us for not believing it exists, given the evidence and our reasoning capacities, so if it did exist and did blame us, it would be a nasty piece of work.

The tone is somewhat jokey, and I do think the whole idea is funny, but I’m also dead serious. That is exactly what I think and I also think it’s a killer objection – in the sense that a decent God just can’t be rescued from that observation. The whole set-up really is a cheat, and it can’t be seen as anything else. We do have faculties that work, and it is beneficial for us that they work, yet when it comes to God we are supposed to do the opposite of what we do the rest of the time. We are supposed to veto our own cognitive abilities and just believe things for no good reason. That’s backward. A decent God shouldn’t expect that kind of reversal. It’s a cheat and it’s also an insult – which is probably why we argumentative atheists get so riled at people like Collins. He’s a scientist himself, yet he endorses this reversal – this cheat and insult.

If you checked News today you may have noticed that I did a Q&A at Science and Religion. This is faintly interesting or amusing or both because back at the beginning of the month, a mere couple of weeks ago, I was pointing out the different language used there for three men on the one hand and one woman on the other hand. Well they’re good sports at Science and Religion; Heather Wax thanked me for my comments and invited me to do this Q and A. So I did.

I enjoyed doing it, because this question interests me. I’m interested in social pressure and expectations and how they can become internalized and taken for granted so that we don’t know they’re operating and we think we’re making up our own minds when in fact we’re influenced by what other people think we should be doing and saying and wearing, along with a thousand other things. Don’t go thinking I think I’m immune to that kind of thing, because I don’t at all. I know very well I’m not.

I also don’t object to that, given that the alternative is just to be completely random, and what good would that be? We’re all influenced by a million things, and most of that we wouldn’t be without – that’s why we read books and talk to each other, after all. We operate in a context and at a particular time, we admire some things and despise others, we do things and say things for reasons. It all has to come from somewhere. But – it’s as well to be aware that influence is influence, as opposed to thinking it’s just How Things Are and How They Have to Be.

The thing about women and aggression is that it may or may not be the case that women as such are averse to aggression, but it’s pretty obvious that a lot of people want women to be averse to aggression, in the sense of compliant, complaisant, not argumentative. That level of aversion to perceived aggression would be a huge handicap for women, so if we are in fact by nature that turned off by argument and disagreement, we should train ourselves to get over it. We shouldn’t embrace claims that we are so ‘nice’ and conflict-averse that we react to a few brisk words from Dawkins or Hitchens with squeals of horror. We should be tougher than that. That doesn’t mean we should be brutal or sadistic, it just means we should be able to play with the big kids without bursting into tears all the time. It means we should be grown ups.

I despise Joe Lieberman. I always have, but every time I hear about him again, I despise him more. Treacherous, self-satisfied, self-aggrandizing, self-admiring – happy to make millions of fellow-citizens worse off than they would otherwise be, just for the sake of his own preening smirking ego. What a sack of shit.

Jerry Coyne’s post on Francis Collins versus Primo Levi on theodicy prompted me to read Survival in Auschwitz again. So I am. I read this passage earlier today, on p 41, in which Levi reports something another prisoner told him:

…precisely because the Lager was a great machine to reduce us to beasts, we must not become beasts; that even in this place one can survive, and therefore one must want to survive, to tell the story, to bear witness; and that to survive we must force ourselves to save at least the skeleton, the scaffolding, the form of civilization. We are slaves, deprived of every right, exposed to every insult, condemned to certain death, but we still possess one power, and we must defend it with all our strength for it is the last – the power to refuse our consent.

A couple of days ago I read a passage in Lauren Slater’s Inside Skinner’s Box. The book is about various famous experiments in psychology, and it starts with probably the most famous of all, the Milgram experiment. Slater talks to two men who took part in the experiment in the early 60s, one who didn’t fully obey but stopped at 150 volts, and one who went all the way to the end. The latter, when he was debriefed at the end of the experiment, was horrified. “You thought you were really giving shocks, and nothing can take away from you the knowledge of how you acted. There’s no turning back.”

So Slater asks him, “I would guess you think the experiments were essentially unethical, that they caused you harm.”

No, he replies. No. “Not at all. If anything, just the opposite.”

She stares at him.

“The experiments,” he continues, “caused me to reevalute my life. They caused me to confront my own compliance and really struggle with it. I began to see closeted homosexuality, which is just another form of compliance, as a moral issue. I came out. I saw how important it was to develop a strong moral center. I felt my own moral weakness and I was appalled…I saw how pathetically vulnerable I was to authority, so I kept a strict eye on myself and learned to buck expectations.” [p 60]

Those two passages seem to me to be saying essentially the same thing, and a very important thing it is.

Poor bishop. He may have just meant something like ‘Take the Taliban seriously,’ but he said more than that.

There’s a large number of things that the Taliban say and stand for which none of us in the west could approve, but simply to say therefore that everything they do is bad is not helping the situation because it’s not honest really. The Taliban can perhaps be admired for their conviction to their faith and their sense of loyalty to each other.”

Yes but…pretty much everything they do that is relevant to this discussion is bad. They probably manage to sleep and scratch itches in ways that are not bad, but their public activities are bad. They do bad things. They treat people badly. Life under them is harsh and deprived and subject to violence.

And they cannot and should not be admired for their conviction to their faith, because their faith is narrow and cruel and misogynist, and because it motivates them to treat people like so much dust for a god to sweep. They cannot and should not be admired for their loyalty to each other because that is simply the obverse of their muderous hatred of everyone else. It’s slightly bizarre to see a bishop failing to understand this – it seems so obvious and elementary and essential to understand.

“To blanket them all as evil and paint them as black is not helpful in a very complex situation.” Bishop Venner said that everyone in Afghanistan, including the Taliban, would have to be included in discussions to find a solution to the conflict. “Afghanistan is going we hope in the end to find a way to live together with justice and prosperity for all. In order to do that we have to involve all the people of Afghanistan to find it.”

Yes, we hope, but if the Taliban are part of that, ‘justice’ will be ruled out, so pious hopes are worth nothing. Maybe some or many or most current Taliban can be turned, can become reasonable and fair and peaceable – but they have to be turned. A Taliban that remains the Taliban is not going to lead to a way to live together with justice and prosperity for all. That would be like (as many people have been telling the bishop) like expecting Nazis to do that. It’s not a question of painting people as black, it’s a question of understanding what a particular ideology is. An ideology that is centrally about coercion and bullying and death-for-the-noncompliant isn’t one that is going to become its own opposite merely because the bombing stops.

Sad.

[T]he Qur’an’s message of equality resonated in the teaching that women and men have been created from a single self and are each other’s guides who have the mutual obligation to enjoin what is right and to forbid what is wrong. But, then, there are those other verses that Muslims read as saying that men are better than women and their guardians and giving men the right to unfettered polygyny and even to beat a recalcitrant wife. To read the Qur’an in my youth was thus to be caught up in a seemingly irresolvable and agonizing dilemma of how to reconcile these two sets of verses not just with one another but also with a view of God as just, consistent, merciful, and above sexual partisanship.

Right. And the solution is to realize that the Qur’an is a book like other books, and that one is free to take from it what one admires and ignore or dispute the rest; that, indeed, one is free to ignore all of it. That is the only real solution, because anything short of that commits one to paltering with bad harmful unjust ideas.

It has taken the better part of my life to resolve this dilemma and it has involved learning (from the discipline of hermeneutics) that language–hence interpretation—is not fixed or transparent and that the meanings of a text change depending on who interprets it and how.

It’s too bad that it took so long, and that so much effort was wasted, but anyway, yes, of course. Language and interpretation are human, and therefore fallible and subject to change, and there is no requirement to take any of it as sacred and beyond criticism or alteration. That’s all there is to it – so there’s really no need to fret about how to interpret the Qur’an, or any other book.

Most Muslims, however, are unconvinced by this argument and it may be because viewing God’s speech (thus also God) as patriarchal allows the conservatives to justify male privilege…

Ya think? But at any rate, that is why all this hermeneutics is a waste of time and effort. Believe in a just god if you like, but don’t waste your energy trying to reconcile a centuries-old patriarchal book with your own view of sexual equality.

Pathetic that the New Statesman thinks it’s worth wasting time and effort on such an enterprise.