It has been months and months since I last successfully posted. I have written a few drafts that will probably never see the light of day. I think what I really needed was some time to step back and let some of the hurt I felt at losing my faith really start to heal over.
For the most part, I'm not angry anymore. The only times I'm even irked are in Sunday School (I just can stand listening to logical fallacies stated as if they were sound reason for an hour at a time) and occasionally when I see friends inadvertently hurt by elements of church culture (which I admit is a problem with specific people, not the actual theology or organization of the church proper).
I have begun to admit to more people my lack of belief more than ever before, and I feel like I don't have to be very defensive about it. I mean, I don't tell everyone I see, but I find that most folks are quite accepting when I explain myself.
I still try to keep my mind open to the possibility that I've missed something. Maybe the LDS church is true after all? I still doubt it as much as ever, but I don't want to miss truth regardless of its potential effect on my ego.
My most recent experiment with prayer involved a 6-sided die: I would pray, carefully explaining that in my pride I was having difficulty getting answers and maybe instead of waiting I should come up with a suggestion like the brother of Jared, so I asked if God couldn't help me predict the outcome of a die roll with statistical significance. I'd pray before each roll and conducted a large number of trials, but ultimately the results were very bland indeed: I successfully predicted the roll just barely under 1/6 of the time.
Blasphemous? I don't know, but I thought if I had an idea I might as well give it a shot. Can't be any more blasphemous than myself of a year ago shaking my fist at the sky and daring God in filthy language to strike me down to hell immediately.
Was with my family for Christmas, it was really great. Had only one major religious discussion with my parents, and it went very smoothly, considering. I think their hopes for my swift reconversion are a little higher than is justified, but they are very accepting of me.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Revisiting the Watchmaker - Bayes' Theorem
I have previously explained the watchmaker argument and the inherent circularity, but I thought I would expand my objections with a bit more mathematical rigor.
As a brief review, the watchmaker argument involves a cute little story about finding a beautiful gold watch in the middle of nowhere and, how silly it is to conclude that the watch was not manufactured by some intelligent being.
The main thrust of this argument is this: the likelihood of the existence of a complex universe containing life is very small if there is no intelligence to deliberately create it.
Now I will briefly explain Bayes' theorem.
If P(A|B) is the probability of A given B
and P(A) is the independent probability of A (not given any other variables),
Then P(A|B) = P(B|A)*P(A)/P(B).
Now, let's look at the watchmaker argument. We have two propositions:
G = God Exists
L = Life Exists (in a complex universe)
(Not G is written ~G)
We are to assume, from the argument, that P(L|G) is much, much larger than P(L|~G). This is debatable, but there are some arguments in favor of this.
The watchmaker argument would have you believe that P(G|L) is large because P(L|~G) is so small, that is, if there is life, god likely exists because life is so unlikely to exist without god. Essentially, the statement is that P(G|L) = 1 - P(~G|L) = (approx) 1 - P(L|~G).
However, inverse probabilities are not so simple as this naive argument would have you believe. In reality:
P(G|L) = 1 - P(~G|L) = 1 - P(L|~G)*P(~G)/P(L).
What we don't know here is the relative magnitude of P(L|~G)*P(~G)/P(L), because the likelihood of god's existence (independent of other variables) is unknown. Therefore, no conclusions can be drawn. If P(L|~G)*P(~G)/P(L) is close to 1, then P(G|L) is actually very small, close to zero.
Now, I think I've made my point, but I'd like to venture into the realm of speculation now, so take this as you will.
Does god count as life? If so, then P(G) < P(L) assuming that life besides god can possibly exist.
If that is the case, then P(G)/P(L) < 1, so P(G|L) = P(L|G)*P(G)/P(L) < P(L|G).
This gives us the rather minor conclusion that life must give god's chance less of a boost than god give's life's chance. Thus, the watchmaker argument is inherently weaker than it purports to be.
As a brief review, the watchmaker argument involves a cute little story about finding a beautiful gold watch in the middle of nowhere and, how silly it is to conclude that the watch was not manufactured by some intelligent being.
The main thrust of this argument is this: the likelihood of the existence of a complex universe containing life is very small if there is no intelligence to deliberately create it.
Now I will briefly explain Bayes' theorem.
If P(A|B) is the probability of A given B
and P(A) is the independent probability of A (not given any other variables),
Then P(A|B) = P(B|A)*P(A)/P(B).
Now, let's look at the watchmaker argument. We have two propositions:
G = God Exists
L = Life Exists (in a complex universe)
(Not G is written ~G)
We are to assume, from the argument, that P(L|G) is much, much larger than P(L|~G). This is debatable, but there are some arguments in favor of this.
The watchmaker argument would have you believe that P(G|L) is large because P(L|~G) is so small, that is, if there is life, god likely exists because life is so unlikely to exist without god. Essentially, the statement is that P(G|L) = 1 - P(~G|L) = (approx) 1 - P(L|~G).
However, inverse probabilities are not so simple as this naive argument would have you believe. In reality:
P(G|L) = 1 - P(~G|L) = 1 - P(L|~G)*P(~G)/P(L).
What we don't know here is the relative magnitude of P(L|~G)*P(~G)/P(L), because the likelihood of god's existence (independent of other variables) is unknown. Therefore, no conclusions can be drawn. If P(L|~G)*P(~G)/P(L) is close to 1, then P(G|L) is actually very small, close to zero.
Now, I think I've made my point, but I'd like to venture into the realm of speculation now, so take this as you will.
Does god count as life? If so, then P(G) < P(L) assuming that life besides god can possibly exist.
If that is the case, then P(G)/P(L) < 1, so P(G|L) = P(L|G)*P(G)/P(L) < P(L|G).
This gives us the rather minor conclusion that life must give god's chance less of a boost than god give's life's chance. Thus, the watchmaker argument is inherently weaker than it purports to be.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Changes
I haven't been writing much at all lately. To be perfectly honest, things have been changing rapidly in the last few weeks.
I'm happier, for one thing. I have motivation once again to get things done, and I can take satisfaction in my work, something that seems pretty novel after months of deep depression.
I'm on good terms with my family, and I'm open about how I feel about religion. I am actually trying to be friendly at church... if I'm going to remain more or less active for my wife's sake, I guess I'd better start learning to be comfortable in the community.
My political views have been evolving as well. I have actually been thinking a lot about libertarianism and the role of government lately... something I have avoided doing out of sheer horror at the obnoxiously-uninformed rhetoric of the teabaggers. Not that I'm becoming libertarian, but I feel that it's healthy to seriously consider views other than those I've become accustomed to holding.
To be perfectly honest, I've actually become more pessimistic, politically. I don't feel like there is anything that can be done at this point to save our civilization... our society is consuming resources and energy at ever-higher rates despite the decreasing cost-effectiveness of all of our resource-gathering operations. But I suppose all civilizations must fall.
I may write more about all this later... I'm still considering a lot of things.
I have been taken by surprise at how quickly things seem to change. I'm almost afraid of the feelings of hope and contentedness that I have recently begun to experience... like I can't trust them. Maybe I can't, maybe life sucks and I'm only in denial if I feel otherwise. I'm still not convinced that life can have any meaning... but at least I'm enjoying it a little, now. Perhaps what I'm most afraid of is a loss of objectivity... I have no desire to simply become caught-up in my own affairs to the point at which I'm not thinking constantly and thoroughly about the state of the world around me.
I'm still not completely convinced that a healthy mind is a sane mind.
I'm happier, for one thing. I have motivation once again to get things done, and I can take satisfaction in my work, something that seems pretty novel after months of deep depression.
I'm on good terms with my family, and I'm open about how I feel about religion. I am actually trying to be friendly at church... if I'm going to remain more or less active for my wife's sake, I guess I'd better start learning to be comfortable in the community.
My political views have been evolving as well. I have actually been thinking a lot about libertarianism and the role of government lately... something I have avoided doing out of sheer horror at the obnoxiously-uninformed rhetoric of the teabaggers. Not that I'm becoming libertarian, but I feel that it's healthy to seriously consider views other than those I've become accustomed to holding.
To be perfectly honest, I've actually become more pessimistic, politically. I don't feel like there is anything that can be done at this point to save our civilization... our society is consuming resources and energy at ever-higher rates despite the decreasing cost-effectiveness of all of our resource-gathering operations. But I suppose all civilizations must fall.
I may write more about all this later... I'm still considering a lot of things.
I have been taken by surprise at how quickly things seem to change. I'm almost afraid of the feelings of hope and contentedness that I have recently begun to experience... like I can't trust them. Maybe I can't, maybe life sucks and I'm only in denial if I feel otherwise. I'm still not convinced that life can have any meaning... but at least I'm enjoying it a little, now. Perhaps what I'm most afraid of is a loss of objectivity... I have no desire to simply become caught-up in my own affairs to the point at which I'm not thinking constantly and thoroughly about the state of the world around me.
I'm still not completely convinced that a healthy mind is a sane mind.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Rebellion, or Something More?
It has been a very eventful and draining few weeks, and I haven't posted on here in a while. I do, however, have a lot of things I've been thinking about.
I've had the chance to talk recently with some people pretty frankly about my lack of a testimony. It's awkward to have to tell people (when they seem like they might invite me to go to the temple) "um... I should probably let you know that I don't have a temple recommend." I always follow it up with "I'm not involved in anything horrible, I just don't have a testimony and can't answer 'yes' to the questions about belief in the interview." I don't know exactly why I feel like I have to justify myself in this way. I guess, with most of my family and friends being strongly Mormon, I don't want to be seen as "weak and sinful" so much as "questioning."
I really don't think the church is correct. It's history is filled with silly inconsistencies, and it's doctrine doesn't seem to match what I perceive as true. I was told recently that it is silly to judge the church based on statements by a previous, imperfect prophet (like Brigham Young, who even Mormons will admit had some wacky ideas). I defended myself by saying that yes, but if there is going to be an ultimate source of "revelation" on the Earth, it had damn-well better stick out in some way. I don't find that the LDS "prophets" tend to be much more correct in their statements, predictions, and assertions than any other person claiming to be in close contact with god.
I guess what has really been hitting me is the fact that I'm probably never going to believe in the church again (or god, for that matter), and that is going to have a profound impact on my relationship with my family and friends. Many in my family will always think somewhat less of me because of it. I will be excluded from family events and activities, like temple weddings. I really love my family, and it makes me sad that my lack of belief puts distance between them and me. It's almost enough to make me want to pretend to believe, just so I can avoid all of that.
But, I just can't live a lie. The LDS church is very likely based on fiction, as far as I can tell. I am interested in truth, and I want to seek truth, not accept (or even pretend to accept) what some others around me insist is truth.
I've had moments of extreme elation as I've learned to think for myself and question my own unfounded beliefs, but it's definitely not all fun and games. I know there is a certain entertainment I get from the rebellious aspect of the change in my life, but this is not about rebellion, ultimately. I am very sad, sometimes, that I will never be to my family what I could be if I just never questioned the religion of my upbringing. At these times, I review my present conclusions, earnestly trying to determine whether maybe I'm just being rebellious or have some other ulterior motive for my lack of belief. I haven't once concluded that this is the case... I have very real reasons for doubting god's existence, and I just couldn't go back to believing given my present knowledge and experiences. I need integrity.
I've had the chance to talk recently with some people pretty frankly about my lack of a testimony. It's awkward to have to tell people (when they seem like they might invite me to go to the temple) "um... I should probably let you know that I don't have a temple recommend." I always follow it up with "I'm not involved in anything horrible, I just don't have a testimony and can't answer 'yes' to the questions about belief in the interview." I don't know exactly why I feel like I have to justify myself in this way. I guess, with most of my family and friends being strongly Mormon, I don't want to be seen as "weak and sinful" so much as "questioning."
I really don't think the church is correct. It's history is filled with silly inconsistencies, and it's doctrine doesn't seem to match what I perceive as true. I was told recently that it is silly to judge the church based on statements by a previous, imperfect prophet (like Brigham Young, who even Mormons will admit had some wacky ideas). I defended myself by saying that yes, but if there is going to be an ultimate source of "revelation" on the Earth, it had damn-well better stick out in some way. I don't find that the LDS "prophets" tend to be much more correct in their statements, predictions, and assertions than any other person claiming to be in close contact with god.
I guess what has really been hitting me is the fact that I'm probably never going to believe in the church again (or god, for that matter), and that is going to have a profound impact on my relationship with my family and friends. Many in my family will always think somewhat less of me because of it. I will be excluded from family events and activities, like temple weddings. I really love my family, and it makes me sad that my lack of belief puts distance between them and me. It's almost enough to make me want to pretend to believe, just so I can avoid all of that.
But, I just can't live a lie. The LDS church is very likely based on fiction, as far as I can tell. I am interested in truth, and I want to seek truth, not accept (or even pretend to accept) what some others around me insist is truth.
I've had moments of extreme elation as I've learned to think for myself and question my own unfounded beliefs, but it's definitely not all fun and games. I know there is a certain entertainment I get from the rebellious aspect of the change in my life, but this is not about rebellion, ultimately. I am very sad, sometimes, that I will never be to my family what I could be if I just never questioned the religion of my upbringing. At these times, I review my present conclusions, earnestly trying to determine whether maybe I'm just being rebellious or have some other ulterior motive for my lack of belief. I haven't once concluded that this is the case... I have very real reasons for doubting god's existence, and I just couldn't go back to believing given my present knowledge and experiences. I need integrity.
Tuesday, May 3, 2011
The Curious Case of Korihor
Korihor is a character who turns up in the Book of Mormon in Alma 30.
Korihor is an atheist. He works hard to try to tell people that they don't have very good reasons to believe what they believe, and maybe they'd better take a good look at their leaders and their beliefs. He tells them that Christ will not come, because why would you believe someone who says he knows the future?
Korihor ends up having a showdown with Alma. Korihor welcomes to opportunity for dialogue, and explains why he is trying to get people to doubt the gospel. Eventually, Korihor keeps saying that he won't believe in god without proof, so Alma gives him proof... he strikes him dumb by god's power!
Here is where the nefarious aspect of Korihor's story comes out. Alma accuses Korihor of lying about Alma and other church leaders' taking advantage of the people, while in actuality they don't get a dime for their service. The account seems to support this accusation. Alma also says "can you prove that there isn't a god?" and Korihor is duped. Finally, the truth comes out: Korihor had been approached by Satan (in the deceptive guise of an angel) and set on his blasphemous task. He is the literal, willing servant of Satan, who manages to preach so subtly that even he starts believing his own lies.
Korihor is a very cleverly-made caricature of a skeptic. Initially, his arguments seems reasonable enough, and he seems to be concerned for the welfare of his fellow citizens. However, the righteous servants of god soon reveal that he is a fake who is literally in the employ of Satan himself.
The beauty of the Korihor story is that it gives LDS theology a delightful straw-man with which to equate all atheists, skeptics, and critics. Sure, these people might seem like they are honestly out to make a point, but they are all really just working for Satan for their own selfish purposes.
Now, I can't honestly speak for all atheists, critics, and skeptics. But I consider myself a skeptic, atheist, and critic of religion, and I haven't seen any angels. I know some accuse the leaders of the church of taking the money of the church and enjoying their positions of power, but I honestly think that they probably work pretty hard for what they believe is right and correct, and don't get all that wealthy doing it. I don't find a whole lot of similarity between Korihor and myself. I'm content to leave those who are not interested in skeptical inquiry alone. I haven't talked to Satan lately.
But I do happen to agree with Korihor on a few points. I don't feel that there is sufficient evidence generally available to justify the insistence on the existence of some intelligent, paternal god. I fear that religious leaders intentionally obfuscate the issues with their rhetoric, though I think that in many cases their intentions are good enough.
The point of Korihor is to show the LDS church that all those who criticize their unquestioning belief must be evil satanists with ulterior motives. I must be just like Korihor, right? The thing that makes Korihor really effective is his humanity, his believability as he is introduced in the text. Subtly and slowly, it is revealed what a real liar he is. If he had been presented immediately as a satanic man with clear ambitions of power and influence, he would be hard to compare to a lot of skeptics out there, but as he starts off as a more believable character, it is easier to equate actual skeptics with him and then assume that they are hiding similarly-nasty secrets.
All-in-all, the story of Korihor is a master stroke in creating preconceived prejudice against those of a more skeptical nature.
Korihor is an atheist. He works hard to try to tell people that they don't have very good reasons to believe what they believe, and maybe they'd better take a good look at their leaders and their beliefs. He tells them that Christ will not come, because why would you believe someone who says he knows the future?
Korihor ends up having a showdown with Alma. Korihor welcomes to opportunity for dialogue, and explains why he is trying to get people to doubt the gospel. Eventually, Korihor keeps saying that he won't believe in god without proof, so Alma gives him proof... he strikes him dumb by god's power!
Here is where the nefarious aspect of Korihor's story comes out. Alma accuses Korihor of lying about Alma and other church leaders' taking advantage of the people, while in actuality they don't get a dime for their service. The account seems to support this accusation. Alma also says "can you prove that there isn't a god?" and Korihor is duped. Finally, the truth comes out: Korihor had been approached by Satan (in the deceptive guise of an angel) and set on his blasphemous task. He is the literal, willing servant of Satan, who manages to preach so subtly that even he starts believing his own lies.
Korihor is a very cleverly-made caricature of a skeptic. Initially, his arguments seems reasonable enough, and he seems to be concerned for the welfare of his fellow citizens. However, the righteous servants of god soon reveal that he is a fake who is literally in the employ of Satan himself.
The beauty of the Korihor story is that it gives LDS theology a delightful straw-man with which to equate all atheists, skeptics, and critics. Sure, these people might seem like they are honestly out to make a point, but they are all really just working for Satan for their own selfish purposes.
Now, I can't honestly speak for all atheists, critics, and skeptics. But I consider myself a skeptic, atheist, and critic of religion, and I haven't seen any angels. I know some accuse the leaders of the church of taking the money of the church and enjoying their positions of power, but I honestly think that they probably work pretty hard for what they believe is right and correct, and don't get all that wealthy doing it. I don't find a whole lot of similarity between Korihor and myself. I'm content to leave those who are not interested in skeptical inquiry alone. I haven't talked to Satan lately.
But I do happen to agree with Korihor on a few points. I don't feel that there is sufficient evidence generally available to justify the insistence on the existence of some intelligent, paternal god. I fear that religious leaders intentionally obfuscate the issues with their rhetoric, though I think that in many cases their intentions are good enough.
The point of Korihor is to show the LDS church that all those who criticize their unquestioning belief must be evil satanists with ulterior motives. I must be just like Korihor, right? The thing that makes Korihor really effective is his humanity, his believability as he is introduced in the text. Subtly and slowly, it is revealed what a real liar he is. If he had been presented immediately as a satanic man with clear ambitions of power and influence, he would be hard to compare to a lot of skeptics out there, but as he starts off as a more believable character, it is easier to equate actual skeptics with him and then assume that they are hiding similarly-nasty secrets.
All-in-all, the story of Korihor is a master stroke in creating preconceived prejudice against those of a more skeptical nature.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Hooray for America
Osama Bin Laden is dead! Whoopdy-hoo!
We managed to kill the guy we wanted dead, and it only cost thousands of American lives (not to mention the casualties on the other side), trillions of taxpayer dollars, and the respect of the international community.
But, of course, we are completely justified in calling for the blood of such a bloodthirsty killer, right? He killed Americans, so he's evil, and we killed him and his buddies, so we're heroic, strong, and brave.
After all, we're a Christian nation, right? And Christianity is all about revenge.
Matthew 5:39 - “Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him [and rip his freaking head off!]”
America: ruthlessly disposing of and dancing on the graves of those who oppose us since 1776.
We managed to kill the guy we wanted dead, and it only cost thousands of American lives (not to mention the casualties on the other side), trillions of taxpayer dollars, and the respect of the international community.
But, of course, we are completely justified in calling for the blood of such a bloodthirsty killer, right? He killed Americans, so he's evil, and we killed him and his buddies, so we're heroic, strong, and brave.
After all, we're a Christian nation, right? And Christianity is all about revenge.
Matthew 5:39 - “Whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him [and rip his freaking head off!]”
America: ruthlessly disposing of and dancing on the graves of those who oppose us since 1776.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
There's no "My" in "Myself"
Am I my own? If I belong to myself, what part of me is the owner, and what part the property? Can property own itself? It seems that such words start to lose their meaning once you hit this level of abstraction.
I think there are those who would have me believe that I am "my own person." My life, body, consciousness, abilities... these all belong to me. But when my makeup and circumstances define what I want to do with this "property" of mine, these things are my rulers, not my slaves. It all seems contrived, but then, so is the general concept of ownership.
More interesting still are the folks who would have me believe that I am not my own person, but that my whole being is on loan from god. I guess it's not inconceivable that I'm god's little pet.
My question is, does god own himself? Or is it equally blurry for him as it is for us? If god can't change his nature because of his nature, then he's as much a slave as any of us.
God's ownership of us is at least in keeping with the general idea of property rights. God has supposedly claimed us as "his," and has the power to whack anyone who tries to ignore his claim. We are his to destroy or give away or bake into a hot-dish. If you owned a sack of flour, the same would be true about you. Ultimately, some people respect your property in order not to get whacked by someone (some are respectful out of moral principle, but we know for sure that this is not true of all). You can do what you like with it.
However, I don't see why I have any reason to respect god's ownership of me. Okay, he could pound me to bits like any defective toy and toss me out with Monday's trash, so if I want to avoid that I should behave. But when a piece of property malfunctions, we usually find it quite juvenile to get all mad and blame the object in question. There are a couple of terms that I like that refer to the cause of computer error: GIGO (Garbage in, Garbage out), and PEBCAK (Problem exists between chair and keyboard). How about human error? God made us, so it's all his fault, right? Design flaws?
If, however, we have free will or some germ of existence that is independent of god (as is stated in LDS theology), what we do is no longer god's fault. However, in this case I would call into question the justice of god's claim of ownership. Sure, god can still cause us pain and suffering and maybe even nonexistence of some sort, but "might makes right" is not a just moral precept, only an effective one. If I was an intelligence before I was a spirit, what right did god have to pick me up, stick me into a spirit somehow, and then claim ownership over me as my "creator?" As I understand it, he, too, is nothing more than a little chunk of intelligence that got stuck into a spirit and then a body, and then eventually got pretty powerful.
Come to think of it, this is starting to sound like abusive behavior toward children propagating down through multiple generations. Perhaps god is as much a victim as we are, and is dealing with us the way he learned, the way he was dealt with.
I don't really think there's a god, but I sure like to try to figure out what the existence of a god would mean for ethics and reality, not to mention our bizarre relationship with him.
I think there are those who would have me believe that I am "my own person." My life, body, consciousness, abilities... these all belong to me. But when my makeup and circumstances define what I want to do with this "property" of mine, these things are my rulers, not my slaves. It all seems contrived, but then, so is the general concept of ownership.
More interesting still are the folks who would have me believe that I am not my own person, but that my whole being is on loan from god. I guess it's not inconceivable that I'm god's little pet.
My question is, does god own himself? Or is it equally blurry for him as it is for us? If god can't change his nature because of his nature, then he's as much a slave as any of us.
God's ownership of us is at least in keeping with the general idea of property rights. God has supposedly claimed us as "his," and has the power to whack anyone who tries to ignore his claim. We are his to destroy or give away or bake into a hot-dish. If you owned a sack of flour, the same would be true about you. Ultimately, some people respect your property in order not to get whacked by someone (some are respectful out of moral principle, but we know for sure that this is not true of all). You can do what you like with it.
However, I don't see why I have any reason to respect god's ownership of me. Okay, he could pound me to bits like any defective toy and toss me out with Monday's trash, so if I want to avoid that I should behave. But when a piece of property malfunctions, we usually find it quite juvenile to get all mad and blame the object in question. There are a couple of terms that I like that refer to the cause of computer error: GIGO (Garbage in, Garbage out), and PEBCAK (Problem exists between chair and keyboard). How about human error? God made us, so it's all his fault, right? Design flaws?
If, however, we have free will or some germ of existence that is independent of god (as is stated in LDS theology), what we do is no longer god's fault. However, in this case I would call into question the justice of god's claim of ownership. Sure, god can still cause us pain and suffering and maybe even nonexistence of some sort, but "might makes right" is not a just moral precept, only an effective one. If I was an intelligence before I was a spirit, what right did god have to pick me up, stick me into a spirit somehow, and then claim ownership over me as my "creator?" As I understand it, he, too, is nothing more than a little chunk of intelligence that got stuck into a spirit and then a body, and then eventually got pretty powerful.
Come to think of it, this is starting to sound like abusive behavior toward children propagating down through multiple generations. Perhaps god is as much a victim as we are, and is dealing with us the way he learned, the way he was dealt with.
I don't really think there's a god, but I sure like to try to figure out what the existence of a god would mean for ethics and reality, not to mention our bizarre relationship with him.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Reductionism and the LDS Faith
Reductionism is the idea that, simply put, all phenomena are comprised of simpler phenomena, down until only a few basic rules govern the whole thing.
This view supports the concept that human behavior is just psychology, which is just specialized biology, which is just specialized chemistry, which is just specialized physics, which is ultimately knowable through mathematical models only. Thus, human beings and their behavior are nothing more than the interactions of many, many particles based on a few basic rules.
I tend to be reductionist in my thinking. Religious folks, of course, tend to reject the idea of reductionism, because it demotes human beings to somewhat-less than "the image of god."
However, I have noticed a very peculiar aspect of Mormon theology (especially of liberal Mormons who tend to accept modern ideas of ethics and fairness).
Any person is accountable for his or her own actions, right? The body, of course, is in under the control of the spirit, somewhere in which consciousness lurks.
However, when a person is a sociopath, or has a disability that affects his or her behavior, these things are clearly linked to certain aspects of the formation and operation of the specific brain in question. The funny thing is, Mormons are totally accepting of this fact, as long as the behavior explained is outside the realm of what is desirable to Mormons.
"You're depressed? Well, that's a trial you've been given, not your fault. Your brain is broke!"
"He killed himself during a manic episode? Well, it wasn't him. It was his malfunctioning brain."
At the same time, anything good is a result of a person's conscious and deliberate decisions, which are made by the true essence of that person, the spirit.
"I am happy because I have chosen to live the gospel of Jesus Christ."
"I just know that the way I feel couldn't be coming from me, it's the spirit."
Would these people be offended if I were to suggest to them that maybe their reactions and feelings were the result of brain chemistry? Would they be mortified that I thought that behaviors like kindness and a sense of justice are solely the result of millions of years of natural selection? I suspect they would!
Then why is it okay for these people to tell me that my depression is a result of my brain chemistry? It isn't part of the "real me." It is part of the transient trials in the life that come with a my body, and will go away when I die. Okay, great. What about my desire to do good in the world? Oh, well that's the real me! I'm a good person because my spiritual essence is good, in spite of my body and brain chemistry!
This can be applied very broadly. The most liberal of truly-believing Mormons will kindly try to tell Homosexuals that they are "broken." They have this trial, but if they just wait, they'll find out that who they really are is not gay, but actually conforms perfectly to every Mormon ideal.
Mormons, therefore, seem to be selectively reductionist. (and that's the nice ones...) They are willing to ascribe things that are undesirable that people "can't help" to neurobiology, but not anything they experience which strengthens or confirms their own faith.
Ultimately, I prefer this view to condemnation without exception. But it still seems to fall short of truly "open-minded," because it discourages introspection in all aspects of a person's behavior. It is blasphemous and demeaning of god to suggest that anything good comes from somewhere other than him, but it is more blasphemous and demeaning of god to suggest that anything bad comes from him. If you believe this, there is no actual way to scrutinize god or his involvement in the world. It is automatic a priori acceptance of a complete worldview, with a clause built right in that these beliefs can never be disproved.
This view supports the concept that human behavior is just psychology, which is just specialized biology, which is just specialized chemistry, which is just specialized physics, which is ultimately knowable through mathematical models only. Thus, human beings and their behavior are nothing more than the interactions of many, many particles based on a few basic rules.
I tend to be reductionist in my thinking. Religious folks, of course, tend to reject the idea of reductionism, because it demotes human beings to somewhat-less than "the image of god."
However, I have noticed a very peculiar aspect of Mormon theology (especially of liberal Mormons who tend to accept modern ideas of ethics and fairness).
Any person is accountable for his or her own actions, right? The body, of course, is in under the control of the spirit, somewhere in which consciousness lurks.
However, when a person is a sociopath, or has a disability that affects his or her behavior, these things are clearly linked to certain aspects of the formation and operation of the specific brain in question. The funny thing is, Mormons are totally accepting of this fact, as long as the behavior explained is outside the realm of what is desirable to Mormons.
"You're depressed? Well, that's a trial you've been given, not your fault. Your brain is broke!"
"He killed himself during a manic episode? Well, it wasn't him. It was his malfunctioning brain."
At the same time, anything good is a result of a person's conscious and deliberate decisions, which are made by the true essence of that person, the spirit.
"I am happy because I have chosen to live the gospel of Jesus Christ."
"I just know that the way I feel couldn't be coming from me, it's the spirit."
Would these people be offended if I were to suggest to them that maybe their reactions and feelings were the result of brain chemistry? Would they be mortified that I thought that behaviors like kindness and a sense of justice are solely the result of millions of years of natural selection? I suspect they would!
Then why is it okay for these people to tell me that my depression is a result of my brain chemistry? It isn't part of the "real me." It is part of the transient trials in the life that come with a my body, and will go away when I die. Okay, great. What about my desire to do good in the world? Oh, well that's the real me! I'm a good person because my spiritual essence is good, in spite of my body and brain chemistry!
This can be applied very broadly. The most liberal of truly-believing Mormons will kindly try to tell Homosexuals that they are "broken." They have this trial, but if they just wait, they'll find out that who they really are is not gay, but actually conforms perfectly to every Mormon ideal.
Mormons, therefore, seem to be selectively reductionist. (and that's the nice ones...) They are willing to ascribe things that are undesirable that people "can't help" to neurobiology, but not anything they experience which strengthens or confirms their own faith.
Ultimately, I prefer this view to condemnation without exception. But it still seems to fall short of truly "open-minded," because it discourages introspection in all aspects of a person's behavior. It is blasphemous and demeaning of god to suggest that anything good comes from somewhere other than him, but it is more blasphemous and demeaning of god to suggest that anything bad comes from him. If you believe this, there is no actual way to scrutinize god or his involvement in the world. It is automatic a priori acceptance of a complete worldview, with a clause built right in that these beliefs can never be disproved.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Making Molehills out of Mountains
I recently had a long conversation with a good friend who is tbm. I talked about my qualms with the LDS faith and with faith in general. His advice to me was to stop sweating the small stuff and have faith in the simplest way, the way a child believes.
More recently, I talked with my mother about a similar subject. She mentioned that she thought that I find fault in things that LDS leaders have said and with specific points of doctrine.
I understand where both of these people are coming from. Not seeing the forest for the trees, I could miss a lot of good things in life if I were to reject anything and everything that did not seem perfect to me.
However, I am not convinced that it is wrong to heavily consider details in this situation. The is absolute truth we're talking about, it's a big deal if one religion happens to be true (making the others all false to various degrees).
So I guess I probably shouldn't attack the church because Brigham Young was misogynistic and racist in his personal opinions... nobody's perfect, but they can still be right about some things even if wrong about others. However, when church doctrine seems unlikely or patently false, I think that this is relevant. And when the so-called prophet speaks to the church, he is supposed to be standing in for god. So I could care less what Ol' Brother Brigham said to friends, family, and acquaintances. However, when he spoke in general conference or wrote things down for the church, that is the stuff that is supposed to be guaranteed. What's the point of a prophet when he could always be "speaking as a man?" (And he always turns out to have been when he said something wrong.)
I countered that the prophet is pointless if you are never sure of the validity of what he's saying. The reply that I got asserted that one does not need to believe the prophet necessarily, that one can receive one's own confirmation of what the prophet has said. I think this is a refreshingly liberal thought from members of a faith that is sometimes frighteningly dogmatic and protective of its leaders.
However, I think that this argument puts the final nail in the coffin of the "necessity of prophets." If we are not to believe anything they say until we go ask ourselves, why not just ask god ourselves in the first place? I mean, the whole "stewardship" thing, where you need a certain calling or priesthood to be able to reveal things for a certain group, is useless if nothing they say is to be trusted anyway.
So if I'm a little upset about what they didn't tell me about the Book of Abraham, is that me throwing the baby out with the bathwater? (frankly, as an atheist, I would never waste a perfectly tasty baby in such a way) I don't think so! The book is fraudulent. The "translation" is fiction. The facsimiles are inaccurately reconstructed and the symbols on them wildly misinterpreted.
And then people try to tell me "Joseph Smith was just a man!" Well, I never doubted the fact, but what happened to "the prophet will never lead the church astray?" The fact that millions of Mormons believe that the Book of Abraham is a direct translation of some papyrus that Smith got from mummies being sold (the tiny little archaeologist inside me cringes) on the American frontier seems to fall within the realm of "astray."
There is a great analog of this from the world of physics. The Michelson-Morley experiment performed in the 19th century failed to confirm what it was designed to confirm: that since the Earth is moving through the fixed "ether" of space, there should be an "ether wind" that makes light travel faster in some directions than others (because the ether is what the waves propagate through). The physics community was puzzled, and kept building bigger and better experiments to try to figure out how they'd missed the ether wind. Then, a bored patent-office clerk named Albert Einstein decided to take this seemingly-small discrepancy out to its weird logical conclusion: that light propagates at the same speed in all directions as observed from any reference frame. Thus the theory of relativity was born, a theory which has repeatedly been confirmed by various experiments, has fundamentally changed our view of the structure and behavior of the universe, and without which GPS navigation devices would be accurate to within tens of miles instead of tens of feet.
Did Einstein err by making a mountain out of what so many regarded as a molehill? If by "err" you mean "make the most important discovery made by the physical sciences in centuries," then yes.
Near the end of the 19th century, Rutherford (the physicist responsible for hiring the grad students who discovered the atomic nucleus) noted that the Physics community had solved nearly every problem about how the world works. He described two little dinky things, two discrepancies that were about all that remained: The Michelson-Morley experiment and the behavior of black-body radiation.
Rutherford is frequently mocked for his assertion that physics was almost "done," but I think he was quite astute. As I've already mentioned, the M-M experiment's results led to the development of the theory of relativity. Black-body radiation is one of the very first things that made certain physicist start noticing that quantities which were assumed to be continuous only came in certain discreet values, an idea that led to the development of quantum mechanics. Thus, 19th-century physical science was completely swept aside by radical, powerful new theories that arose from curious investigation from the last, dinky little discrepancies that seemed to exist in the models of the day. These are not just abstract physics, either. Relativity and quantum mechanics are essential to things from NASA's calculations of spaceship trajectories to the operation of the tiny electronic circuits printed on silicon microchips.
I think that the "put it on the shelf" attitude is misled. Just ignore anything I have qualms about, because ultimately the gospel is something much bigger? Just because lots of parts of it are consistent with each other (which I readily admit... I would have become atheist quicker if I had been of a denomination other than LDS,
I suspect) does not mean that the entire structure is not misled, as was the case of 19th-century science.
Disregarding things like the Book of Abraham and the inconsistency of church doctrine through the years is not a path to truth. It is making molehills out of mountains, keeping the bathwater sitting in the bath forever (yuck) just in case the baby's in there, and missing the ravenous tigers for the forest.
More recently, I talked with my mother about a similar subject. She mentioned that she thought that I find fault in things that LDS leaders have said and with specific points of doctrine.
I understand where both of these people are coming from. Not seeing the forest for the trees, I could miss a lot of good things in life if I were to reject anything and everything that did not seem perfect to me.
However, I am not convinced that it is wrong to heavily consider details in this situation. The is absolute truth we're talking about, it's a big deal if one religion happens to be true (making the others all false to various degrees).
So I guess I probably shouldn't attack the church because Brigham Young was misogynistic and racist in his personal opinions... nobody's perfect, but they can still be right about some things even if wrong about others. However, when church doctrine seems unlikely or patently false, I think that this is relevant. And when the so-called prophet speaks to the church, he is supposed to be standing in for god. So I could care less what Ol' Brother Brigham said to friends, family, and acquaintances. However, when he spoke in general conference or wrote things down for the church, that is the stuff that is supposed to be guaranteed. What's the point of a prophet when he could always be "speaking as a man?" (And he always turns out to have been when he said something wrong.)
I countered that the prophet is pointless if you are never sure of the validity of what he's saying. The reply that I got asserted that one does not need to believe the prophet necessarily, that one can receive one's own confirmation of what the prophet has said. I think this is a refreshingly liberal thought from members of a faith that is sometimes frighteningly dogmatic and protective of its leaders.
However, I think that this argument puts the final nail in the coffin of the "necessity of prophets." If we are not to believe anything they say until we go ask ourselves, why not just ask god ourselves in the first place? I mean, the whole "stewardship" thing, where you need a certain calling or priesthood to be able to reveal things for a certain group, is useless if nothing they say is to be trusted anyway.
So if I'm a little upset about what they didn't tell me about the Book of Abraham, is that me throwing the baby out with the bathwater? (frankly, as an atheist, I would never waste a perfectly tasty baby in such a way) I don't think so! The book is fraudulent. The "translation" is fiction. The facsimiles are inaccurately reconstructed and the symbols on them wildly misinterpreted.
And then people try to tell me "Joseph Smith was just a man!" Well, I never doubted the fact, but what happened to "the prophet will never lead the church astray?" The fact that millions of Mormons believe that the Book of Abraham is a direct translation of some papyrus that Smith got from mummies being sold (the tiny little archaeologist inside me cringes) on the American frontier seems to fall within the realm of "astray."
There is a great analog of this from the world of physics. The Michelson-Morley experiment performed in the 19th century failed to confirm what it was designed to confirm: that since the Earth is moving through the fixed "ether" of space, there should be an "ether wind" that makes light travel faster in some directions than others (because the ether is what the waves propagate through). The physics community was puzzled, and kept building bigger and better experiments to try to figure out how they'd missed the ether wind. Then, a bored patent-office clerk named Albert Einstein decided to take this seemingly-small discrepancy out to its weird logical conclusion: that light propagates at the same speed in all directions as observed from any reference frame. Thus the theory of relativity was born, a theory which has repeatedly been confirmed by various experiments, has fundamentally changed our view of the structure and behavior of the universe, and without which GPS navigation devices would be accurate to within tens of miles instead of tens of feet.
Did Einstein err by making a mountain out of what so many regarded as a molehill? If by "err" you mean "make the most important discovery made by the physical sciences in centuries," then yes.
Near the end of the 19th century, Rutherford (the physicist responsible for hiring the grad students who discovered the atomic nucleus) noted that the Physics community had solved nearly every problem about how the world works. He described two little dinky things, two discrepancies that were about all that remained: The Michelson-Morley experiment and the behavior of black-body radiation.
Rutherford is frequently mocked for his assertion that physics was almost "done," but I think he was quite astute. As I've already mentioned, the M-M experiment's results led to the development of the theory of relativity. Black-body radiation is one of the very first things that made certain physicist start noticing that quantities which were assumed to be continuous only came in certain discreet values, an idea that led to the development of quantum mechanics. Thus, 19th-century physical science was completely swept aside by radical, powerful new theories that arose from curious investigation from the last, dinky little discrepancies that seemed to exist in the models of the day. These are not just abstract physics, either. Relativity and quantum mechanics are essential to things from NASA's calculations of spaceship trajectories to the operation of the tiny electronic circuits printed on silicon microchips.
I think that the "put it on the shelf" attitude is misled. Just ignore anything I have qualms about, because ultimately the gospel is something much bigger? Just because lots of parts of it are consistent with each other (which I readily admit... I would have become atheist quicker if I had been of a denomination other than LDS,
I suspect) does not mean that the entire structure is not misled, as was the case of 19th-century science.
Disregarding things like the Book of Abraham and the inconsistency of church doctrine through the years is not a path to truth. It is making molehills out of mountains, keeping the bathwater sitting in the bath forever (yuck) just in case the baby's in there, and missing the ravenous tigers for the forest.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Email Address
Since I get a reasonable number of hits on this blog, I thought I would create and email address that anyone reading it can use to contact me:
davewithoutgod@gmail.com
I welcome all emails, whether they be condemnation, praise, spam, offers for enlargement pills, or the entire text of the Bible! (that might not fit...)
If you're having doubts about your faith and need someone to talk to, email me. I promise not to try to talk you out of your faith, I just know what it's like to feel like there is no one to listen.
davewithoutgod@gmail.com
I welcome all emails, whether they be condemnation, praise, spam, offers for enlargement pills, or the entire text of the Bible! (that might not fit...)
If you're having doubts about your faith and need someone to talk to, email me. I promise not to try to talk you out of your faith, I just know what it's like to feel like there is no one to listen.
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