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Just to make this immediately clear: I am an atheist. I have revised nothing in terms of what I think regarding the existence of a supreme being. And because I consider the current evidence overwhelmingly against the existence of such a being, I do not accept theists’ rational explanations behind it, either. However, I have lately revised my approach to religion in terms of theists’ irrational acceptance.

Much more importantly, in my somewhat revised approach to religion I now place significant weight on such acceptance being a conscious choice.

I will explain all this in more detail in this post – I believe there is merit in establishing such contact lines for the benefit of society – but here’s the general gist: I don’t believe in a supreme being, and – with existing evidence – there’s nothing anyone can do to convince me. More still, if they believe from a rational perspective (“God made humans because how else, intelligent design, blah blah”), I’m entirely unimpressed.

However, if they say “I fully understand science is on the right track, a God doesn’t make sense, but I choose to believe anyway”, then they at least have my sympathy (even empathy, in this flawed life), and we can communicate.

The Methodology of (Dis)belief

Before I talk about my new approach to religion – a new theorization, if you like – it’s useful to establish some basics. I’ve talked much more about this in my posts on agnosticism and the burden of proof.

Basically, the problem regarding the existence of God/pink unicorns/a teapot orbiting Jupiter is that it’s nearly impossible to prove nonexistenceThe only way I can think of is proving the impossibility of a constituent. For example, if one hypothesizes the existence of a pink unicorn travelling faster than light, we can prove its nonexistence based on the fact that matter cannot travel faster than light. But take that part away, and I cannot prove there aren’t pink unicorns travelling at the speed of sound in some galaxy far far away…, whereas it’s much easier – methodologically, that is – to prove existence.

In other words, I can’t prove there isn’t a teapot orbiting Jupiter. But since there is no evidence whatsoever that there is, I choose to disregard the hypothesis because we need to draw the line somewhere. Conversely, a single observation (assuming it’s reliable) of a teapot is enough to prove existence.

A Revised Approach to Religion: Rationality vs Irrationality

Quite often I see a not-even-wrong question posed, often (but not always) with the best intentions: “Who’s right, science or religion?” In reality, this question is pointless. It’s a bit like asking “What’s best for thirst, green or metal?”

Science and religion, in their purest form, occupy entirely different domains.

Science is a method of establishing facts about physical reality. What are those spots of light in the sky at night? How did life emerge on Earth? Why is the sky blue?

Religion, on the other hand, though it has historically attempted to explain physical reality (and for millennia succeeded, albeit by fiat), is essentially an ideologically dogmatized form of philosophy. That is to say, religion attempts to fill in gaps in meaning and purpose.

Expectations

If I’m thirsty, I drink water (or juice). I don’t drink “green” or “metal”. And so, if I want to know why – to the best of our knowledge – nothing travels faster than light, I read a physics book; not a religious one. Similarly, if I want to speculate on the possible meaning or purpose of life, I read a religious philosophy book, not one on astronomy.

In my revised approach to religion as a social and psychological phenomenon, I consider religion a tool that can be of use to some people (certainly not to me), but only insofar it’s used appropriately.

And, I’d argue, religion can be of use if it’s used irrationally and, most importantly, if the “user” is fully aware of this irrationality.

The Paradox of Irrational Belief

In a sense, it’s a meta- phenomenon: You’re aware that it’s irrational, and your very awareness of its irrationality (perhaps paradoxically) makes your belief “rational” in the sense that it’s useful!

It’s a bit like Santa: The adults don’t believe in Santa, the (older) kids kind of know there’s no Santa, but everyone involved keeps playing alone, which is what makes the whole thing work.

Or, to use Punning Walrus once again:

A Revised Approach to Religion: As Society, What’s Next?

Let’s be clear about one thing. I don’t care if people choose to believe in the existence of a supreme being, Santa, or Donald Duck, and I mean that positively.

In other words, it’s none of my business what a person chooses to believe. Policing thought is not something I’m interested in.

At the same time – and precisely because of the above – I’m militantly against any attempt at conversion, coercion, persuasion (take your pick). Needless to say, I’m also vehemently against setting up societies and influencing rational thought based on personal beliefs.

To quote the 5th fundamental tenet of The Satanic Temple, “Beliefs should conform to one’s best scientific understanding of the world. One should take care never to distort scientific facts to fit one’s beliefs.”

It Goes Both Ways

And yet, as I’ve realized in my new approach to religion, there are steps we need to take from both sides of the equation. Just as I ask people to leave religion away from facts (no, the world wasn’t made in 7 days because a collectively written text says so), I could try to understand why people irrationally choose to believe in something they have no evidence for.

People develop different coping mechanisms when dealing with unpleasant stuff. Some want to be with others, others want to be alone. Sometimes we eat not because we’re hungry but because we’re stressed.

And for some/many/most of us, existential dread pushes us to come up with ad-hoc “super heroes”.

It’s not a strategy I can follow; I want the best truth available, not a self-imposed delusion. If I can’t reach the truth, I’m fine with unknowability – there’s meaning in not having the answers.

Yet I have come to realize that others don’t need to follow my strategy. If theirs is to willingly believe in something despite – indeed, in some sense even because of – the lack of credible evidence, that’s their choice. As long as they don’t mold society on it or try to convince me of it – and especially if they’re aware of the dynamics involved – then we can coexist.