Good Reason

It's okay to be wrong. It's not okay to stay wrong.

Month: August 2008 (page 1 of 2)

It’s not easy being crucified…

From the world of art:

An Italian museum on Thursday defied Pope Benedict and refused to remove a modern art sculpture portraying a crucified green frog holding a beer mug and an egg that the Vatican had condemned as blasphemous.

The board of the Museion museum in the northern city of Bolzano decided by a majority vote that the frog was a work of art and would stay in place for the remainder of an exhibition.

Great news. Now can we please use these skills the next time there’s a work of art that offends Muslims?

The Vatican wrote a letter of support in the pope’s name to Franz Pahl, president of the regional government who opposed the sculpture. Pahl released parts of the letter, which said the work “wounds the religious sentiments of so many people who see in the cross the symbol of God’s love“.

In other words, he thinks his ideas are so important that everyone else should tiptoe around them to save his feelings.

Then he holds his breath and turns blue.

Pahl, whose province is heavily Catholic, was so outraged by the sculpture of the pop-eyed amphibian that he went on a hunger strike to demand its removal and had to be taken to hospital during the summer.

I hope he’s okay now. At least he only tried to harm himself rather than others, so props for that. But he (and everyone) needs to realise that it’s not okay for his ideas (or mine, or anyone’s) to be exempted from satire, scrutiny, or even criticism and mockery.

“Art must always be free and the artist should not have any restrictions on freedom of expression,” Claudio Strinati, a superintendent for Rome’s state museums, told an Italian newspaper on Thursday.

Most encouraging.

How to get your Mom to vote for Obama

How can you tell that a candidate represents generational change? Your mom might vote for him.

Mom has voted Republican for years and years. She hails from Utah, the reddest state in the Union. I mean no disrespect when I say she’s a low-information voter. Back in June she was among the 17% who still thought Obama was a Muslim. But she cares about things, and wants the best for the country.

She watched the Democratic convention, and came to me perturbed.

“What do you think of Whatsisname?” she asked, sounding a little worried. It was as if she thought President Obama was a foregone conclusion, and she wanted to be reassured that everything would be all right afterward.

“Obama?” I asked.

“That’s the one,” she said.

To borrow a Mormon metaphor, it was an opportunity for a gospel conversation. But you only have one sentence to get a point across. So I tried these general points.

Point 1: Be sane. No frothing with enthusiasm.

“Well, I think he’d do a very good job,” I said carelessly. “He seems like a sensible person with some really good ideas.

Point 2: McCain is like Bush.

“I think if the other fellow gets to be president, it’d be like four more years of Bush, and I’m not anxious to see that happen.

Point 3: Iraq

“Plus, the other guy has said he doesn’t mind if we stay Iraq for a hundred years.”

Mom didn’t like the sound of that. “What else?”

Point 4: Energy

“Oh, I think he’s got some good ideas about energy. Obama wants to do more with wind and solar, but McCain just wants to drill more, which — I don’t know — oil’s important, but it’s not the most forward-thinking policy, you know?”

“Yes. Well, that’s good to hear,” Mom said. And then, suprisingly, “I think I might vote for him.”

“Sounds good,” I said.

Point 5: Crossover helps Democrats this time

“It doesn’t really matter if someone’s a Republican or a Democrat,” she said.

“We’re all Americans,” I said.

If my mom and other people of her demographic are even considering a vote for Obama, we’re talking about a cleanup of historic proportions.

Pants

No one around here knows what it means if you say something is ‘pants’.

‘The ant’s pants’ is a good thing. Same for ‘the cat’s pajamas’. But if something’s ‘pants’, that means it sucks.

A man who chose “Lloyds is pants” as his telephone banking password said he found it had been changed by a member of staff to “no it’s not”.

Rather curious that staff members can have access to your passwords and change them capriciously. But I’m more curious about the pants. It would appear to be a UK English item. Anyone know of its origins? I’d love to get into it, but I have thesis work, so for now it’s going under deriv. uncert.

Update: Alarik from comments has fixed my mistake: it’s ‘pants’, not ‘the pants’. I always seem to get my articles wrong on idioms. For a while, I thought someone took a piss out of someone, when in fact they’re taking the piss. WAF.

Zing!

Still laughing over this snippet from a Dawkins talkback radio session yesterday.

Dawkins and the radio host talk about what it would have been like to meet Darwin, and the host asks:

Dawkins doesn’t miss a beat.

Is your writing male or female?

There are lots of things in CompLing that I wish I’d thought of. Here’s one: the Gender Genie.

Just paste in some text (perhaps even a blog post from your humble Good Reason host), hit frappé, and it’ll give a guess as to the sex of the author.

I come up as male, as does PZ Myers, and (somewhat interestingly) Andrew Sullivan and TRex from Firedoglake. (Well, I had to check.) The wonderful Digby, had she not outed herself as female, would have been sniffed out by the Genie. Ann from feministing.com comes up male more than once. Walcott‘s running 50-50.

It works much differently than one might expect. It ignores all the manly or non-manly words like ‘explosion’ or ‘needlepoint’, and instead uses a very small set of function words. Each time you use ‘with’, that’s 52 points on the female side. Each use of ‘around’ gives you 42 male points. Women get pronouns: she, me, hers, we. Men get all the determiners: the, a, some, more. Add them up and see which side of the scale is heavier.

I don’t know what we can generalise from this about male/female communication, but it’s very cool.

Biden veep pick

So Obama has chosen Joe Biden as his running mate. Everyone go ahead and add him to your spell check dictionary. I’ll wait.

I didn’t know a lot about Biden, so I headed over to (where else) the Wikipedia page about his political positions. He seems sensible enough in most ways. He’ll probably make a good Vice President.

But here’s what occurs to me. Yes, the bolus of infection that is the American Republican Party will explode in an ugly geyser of pus come November. We’ll probably never be rid of it entirely, but it is struggling, and its influence will be greatly diminished in the next election cycle. Even so, the goals of movement conservatism have largely been met. We can understand the effects of a movement by what it leaves behind when it inevitably dies, and movement conservatism has pushed things really far to the right. You can now support abstinence education, Israel, a same-sex marriage ban, and building a wall on the Mexican border, and still be thought of as a reasonably moderate liberal.

Don’t get me wrong — I like his positives, which are many. But remember the lesson of the Overton Window: extremists in a movement defend the indefensible, and thus make the unthinkable thinkable. It’s worked. Some of Biden’s views are out there. Like crazy grandpa out there. Just sayin’.

Shermer lecture: How do we influence others?

Michael Shermer gave an engaging lecture Wednesday night at UWA’s Octagon Theatre. Since it was Science Week, he spoke on the scientific method, and the need for skepticism in evaluating ideas.

And I got to ask him a question. I mentioned in this post that I think he’s backed the wrong horse on the science v. religion question. In ‘Why Darwin Matters’, he seemed to lean toward the ‘Non-Overlapping Magesteria Argument’ — that science is science and spirituality is spirituality, and science can’t examine spirituality. Besides the gaping holes in the argument, it’s just an unscientific view. How can you falsify it?

But I didn’t want to fight over that — I’m sure he knows the terrain. No, I was more curious about the strategy of it all. Here was my question:

Me: I’ve enjoyed reading “Why Darwin Matters.” You give three possibilities for the relationship between science and religion. One is the Conflicting Worlds model, the Same Worlds model, and the Shared Worlds. You seem to reject the idea that science is right and religion is wrong, as an extremist position. Instead you seem to say that God is somehow outside of science.

I was wondering if that’s really your view, (audience laughter) or is this some kind of tactic that we use to lull the religious to sleep so that the grown-ups can do their work?

Shermer: A sop (unintelligible), yes. No, I do think it’s important to strategise how to interact with other people. And if you tell somebody that their most cherished beliefs are bullshit, (bright tone) and now let’s go to the ball game and have fun together! (audience laughter) You know, that isn’t probably the best way to win friends and influence people. It’s always good to try to be polite and respectful and whatever — you’re more likely to change their minds. That’s isn’t necessarily why I do it; that’s the way I am.

But the argument I make is that — that’s why I went through that whole business of aliens and Shermer’s Last Law and all that stuff. You can’t possibly find a god. Most people think of god as this supernatural being, that isn’t just some garage tinkerer, that isn’t just a genetic engineer who’s really good at it. That somehow that isn’t going to fulfill what people think when they think about god. So I really don’t… I can’t possibly imagine any experiment that any scientist could ever run and go, “Oh, look! There is a god! Wow!” Or “Nope! There isn’t, ’cause look. Failed the experiment.” Something like that. I just don’t think you could do that.

Now Dawkins makes an interesting argument in ‘The God Delusion’ about probabilities, that, you know, on a range… a scale of one to seven, what’s the likelihood? No, we can’t say for sure that there isn’t a god, but there probably isn’t. That’s a reasonable argument. But there you’re not using science directly to test the godly probabilities. It’s something slightly different than that.

Did he answer my question?

In a way, kind of. I was left with the feeling like he’s just being nice and giving religious folk on the edges a way to accept Darwin and science. Off the point, he argues that you can’t falsify the supernatural, to which I readily agree.

But this touches on what should be a major issue among atheists: How do you change people’s minds? Shermer’s right: confronting people directly about their beliefs won’t change their minds. You know what else doesn’t change people’s minds? Not confronting them directly about their beliefs. Thinking back to my days as a believer, if you’d said that I could keep my beliefs, that they were perfectly good, but that science is good too, I’ll guarantee you I’d have left the discussion thinking exactly what I was thinking before.

So what does change people’s minds? Well, in many cases, nothing. If people really want to believe in ghosts or UFO’s or Reiki, no evidence will shift ’em. But there are a certain number of smart people who are in a belief system, and eventually they’ll notice the contradictions and feel enough cognitive dissonance to reach escape velocity. For these people, we need to foster a climate where science and evidence are regarded as authoritative and where disbelief is supported (intellectually and socially), until they’re ready to make the jump. Shermer’s certainly doing his part in this by giving lectures about science and scepticism, with intelligence and good humour. I’m doing my part in this by pointing out firmly (and repeatedly) that no evidence exists for the supernatural, and inviting people to show me some. I don’t sugar-coat my point of view, but I don’t think that’ll turn anyone off; the deeply committed won’t listen anyway. And I think it’s important to be direct with people.

Education is one way of promoting good views. Ridicule is one way of discouraging bad views. I do both. If you can’t manage it, you’re only using half the tools at your disposal. But do what you’re comfortable with. I’ll be over here holding the Overton Window on my end. Go ahead and slag me off and call me a militant atheist and an extremist, so you can look moderate by comparison. That’s absolutely part of the strategy. I don’t mind; I’ll take it for the team.

Just please remember that the forces of anti-science are not content to just believe what they believe. They want to influence what everyone believes. Religions constantly expend a great deal of energy in proselyting. They send missionaries around the world, they build publishing factories, and they go about promoting their memes in an organised way. So let’s not kid ourselves that they just want to play softball.

The MWF works through market forces.

You may have heard of Rocky Twyman, the guy who’s behind “Pray at the Pump”. Since April, they’ve been asking a supernatural being to lower gas prices. And holy Regression Fallacy! it seems to be working.

A prayer group in Washington DC is claiming the credit for the recent sharp drop in the US price of petrol.

Rocky Twyman, 59, a veteran community campaigner, started Pray At The Pump meetings at petrol stations in April.

Since then, the average price of what the US calls gasoline has fallen from more than $4 a gallon to $3.80.

“We don’t have anybody else to turn to but God,” Mr Twyman told the BBC. “We have to turn these problems over to God and not to man.”

God, schmod. Isn’t it obvious who’s behind the recent drop in petrol prices? Not supernatural beings or market forces. It’s… the Magical Wishing Ferret!

Meep!

Now it’s true that no one’s been asking the Magical Wishing Ferret for his help. But that’s what makes him so great. He knows what you need, and gives it to you before you ask.

That other ‘god’ makes you go through all kinds of contortions before he’ll do anything. Sometimes you literally have to starve yourself just to get his attention, the sadist.

None of that crap for the MWF. He’s good about getting you what you want, although he needs you do the work for the sake of your character. He doesn’t require any faith (just occasional chocolate), and he’s much more deserving of admiration than other gods I could mention. And you certainly don’t have to hang out at petrol stations shouting at the sky to curry his favour.

I’m also a Eucharist abuse sympathiser.

Man! Some bloggers have all the luck. Towleroad, who I’ve never heard of, has been targeted by closet case Bill Donahue of the so-called Catholic League. He wants the Democrats to drop Towleroad and Bitch Ph.D from the list of media bloggers for the DNC convention, or else he’ll hold his breath and turn blue. How cool would that be to nettle Donahue to that extent? And how can I get on Bill’s big bad list?

You know, I think I’ve got the Catholic League figured out. It’s just Bill Donahue. There’s no one else there. And the Catholic League website is just his blog. But instead of making blog posts and leaving it at that, he sends his blog posts to the media, and calls it a press release!

I’m going to start calling myself the “Good Reason League”. My first press release:

“I advocate contraception.”

There. That ought to get Bill’s attention.

Atheist and agnostic — might you be both?

What’s the difference between an atheist and an agnostic?

One of my atheist friends recently surprised me by describing himself as a Buddhist. I tried not to do a double-take, reminding myself that is possible to distinguish ‘Buddhism the Religion’ from ‘Buddhism the Philosophy’ or ‘Buddhism the Set of Interesting Practices’. Still, it seemed incongruous.

And then there’s my other friend who describes himself as an ‘agnostic’, but doesn’t really disagree with me, the atheist, on any major points. He just seems reluctant to define himself as an atheist.

Deciding what a word ‘means’ can be a tricky proposition, especially on this issue when self-identification comes into it. People are defining ‘atheist’ and ‘agnostic’ by the beliefs of people they know who identify as atheists and agnostics (perhaps even themselves). I’ve met enough meat-eating vegetarians to know that this isn’t the most reliable kind of definition. Then some helpful soul comes running into the discussion with a dictionary, telling us about word parts, and insisting that the etymology of a word is its ‘true meaning’. Which is nonsense, because word meanings change over time, and words mean what speakers think they mean. (Except when the speakers are wrong because they disagree with us more knowledgeable folk.)

Word-watcher that I am, I’d normally observe the debate and not influence it. But as an atheist, it’s a different story. I’ve noticed that the popular definition of these terms is often at variance with what atheists and agnostics actually think, and that ought to count for something. So in this post, I’d like to discuss the definitions of a*ism, and see if we can describe them more accurately in terms of what people (a*ists and not) mean by these terms.

As a English-speaking youth, before I’d thought about this area very much, I absorbed these definitions:

atheist: someone who knows (believes very strongly, is absolutely certain that) there’s no god
agnostic: someone who doesn’t know if there’s a god or not

That is, the difference (I thought) was one of degree of certainty.

At the time, it didn’t seem to me that this ‘atheist position’ was very tenable. How could you be certain that something didn’t exist? You’d have to have a knowledge of everything that existed to know that something wasn’t on the list. Which, ironically, would make you God, or something close.

Well, imagine my surprise to find that no atheist I talked to held that point of view. No atheist I’ve met on- or off-line has professed absolute certainty that god does not exist, though there are some ‘strong atheists’ out there. Instead, atheists I have met reject gods because there’s no evidence for them, and many have expressed willingness to change their minds if evidence turns up.

So if certainty is not the defining characteristic of an atheist, what is? Simply: belief. Atheists believe there are no gods. Here comes the etymology: a, ‘without’ + theos, ‘god’. Someone who is without a god.

Now for agnostic. Etymology: a, ‘not’ + gnosos, ‘knowledge’, or ‘one who doesn’t know’.

A browse of various dictionaries suggests that agnosticism is less about intensity of belief and more of a philosophical stance involving the knowability of god, usually expressed by these two ideas:

1) An agnostic doesn’t know whether gods exist
2) An agnostic thinks the whole question isn’t really knowable

I find both of these ideas perfectly reasonable — to a point. Can we know if a god really exists, if that god hides from people and is perfectly good at covering her tracks? No, any more than we can know about UFO’s or invisible pink unicorns. Where I differ from agnostics is what to do about it. With no supporting evidence, I just assume it’s all bogus, but I’ll re-examine if need be. The agnostic reserves judgement, as though the two possibilities are equiprobable, and that’s simply not justified by the data we have.

What I get from these definitions is that atheism and agnosticism are not mutually exclusive categories. They’re describing two different things. Here are, I think, more accurate descriptions:

agnostic: Someone who recognises that the ‘existence of gods’ issue can’t be proven either way with the evidence we have. Agnosticism tells more about what you know about the ontological issues surrounding supernatural beings.
atheist: Someone who doesn’t believe that gods exist. Whether you’re an atheist or not has more to do with what your conclusion, yes or no, given all of the uncertainty surrounding the issue.

That explains why my self-described agnostic friend and I agree on the issues. He doesn’t know if gods exist, and to be perfectly honest, I don’t know either, I just don’t find the evidence compelling. So in that sense, my friend and I are both agnostic. And neither of us really thinks that gods exist, though we’re open to evidence. So in that sense we’re both atheists. I’m just more willing to call myself an atheist than he is.

We could plot individuals on a graph:


Quadrant 1 is me, the non-believer who nonetheless says you can’t be absolutely certain either way. Quadrant 2 is the believing agnostic, also known as ‘the bet-hedger’. (If I were a god, I would send them to hell for believing in me in such a gain-driven and cowardly way.) Quadrant 3 is the believer, and in quadrant 4 we could perhaps find the ‘strong atheist’.

These definitions are pretty close to what people already think the terms mean. Defining them this way emphasises certain aspects of a*ism in a way that helps to explain the variation in belief that we see, and gets rid of a lot of overlap between the terms.

People will still define atheism and agnosticism variously, but there are signs that this view I have presented has some acceptance. I was somewhat startled at this site, devoted to sorting out frequently confused words. The entry for ‘atheist’ reads:

atheist: one who assumes there are no gods or divinities but will accept the possibility should extraordinary evidence occur
agnostic: one who believes the existence of God cannot be proved or disproved

I fully approve.

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