Atheists
The Puddle: An Elegant but Not-Perfect Analogy
When it comes to criticizing the fine-tuning argument, Douglas Adam’s puddle analogy takes the cake.
Adams first unveiled this analogy at a 1998 lecture at Digital Biota.
Since then it’s become the darling of the scientific community.
Richard Dawkins quoted it during an eulogy for Adams.
P Z Meyers been known to toss it around.
And occassionally skeptics and atheists will trot it out here on this blog.
Case in point: During an interview with an atheist named Billy, I asked, “What do you think of the fine-tuning argument?”
Billy gave a thoughtful, but rather unforgettable answer to my question, especially since someone else chimed in with this piece of snarky brevity: “Nonsense. Google Douglas Adams ‘puddle argument.”
That caught my attention because he seemed to imply Adam’s “puddle argument” was a show stopper.
I have to admit: I was spellbound.
What Is the Puddle Analogy?
Unfortunately, it took me about seven months to actually get around to looking up this “puddle argument.”
But I finally did.
In fact, I not only read the analogy, but I also watched a Dawkin’s video, read Adam’s original transcript in which the analogy was embedded…and even skimmed an objection.
But I didn’t get it. I was at a loss to what he meant by “non-sense.” And how exactly was this a show stopper?
Adams analogy is emotionally compelling [which I'll explain in a minute], no doubt. But not sure what it proves. Or why it’s so convincing.
Are people putting more weight on it than it can hold? That was my hunch. So I decided to find out.
Asking More Questions about the Puddle Analogy
The following day I emailed the original poster and let him know I finally did what he told me to do but wasn’t sure what he was getting at. I asked him if he could clarify. Here’s his response:
I think it quite accurately exposes the foolishness of the fine-tuning argument without any appeal to emotion in the same way as Russell’s teapot or the FSM expose the flaws of other religious arguments.
Okay. But how? He replied:
By showing that fitting an environment well is no reason to think you were designed for it, it designed for you, or that both were designed with each other in mind. The analogy of the puddle shows that quite well since clearly holes aren’t intelligently designed for puddles, regardless of what a puddle might like to think.
Okay. That makes sense. It illustrates that well. But how does it prove anything? I didn’t think that was the job of a parable. In truth, it’s not.
The Purpose of a Parable
What is a parable? A parable is nothing more than a short tale illustrating a moral lesson or some truth.
Think Paley’s Watchmaker or Jesus’ Prodigal Son or Aesop’s Fables.
But the parable themselves are not truth. They illustrate some truth you already hold. In other words, parables and analogies are built on presuppositions…
You are assuming something is already true. All you are doing with a parable is helping somebody understand that presupposition.
Let me give you an example.
An Example of a Biblical Parable
In the Prodigal Son parable the loving response of the human father to the son who returns after a period of wasteful living is an allegory of the love of God for the repentant sinner.
Our presupposition is that God exists.
In Adams’ puddle analogy, our presupposition is that the universe isn’t designed for life.
In both cases, we need to prove our presuppositions. A parable doesn’t do that on it’s own. And that’s what I mean when I say a parable can’t carry the weight of an argument but is instead an emotionally satisfying story that demonstrates something we already believe.
Another Problem with Parables
Furthermore, just like Paley’s Watchmaker analogy, Adams’ puddle argument makes arbitrary designations.
Why a puddle in a hole? Why not a blue jay finding another bird’s nest? Or a billiard ball falling into a pool pocket?
The variations are infinite.
Bottom line, I sincerely don’t think Adam’s intended his analogy to be adopted as a proof.
He’s smarter than that.
He intended it to be a moral lesson. He said as much when he concluded his analogy: “I think this may be something we need to be on the watch out for.”
Indeed, the world gives us mixed messages. And we often see what we want to see. This applies for both theist and atheist.
So I couldn’t agree more with Adams’ warning. But what do you think? Did I miss something? I’d like to develop this thought further.
A. N. Wilson: An Atheist’s Slow Return to Religion
A. N. Wilson’s conversion might be old news–but it’s profoundly emblematic of ex-atheists.
That means it’s useful to us here at Fallen and Flawed.
Let me show you what I mean.
Brief History of Wilson’s Conversion to Atheism
In April of 2009, this 59-year-old English writer rediscovered his faith.
A faith he formerly denounced in his late 30s.
Legend has it that Christopher Hitchens–during dinner with Wilson–probed the writer:
“So – absolutely no God?”
“Nope,” I was able to say.
“No future life, nothing ‘out there’?”
“No,” I obediently replied.
And that creedless catechism sealed it. Wilson could officially declare: “At last! No more silly talk about the incarnation. Jesus’ resurrection. The afterlife.”
He was done with that load of baloney. That nonsense.
But there was just one thing. He couldn’t shake the sense that there was more to life than just material.
There’s More to Religion Than Argument
Skeptical to the core, Wilson even struggled with his non-belief. And when he did–just like a devout saint cracking open the New Testament–he brought down his copy of David Hume’s Dialogues Concerning Natural Religion.
But even the monarch of anti-supernaturalism and his literature couldn’t keep the doubts at bay.
What Wilson found was that after the novelty of his dramatic abandonment of faith wore off, he felt bleak and muddled more than ever. Religion wasn’t about argument alone. Religion embraced the whole person. Body and soul.
Further Doubts Rise
Then there’s language. Darwinian materialists suggest that language evolved. Yet, Wilson asks:
Where’s the evidence? How could it come about that human beings all agreed that particular grunts carried particular connotations? How could it have come about that groups of anthropoid apes developed the amazing morphological complexity of a single sentence, let alone the whole grammatical mystery which has engaged Chomsky and others in our lifetime and linguists for time out of mind?
At the bottom of Wilson’s critique is this: Materialism can not adequately explain our complex world. Christianity, on the other hand, as a working blueprint for life, can.
Tell this to an atheist and you’ll get a blank stare. Or a sweeping, scaled-down explanation that demonstrates one thing: They don’t understand what they’re talking about.
Bold assertion. But hear me out.
What Makes *Truly* Useful Parenting Advice
Long ago I didn’t have children. Yet, I freely gave parents child-rearing advice. Turns out, bad advice. The advice I shared pre-children amounted to a vigorous lack of understanding. A wholesale existential bankruptcy when it came to raising children.
Now that I do have children, I actually understand what it means to struggle with discipline or irregular infant sleep patterns.
What was the difference? I’ve looked a sobbing 5-year-old girl in the face and told her she couldn’t ride her bike. I’ve sat beside an infant soothing his restlessness well past midnight.
The Issue That Put a Tin Hat on Atheistic Ambitions
Interestingly enough, the issue at stake here was the same issue that ate at a unbelieving C. S. Lewis. That issue is nothing more than morality.
Wilson’s acute crisis with non-faith happened while he was writing a book about Nazi Germany. At some time while writing he realized “how utterly incoherent were Hitler’s neo-Darwinian ravings, and how potent was the opposition, much of it from Christians; paid for, not with clear intellectual victory, but in blood.”
Injustice simply didn’t make sense in a creedless society and ethics as a human construct was absurd.
Final [Somewhat Interesting] Thoughts
A. N. Wilson, at one time, was one of my favorite fiction writers. Books that topped my list were his biography on the apostle Paul and Jesus.
However, it was God’s Funeral that always most stuck out to me, a book that proclaimed the decline of faith in the western civilisation. In fact, Wilson went so far to say towards the end of the book that at the end of the 20th Century we were witnessing a robust decline in professions to the Christian faith.
Not surprising.
What was surprising to Wilson, on the other hand, was that in the face of ferocious persecution, compelling objections and disruption within the ranks, it persisted.
“It” being God. The very Being, in the end, Wilson couldn’t escape.
An Open Letter to Skeptics
Dear Skeptic,
I apologize for not writing sooner, but I wanted this to be a meaningful response. Not one kicked out in an hour.
See, you level–like many others before you–a serious accusation at Christians that’s worth a deliberate, thoughtful reply.
A reply that evaluates every inch of your accusation…addresses the perception behind this accusation…and then corrects it.
Why Am I Doing This?
I think it may help you understand us a little better, because we’re all here to understand each other, right?
Well, let’s see how I do.
First, the Accusation
What is the accusation I’m talking about? Nothing more than we Christians like to change the subject on you.
Now, I confess: We do. At least I do. And I’ll tell you why in a minute. But right now I want to explore something else…
I want to unpack your perception of why you believe we change the subject. Tell me if I get it right.
See, you accuse Christians of changing the subject and suggest the reason why is that we can’t answer your objections.
Perhaps this is true in some circumstances. But let me suggest another option:
We change subjects because it’s pointless.
At some point in our discussion–and I’ve seen these struggles between believers and skeptics long enough to know when it’s happening–we have to draw the line and say this person isn’t open to an earnest conversation.
He isn’t interested in my beliefs…he’s looking for a fight.
Or he’s looking to get his kicks from making Christians stumble. Or maybe he’s simply looking for a platform to display his arrangement of arguments and sophisticated intelligence. In the end, he’s just looking to snub and ridicule another person’s beliefs.
How Do I Know Your Motivation?
It’s easy to see. So often you’re asking the right questions. Questions like, “Is there eternal life? Did Jesus rise from the dead? What do I need to do to be saved?”
But unfortunately, you’re not looking to understand our position. You’re looking for a soft spot. And when you think you find that soft spot–you punch it…
You demand we give you a systematic explanation that satisfies you. We explain, you find another soft spot–and punch that one. Ad infinitum.
The sad thing is you’ve already answered those questions for yourself–in the negative, which is fine–but now you demand Christians intellectually gratify you.
Sorry. But we’re not obligated to do that.
This Is All We’re Obligated to Do
All we’re obligated to do is deliver a clear, graceful articulation of the gospel of Jesus Christ. To warn you of the consequences of rejecting that gospel. And to alert you to the danger of bowing down to men like Einstein, Aristotle or Plato.
Men who scientifically, logically and philosophically can walk circles around most Christians like me. But men who are morally inferior to the conquering Messiah.
The conquering Messiah who existed before time. Who walked on the earth. Who died. And who rose from the dead [Warning: PDF].
Indeed, I wish I had the stamina and intellectual resources to answer your every objection. But thank God, I’m not obligated to do that.
I do try to evaluate each discussion. Answer honest objections. Discern the the sincerity of each question: Are they seeking? Or are they looking for a fight?
If it’s the latter, then it’s pointless to argue. It’s pointless because you are dead to the truth. Blind to reason. And doomed to stumble in intellectual darkness.
And it’s only the gospel that will pry your eyes open.
If you accuse me of being insane, irrational or simply naive, so be it. I glory in that accusation…in that association with the risen Christ.
Why I Change Subjects on You
Furthermore, when I change the subject on you, it doesn’t mean I can’t answer the question. More than likely it just means the subject you want to fight over is peripheral. And I won’t squander emotional equity on peripheral arguments.
Yet the subject I want to shift the conversation to–the wrath of God appeased on the cross of Christ–is the real issue.
And the issue I’m willing to die for.
It’s like fighting over the color of the seats while the plane is going down in flames. Let’s land this wreckage first then squabble over what remains. [Forgive me. I'm terribly pragmatic.]
I Won’t Neglect This to Satisfy You
Listen: I do have a biblical obligation to give a defense of my faith. To explain why I believe what I believe. Especially to those who come in a posture of humility–whether fans or opponents of the faith.
But I’m not obligated to gratify antagonistic, self-righteous opponents of the Cross. Christ didn’t. And I won’t.
Neither am I required to appease your moral shock or intellectual grievance over my beliefs. This is simply part of the territory. The Bible plainly states:
Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offense [1]…but we preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and folly to Gentiles [2].
If I do try to fight…if I do try to answer your every objection…we will go around in circles. And I’ll neglect the most precious, joyful privilege I’ll ever have: Confessing Christ and explaining the law of the cross.
Understand, I’m horribly self-conscious about this letter. That I missed an angle. Or flubbed a point. But I hope at least I’ve edged our understanding of each other an inch in the right direction.
If not more.
I’m confident you’ll let me know if I did. Or didn’t. That being the nature of this type of communication. Looking forward to hearing from you.
Sincerely,
Demian Farnworth
P.S. Please, share your thoughts. Brutal and all.
10 Questions with an Atheist: John Loftus
**Part of the 10 Questions with an Atheist series.**
John Loftus was a philosophy instructor at a secular college when he decided to walk away from Christianity.
It wasn’t easy.
The only thing Loftus had known since he was 18 was learning, teaching and defending Christianity.
During that time he had chased several divinity degrees and a PhD. Launched an apologetic journal. Sat under William Lane Craig. Even served as Senior Minister at Angola Christian Church in Indiana from 1987 to 1990.
But in the space of five years–1991 to 1996–Loftus endured a major crisis, crawled through boxes of new information and searched for the caring, loving Christian community that just wasn’t there.
It was these events that convinced him to reject Christianity. This is his story.
1. How would you describe yourself: atheist, agnostic or skeptic? Explain.
Thanks for wanting to learn from me. I appreciate this and would hope other Christians would follow your example rather than just blasting people like me.
Let me state for the record that I consider myself first and foremost a freethinker who especially approaches all religious claims with skepticism. All such claims are extraordinary and so they require a lot of evidence before I will believe them, just like evangelicals do with Catholic claims of miracles at Lourdes.
Skepticism is not a belief system. It’s an approach to truth claims, a reasonable one at that. Skepticism is founded squarely on the science of human nature, psychology, and the science of culture, anthropology, for starters.
We human beings are woefully illogical and gullible and trusting. We adopt the beliefs of the culture within which we were raised. We don’t understand things very well. What we believe we prefer to believe. We don’t see things correctly. What we see is filtered by what culture we were raised in.
We won’t even seriously consider we were led to believe something that is false. In fact, we may be personally offended and think anyone who disagrees is ignorant or stupid. That’s how entrenched some cultural beliefs can be. To see this argued for I recommend Jason Long’s book, the Religious Condition. See my review.
Based on these scientific studies we should be skeptical about what we believe. We should be skeptical about that which we were taught to believe. We should test claims and see if they have independent corroboration through science.
If after approaching a truth claim with skepticism it passes muster, then the skeptic has good reasons to accept it. So the skeptic does accept certain claims to be true. No one can be skeptical of everything. It’s just that each truth claim he tests for himself must pass the test of skepticism.
Such skepticism has led me to atheism. There are no supernatural entities or forces at all, although since I cannot state that with a measure of certainty I’m best described as an agnostic atheist.
2. When did you know you were an agnostic atheist? Did it scare you or was it a non-issue?
The process I went through was long, almost thirteen years. I went through several stages representative of the history of Christian theology itself, until I came to my present position today.
I questioned the Biblical accounts of creation, then Genesis 1-11, and then other portions of the Bible began falling like dominoes. I became a deist, an existential liberal, a full blown agnostic and then an atheist.
What finally tipped the balance for me was why there didn’t seem to be a reasonable initial solution to our existence. The best explanation for this state of affairs was that it happened by chance. An eternally existing fully formed triune divine being who has never learned anything did not explain anything at all for me.
While I was relived to come to this conclusion, the initial process was the most agonizing. It was indeed scary because of the eternal threat of hell. So I had to be very sure I was correct, so sure that I would be willing to risk the threat of hell if I was wrong. And I do. That’s how sure I am Christianity is a delusion. That should say something I think.
And I had invested so much time and money in my education with a hopeful career and many Christian friends that it was also scary to decide to leave that community and my goals.
It can be a painful thing to leave the faith. We like our comfort-zones. We don’t want to leave a community of friends. They won’t come with us. We leave alone. It’s literally like a divorce. I then had to reinvent myself.
3. Ever suffer persecution as an agnostic atheist?
I am personally attacked every single day because I argue against Christianity. That’s why I am forced to moderate comments on my blog.
I want a decent respectable discussion of the ideas that separate us or none at all. If it is opened up for anonymous comments the Blog would degenerate into a name calling free for all on both sides.
It appears that some Christians feel personally attacked because I disagree with their ideas and that’s a non-sequitur. Since I begin my book as a “tell all” account of my personal life they have used that information to personally malign me at every occasion they can.
My initial reactions to such abuse were polite but then degenerated as I wallowed in the mire with them. I’ve since become inured from such attacks and I ignore them for the most part.
It would seem that the Christians who do so probably cannot deal with my arguments so that’s the only thing left they can do. There are several blogs dedicated to maligning me personally and hardly ever seriously engage my arguments. One intelligent Christian wrote me about one such blog writer: “You clearly have gotten under his skin and he clearly feels that he cannot take you on intellectually or else he would make each blog post a critique of your work – either that or he is childish.”
The way I have been verbally attacked leads me to think that if they had the political power of the church during the Inquisition they would’ve lit the fires that burned me at the stake while singing “Kumbaya.”
4. What do you want to accomplish with your life?
I have several personal, private goals, like being happily married to my wife Gwen until death do us part. She’s perfect for me.
Other than that I want to change the religious landscape in America bit by bit, one person at a time. I think we’d be better off without religion, especially the fundamentalist kind. I really do, although it’s probably never going to go away.
I do think that just as the liberalizing tendencies have changed Christianity down through the centuries, they will continue to do so into the future. As such, fundamentalists will be forced to choose to live in the backwoods without having much political power.
What’s interesting to me is how Christianity is debunked in every generation but rather than admit their debunking and leave the fold Christians reinvent their faith in light of skeptical arguments.
The Christianity of today is not like the Christianity of a hundred years or a few centuries ago or like the earliest varieties of Christianity in the beginning few centuries. The Christianity of tomorrow will not look like the one that exists today, either. They will think their version is the correct one and that the Christians of today were wrong about several things, possibly significant things. Too bad we cannot compare those Christianities because they are not here yet.
You see, since death ends my life I must give everything I can to the present one. That’s all I have. And I want to make a difference for my children and their children and their children because I care about them. I do not want it to be said in the future that I didn’t do my best for my future great- great- great- Grandchildren. I want them to remember me with fondness for what I did for their future.
And it’s too bad that if I’m right about death no one will ever know that I was, because we won’t wake up after death to realize that death ends it all.
We go where dogs and parasites and sharks go when they die. Any account of heaven that leaves all other living creatures out of it is seriously deficient, but then having mosquitoes and skunks in heaven would be deficient as well.
5. Who are your heroes? Why?
My wife. She’s my main encourager and motivator. My rock. She believes in me like no one else.
My intellectual hero by far is Bart D. Ehrman. He is dismantling evangelical Christianity like probably no one has ever done in any generation. He has the knowledge and the recent tools at his exposure.
And he treats Christianity with respect. He writes both scholarly and popular books. My philosophical heroes on a very short list in modern times are Michael Martin, William L. Rowe, Paul Draper, Keith Parsons, Theodore Drange and J.L. Schellenberg. My heroes in the recent past are Bertrand Russell, and J.L. Mackie.
When it comes to debunking Christianity one of my heroes of the past is Thomas Paine, and in the present day I must mention Dan Barker, my friend.
Among Biblical scholars of today Hector Avalos and his efforts stand head and shoulders above others. I also respect the efforts of Edward T. Babinski (who first encouraged me), Robert M. Price, and Richard Carrier.
David Eller, an anthropologist, is the one voice that should take atheism into the future. He should be one of the main spokespersons for atheism. There are others.
And not to mention the so-called “New Atheists,” I appreciate the way they have grabbed the attention of believers in America. Like many minorities of the past someone had to stand up before the world and say unabashedly with force that the Emperor has no clothes on. I appreciate their courage and conviction.
Now people are looking seriously at our claims and there are even shelves for atheist books in major national bookstore chains because of them.
6. What would you like to accomplish with your blog?
I think I already answered that in question #2. Needless to say I believe the Blog will outlast me and be a force for debunking Christianity long after I’m gone, as long as there is an internet.
I want to treat Christianity with respect while I debunk it as a delusion, i.e., as false.
Believers with doubts now have a place to be able to learn from us and express themselves in a respectful environment. In the church doubts are not expressed, nor are questions encouraged. So they have little option but to look on the web for answers, and you know the answers we’ll provide them.
7. What’s your favorite part about being an agnostic atheist?
My favorite part is being able to do what’s right because it’s right and not because I have to find a Biblical passage that tells me it’s right. I can think for myself.
I don’t have to try to justify what I do from the Bible. I don’t have to try to justify why I never tithed the whole ten percent (Christians do not do this by far–as a former minister I know they don’t), or why I never spent enough time in prayer, or why I did not give thanks for everything, or why I did not evangelize all of the time, or why I didn’t do more in response to my belief that God sent his son to atone for my sins.
And I no longer have to gerrymander what the Bible says in order to make the unreasonable and improbable believable. I never could figure out how Jesus could be 100% God and 100% man, nor was there any cogent way to understand how Jesus atoned for my sins, nor do I have to try to justify why there is so much evil in the world if there is a perfectly good and omnipotent God, nor do I have to justify my belief that women are equal to men from the Bible, or why slavery was okay in the Bible but not now, or why genocide was a command that a perfectly good God who cares for every individual person commanded.
8. Are there any Christian concepts that you respect?
You mean distinctively Christian concepts, don’t you, since we all share many other concepts and ideas. There are no distinctively Christian concepts that I accept. The ones I do accept I do so because of other reasons.
I think marriage should be monogamous between two committed people. I think it’s better to tell the truth and to forgive people who do you wrong. I fully accept democratic capitalism, the rights of all people to pursue life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness until someone harms another person or group, and I support the first amendment, for starters.
But when it comes to respecting distinctively Christian ideas, it’s hard to do. I do treat these ideas respectfully, but I do not respect them at all. I do recognize certain Christian scholars who are experts at mental gymnastics and I marvel at the contorted reasoning they use to support these ideas, so I respect their intelligence at defending delusional beliefs, yes.
But the beliefs themselves are complete and utter hogwash, most notable Plantinga’s Reformed Epistemology, which if that was the very first issue he ever wrote about in his career would probably have been ignored even by most Christian scholars.
There are, though, several major Christian thinkers who have proposed what I called the “Six Major Ideas That May Help Save Christianity From Refutation in Our Generation,” (some others are mentioned in a comment by Heyzeus7 below mine).
I have to respect Christian thinkers who can do this for their faith even if I think what they defend is utterly false.
9. Does it irritate you when Christians try to share their faith with you?
Not at all, unless they simply quote the Bible to me and refuse to think about the ideas they believe based on what they quote. Bible thumpers are complete ignoramuses and do irritate me.
10. Were you ever a Christian? Would you go back?
This first question is a double-edge one. On the one hand I believed the Bible and trusted in God’s salvation, studied what I thought was his word, prayed daily, and sought to share my faith, yes. I was a Christian in the same sense that any believer you know, including yourself, professes faith in Christ.
But on the other hand, from my perspective today, I was never a Christian, if by that one means someone who was actually in a saved relationship with God-in-Christ. I was never Christian in the sense that there is no truth to Christianity.
If being a Christian means that I had a personal relationship with God-in-Jesus Christ, then I never had such a relationship, for such a supernatural being is based upon non-historical mythology. There is no divine forgiveness because there is no divine forgiver. There was no atonement because Jesus did not die for the world’s sins. There was no God-man in the flesh to believe in. My petitionary prayers were nothing but wishful hoping.
And this goes for any professing believer, too. You are not a Christian, either, because there is no Christ, no Messiah, no God-in-the-flesh, no Holy Spirit regeneration, no devil and no heaven to go to when you die.
Would I ever go back? Not to evangelical Christianity, that’s for sure. I left that for good.
Your Turn
John, I want to thank you very much for taking the time and being so frank and honest. This was a very compelling and rewarding read. Anyone have any questions, comments or concerns? Have at it.
10 Questions with an Atheist: (((Billy)))
**Part of the 10 Questions with an Atheist series.**
First things first: The cat to my left is NOT (((Billy))) the Atheist.
It’s William of Ockham…
Better known as the Singular and Invincible Doctor. [You'll see why he's important in a minute.]
(((Billy))) either forgot or neglected my request for a picture.
He did send me a very intriguing story. One told in ten answers to ten questions.
One you can read, right now, if you just keep moving your eyes down the screen.
That’s it. You got the hang of it.
1. How would you describe yourself: atheist, agnostic or skeptic]? Explain.
I have gone from a soft theist (elementary school) to deist (junior high) to universal deist (high school) to agnostic to atheist. I am an atheist (note that my blog is, after all, called (((Billy))) the Atheist). I see no natural phenomena which cannot be explained through natural explanations.
At the same time, I am somewhat agnostic. I know that, dealing with supernatural phenomena, I cannot ever be 100% sure that the supernatural does not exist as it is impossible to prove a negative. So call me about .00001% agnostic.
I am also a skeptic. I am a firm believer in the scientific method, including the self-correcting mechanisms within the scientific community. I am highly skeptical of professional skeptics.
2. When did you know you were an atheist? Did it scare you or was it a non-issue?
I realized that I was an atheist on (about) my 42nd birthday. I had been comfortably agnostic for about 20 years and really did not see any reason to question my world view.
My agnosticism grew out of a thoroughly naturalistic upbringing. As a kid, I saw a great deal of mountains and national parks (I grew up in the national parks — literally (Dad was a park ranger)). All of our road trips through the southwest included long, and wonderful, discussions about the geology of wherever we were driving. I learned, at a very early age, that any rock formation, no matter how bizarre, could be explained through volcanism, erosion, deposition, fault lines, thrusts and folding, and other natural geologic processes. It never occurred to me, as I got older, to look for any explanation for the universe other than a natural one.
In the summer of 2007, I discovered the atheosphere. I lurked for about three months. Then I began commenting. As I commented on various blogs (Atheist Revolution, You Made Me Say It, No More Hornets, the Spanish Inquisitor, Ordinary Girl, and many others), I began to learn more about, and refine, my belief system. I realized, eventually, that agnosticism was an intellectual cop out. It did not fit the evidence I saw in the world around me.
Deciding that yes, I really am an atheist, did not scare me. If anything, it made me feel more comfortable with myself.
3. Ever suffer persecution as an atheist?
No. I have had way too many people try to witness me, but have never been persecuted.
4. What do you want to accomplish with your life?
Back in high school, we were told to come up with quotes, sayings, or statements for our senior pictures in the yearbook. I wrote down that my goals were “To leave the world a better place than I found it.” The advisor told me, point blank, that only God and Jesus could make the world a better place and that I, as a hopeless sinner, didn’t have a prayer of achieving my so-called goal unless I embrace Jesus as my saviour. I left the area under my name blank. And this was at a public high school.
That goal is still the same: I really do want to leave the world a better place. I have helped to create a national historic site for the National Park Service. I provided security for the Search and Rescue teams (actually, for the team providing support for the S&R teams) in New York City back in 2001. I served in the army. I served in Louisiana after Katrina. I also work two or three forest fires a year. The difference I make is small, but it is a difference.
Other than that, I want to be able to travel. I want to be able to retire when I am ready. It works.
5. Who are your heroes? Why?
My heroes? Damn. Tough one.
One is Pete Seeger. I learned about the labour movement through his songs and writings. I learned about the civil rights movement through his music, and the music he popularized. I learned about human rights, the dream of peace and equality. Plus, he and I have the same vocal range, so he also taught me to sing (well, what passes for singing, anyway).
William of Occam is another hero of mine: his idea that the simplest explanation is usually the simplest fits perfectly with my naturalistic outlook. And the fact that he came up with the idea centuries ago is even more impresseve.
Another hero is Frank Herbert. He awakened a love of science fiction (beyond the space operas) and literature. Plus, his treatment of the interrelationship between humans and the environment, along his treatment of messianism (if that is a word (if not, replace it with a real one, please?)), are remarkably accurate and, at the same time, frightening.
6. What would you like to accomplish with your blog?
I’m not sure what I want to accomplish with my blog. I really do not expect to deconvert anyone but I will continue to add my voice to the body politic in defense of progressive policies, human rights, and reason. And I will continue to fight against faith-based government and authoritarianism.
7. What’s your favorite part about being an atheist?
Ben & Jerry’s Karamel Sutra Ice Cream. And the secret handshake.
Honestly, it is being able to hold (albeit long range) conversations with people who can challenge my assumptions.
8. Are there any Christian concepts that you respect?
I respect the thoroughly ignored idea that wealth is not everything, that those who are better off should help those less fortunate, and that we should help all people, not just our ‘neighbors.’
The supernatural bullshit (which is about 99.9% of modern Christianity) I can definately do without.
9. Does it irritate you when Christians try to share their faith with you?
Yes Do I Look Like I Need to be Saved? outlines it quite well).
10. Were you ever a Christian? Would you go back?
I actually still consider myself a Unitarian Universalist and, when visiting my folks in Maine, attend their church. However, by virtually any definition one wishes to use, I have never been a Christian. And I see no situation which could possibly send me over to the irrational side of humanity.
(((Billy))), thoroughly enjoyed your unique story. Thank you so much for sharing. Anybody have any questions, comments or concerns? Take a crack at it in the comments below.
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