Book review: The God Delusion
I've knocked off another audiobook. This time it's Richard Dawkins' The God Delusion, which I read due to the recommendation of Christopher Hitchens. I can see how their ideas echo one another and how Dawkins' book came before Hitchens'. Several of the logical and scientific arguments of Dawkins are refined and better put in Hitchens' book, God is Not Great.
A wonderful and far-reaching summary of the book can be found here. It says more, more accurately, than I could say about the subject matter. I liked the book. It added to my understanding and especially to my ability to articulate my own thoughts on religion and the divine.
Warning: Possibly triggery discussion of personal religious views, including lack of said views.
I am glad that books like this are out there. This one was published in 2006. I've been a mostly-closeted atheist for all of my thinking life, never able to wrap my mind around how a person was to choose between the mess of different religions out there. I finally decided, as a child, that the following argument must be true:
It helps that I was raised in a household that didn't put much emphasis on religion or observances of faith. My maternal grandparents were Baptist and my mother is as well, more or less. My father is an atheist, although he doesn't disavow the supernatural - he just thinks he's never seen any sign of it, much like me. He thinks maybe it's out there, maybe it's not. Sort of like Antarctica, it's not a place he cares about or needs constant verification of.
More than Hitchens, Dawkins puts emphasis on the scientific method and logical arguments, proof and hypothesis, the bias involved in personal experiences, and so on. He talks about how when one person has a delusion, they're insane, but when many share the same one, it's called religion.
One thing that stood out to me was the common fallacy of people to take an either/or proposition and assume that both outcomes are equally likely. For example, 'Does God exist? Either He exists or He doesn't, so there's a 50/50 chance of being right.' This is untrue, as you can see from rephrasing it, 'Is an invisible Godzilla about to step on my house and crush it? Either he is or he isn't, so there's a 50/50 chance of it happening.' Of course, the odds of an invisible Godzilla stepping on my house are miniscule to the point of absurdity (as are the odds of God existing). I had an argument with my son recently about the same sort of thing -
Him: 'What would we do if zombies attacked us?'
Me: 'There's no such thing as zombies.'
Him: 'There could be.'
Me: 'No, not in any realistic sense. Brain-eating shambling mobs are fictional. I don't need to think about what would happen if they attacked, because they won't.'
Him: 'But it could happen.'
Me: 'No, it couldn't. What will happen is that some day you'll turn 18 and need to work for a living. You should worry about things that are definite more than things that are unlikely.'
Him: 'But if zombies attacked, then nothing else would matter.'
Me: 'Do you really think there are zombies?'
Him: 'There might be. There's, like, a chance of it.'
Me: 'There's no chance.'
Him: 'It's a small chance.'
Me: 'There's no chance. Like, none.'
And that was pretty much the argument. In retrospect, maybe he was just inviting me to play along in the imaginary game of 'what-if', but since I know him and have raised him, I think there's a good chance (much higher than that of zombies) that he actually thinks zombies are a possibility in reality. This is, after all, a child who initially thought Lord of the Rings was historically accurate. He's told me that God exists, too. But then again, at the age of 13, he still believes in Santa Claus. I keep thinking one of these years he'll figure it out. He certainly expressed some doubt last year. I feel guilt at having misled someone so gullible.
Maybe there's something I can do to help him out. I've heard of a Camp Quest I could send him to over next summer for indoctrination in critical thinking skills. I'm going to look into that. It's a week long, but it costs. I'll have to see if I can save up for it by next summer. There's a Skepticon in October in Missouri that I have plans of going to. Maybe they'll have some advice there. The weird thing is how much he wants to believe in the fantastical. He's always wanted to. I'd think it was just a kid thing, but I never wanted to and my daughter doesn't want to. She has no interest in things that aren't true. I'm not saying she doesn't play make-believe, but even at her current age of 7, she clearly knows it's make-believe. My son is so unclear on the concept that the DA wouldn't take his testimony that he'd been molested by the kid next door. I took him for a full psychological workup at the hospital. They agreed with me that he prefers fantasy thinking and believes it to the point of emotional engagement, but he's not so delusional as to be treatable. Not that I know what treatment there is for this lunacy.
Well … he's my kid. Maybe I can someday get him to read Dawkins' book. It would help him, even if I think he would choose not to believe it.
A wonderful and far-reaching summary of the book can be found here. It says more, more accurately, than I could say about the subject matter. I liked the book. It added to my understanding and especially to my ability to articulate my own thoughts on religion and the divine.
Warning: Possibly triggery discussion of personal religious views, including lack of said views.
I am glad that books like this are out there. This one was published in 2006. I've been a mostly-closeted atheist for all of my thinking life, never able to wrap my mind around how a person was to choose between the mess of different religions out there. I finally decided, as a child, that the following argument must be true:
- If there are supernatural forces, then by the definitions put in place in all religions I know about, such forces are vastly more powerful and knowledgeable than I am. The supernatural forces are in a better position than I am to choose what religion I should follow and to lay out what rituals I should use to propitiate them (if any).
- If these god(s) exist, if they are so powerful and knowing, if they have chosen my religion and rituals, then they will indicate such to me in an indisputable manner. They will do this because they know (by virtue of their great knowledge) that I am the sort of person who requires such proof.
- If they fail to provide proof and direction, then either they don't care how or if I worship, they don't exist, or they have decided my soul is unworthy anyway.
It helps that I was raised in a household that didn't put much emphasis on religion or observances of faith. My maternal grandparents were Baptist and my mother is as well, more or less. My father is an atheist, although he doesn't disavow the supernatural - he just thinks he's never seen any sign of it, much like me. He thinks maybe it's out there, maybe it's not. Sort of like Antarctica, it's not a place he cares about or needs constant verification of.
More than Hitchens, Dawkins puts emphasis on the scientific method and logical arguments, proof and hypothesis, the bias involved in personal experiences, and so on. He talks about how when one person has a delusion, they're insane, but when many share the same one, it's called religion.
One thing that stood out to me was the common fallacy of people to take an either/or proposition and assume that both outcomes are equally likely. For example, 'Does God exist? Either He exists or He doesn't, so there's a 50/50 chance of being right.' This is untrue, as you can see from rephrasing it, 'Is an invisible Godzilla about to step on my house and crush it? Either he is or he isn't, so there's a 50/50 chance of it happening.' Of course, the odds of an invisible Godzilla stepping on my house are miniscule to the point of absurdity (as are the odds of God existing). I had an argument with my son recently about the same sort of thing -
Him: 'What would we do if zombies attacked us?'
Me: 'There's no such thing as zombies.'
Him: 'There could be.'
Me: 'No, not in any realistic sense. Brain-eating shambling mobs are fictional. I don't need to think about what would happen if they attacked, because they won't.'
Him: 'But it could happen.'
Me: 'No, it couldn't. What will happen is that some day you'll turn 18 and need to work for a living. You should worry about things that are definite more than things that are unlikely.'
Him: 'But if zombies attacked, then nothing else would matter.'
Me: 'Do you really think there are zombies?'
Him: 'There might be. There's, like, a chance of it.'
Me: 'There's no chance.'
Him: 'It's a small chance.'
Me: 'There's no chance. Like, none.'
And that was pretty much the argument. In retrospect, maybe he was just inviting me to play along in the imaginary game of 'what-if', but since I know him and have raised him, I think there's a good chance (much higher than that of zombies) that he actually thinks zombies are a possibility in reality. This is, after all, a child who initially thought Lord of the Rings was historically accurate. He's told me that God exists, too. But then again, at the age of 13, he still believes in Santa Claus. I keep thinking one of these years he'll figure it out. He certainly expressed some doubt last year. I feel guilt at having misled someone so gullible.
Maybe there's something I can do to help him out. I've heard of a Camp Quest I could send him to over next summer for indoctrination in critical thinking skills. I'm going to look into that. It's a week long, but it costs. I'll have to see if I can save up for it by next summer. There's a Skepticon in October in Missouri that I have plans of going to. Maybe they'll have some advice there. The weird thing is how much he wants to believe in the fantastical. He's always wanted to. I'd think it was just a kid thing, but I never wanted to and my daughter doesn't want to. She has no interest in things that aren't true. I'm not saying she doesn't play make-believe, but even at her current age of 7, she clearly knows it's make-believe. My son is so unclear on the concept that the DA wouldn't take his testimony that he'd been molested by the kid next door. I took him for a full psychological workup at the hospital. They agreed with me that he prefers fantasy thinking and believes it to the point of emotional engagement, but he's not so delusional as to be treatable. Not that I know what treatment there is for this lunacy.
Well … he's my kid. Maybe I can someday get him to read Dawkins' book. It would help him, even if I think he would choose not to believe it.