A little short on time and inspiration again, today, but I have, thankfully, an interview that I really must share with you. An atheist and a novelist! How could I not?
All text © 2009 Gary William Murning
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Whilst watching Richard Dawkins interview Randolph Nesse (see below), I was struck by just how few doctors have, it seems, a background that includes evolutionary theory. The very notion seems quite preposterous — not in the least what I would have expected.
This apart, I was fascinated by the insights that Nesse provided — and rather than waffle on about them myself, because it’s Sunday and I’ve eaten too much, I’ll leave it to the man himself to explain. (The explanation of why our intestines are prone to becoming entangled/twisted seemed so obvious once he’d explained it!)
If you find the video interesting you may also want to visit the website Evolution and Medicine Network.
All text © 2009 Gary William Murning
My, doesn’t time fly when you’re enjoying yourself? It only seems the briefest of moments since we were all preparing to ring in 2008 and, now, here we are again, on the brink of a fresh, brand spanking new year.
So, here’s wishing you a healthy, fulfilled and safe 2009 — with heaps of good fortune and freedom from superstition!
Normal Gary William Murning Online service will resume in a day or two. Be good or, if not, at least be careful. 
Many of you will already be familiar with Richard Dawkins’s series, Enemies of Reason. In this series, Dawkins examines the all-too-readily accepted charlatanism of psychics, astrology, homoeopathy and more.
During one section of Enemies of Reason concerning spiritual readings, Dawkins interviews the illusionist Derren Brown in order that he might be better prepared for the tricks (cold reading etc) that will inevitably be used during a visit he plans to make to a spiritualist church.
Below, you will find the complete, uncut interview (not shown in the original series.) The interview is taken from “The Enemies of Reason: The Uncut Interviews“.
All text © 2008 Gary William Murning
Very occasionally, when I write about my atheistic/humanistic approach to life on this blog, I am asked why expressing my bordering-on-antitheistic position is so important to me. I mean, if I don’t believe, I don’t believe. What more really needs to be said on the subject? It’s not as if I’m being forced at gunpoint to attend church, now, is it?
And this is a valid point. Or it would be if we lived in a world where the actions and attitudes of others did not impact upon the world and people around them.
Frankly, I’ve never really hidden my atheism. I’ve never had to. But my decision to be more vocal about it, to encourage debate and to look at the issues that concern me as a human being was, it has to be said, partially prompted… substantially prompted by the overwhelming assault from Christianity I started to see online. On my MySpace page, for example, I’d selected “atheist” not as some kind of statement but merely in the same way that I had selected “male”. When I started receiving friend requests from Christians intent on showing me the error of my ways, however, I dashed along as quickly as was humanly possible to Richard Dawkins’s website and found one of those nice red “A”s to stick on my then blog over at MySpace.
There seemed a lack of balance in cyberspace. In a virtual sense, I felt as if I were at times living in the American Bible Belt.
And when I started to see similar religious attitudes creeping more forcefully into the UK, I didn’t believe that I had any choice other than to continue to openly and unapologetically express my views. The things I held dear were being gradually undermined.
And it would seem that they still are:
“Of the 248 science teachers who responded, 18% agreed that the two should have equal status.
18%. It quite possibly doesn’t sound a whole lot to many people — and I know that some of my readers would argue (wrongly) that the 18% are quite correct. But given the number of teachers in the UK, this is a significant body of people. A body of people that does not understand scientific principles, or is perhaps taking the politically correct stance — afraid for whatever reason to challenge religious belief in the science classroom. A body of people that, as Dr Rutherford says, should be removed from their posts unless they teach the syllabus as it’s meant to be taught.
The insidiousness of creationism, it would seem, continues to make its mark in British schools, presenting a distorted view of science and attributing an utterly ridiculous equality to mythological mumbo-jumbo.
If we are to protect and nurture scientific development in the UK — continue to build a future founded on fact, logic, science and rationalism so that we all might enjoy the benefits — it’s vital that such opinions be relegated to their deserved position.
Religious Studies lessons or, even better, History.
When I think of buses, the first thing that springs to mind is not an opportunity to promote atheism. The way some of those sons of bitches drive, I’d actually expect quite the opposite! Haven’t you ever prayed on a bus? I know I have! (And before anyone sees this as an opportunity, I’m joking! I don’t pray — never have in any meaningful way — and, well, this gentleman is certainly not for turning, so save your breath )
However unlikely and bizarre the proposition might seem, however, if all goes according to plan there is a distinct possibility that from January of next year buses in the UK may be seen driving about with slogans such as “THERE’S PROBABLY NO GOD. Now Stop Worrying and Enjoy Your Life” emblazoned on the sides.
I must admit, however militant an atheist I can occasionally be, at first glance I had mixed feelings regarding this. And then I read this:
That swung it for me. It’s a clear and necessary reaction to the persistent encroachment of toxic myth on the lives of those of us who wish no part of it. As I’ve said many times before, I’m perfectly happy for other people to believe whatever they wish — once that belief encroaches upon what we know to be true or is used in an attempt to convert me, however, then a reaction is justified and morally correct.
For more on this and details of how to donate to the campaign, please visit here.
John over at Homo economicus’ Weblog tagged me to answer this series of questions regarding the big fella upstairs (who, in case you haven’t already realised, I don’t believe in.)
Can You Remember The Day That You Officially Became An Atheist?
To be honest, the more I think about it, the more I realise I’ve never really been anything but an atheist. That might seem like a strange thing to say but let me break it down for you, and then see if it doesn’t sound a little less strange.
- I was born an atheist. I had no knowledge of God until those around me told me about him. I had no childhood visionary experience, no bearded face staring down at me through the clouds, nothing — merely the cultural influences of religion which are addressed in point two.
- My parents were/are not overtly religious. As it turned out, I was later to find that I come from a line of atheists on my father’s side — but nevertheless, in childhood I was touched by that wishy-washy, half-hearted Church of England tradition that many of us are possibly familiar with. I can’t remember anyone in my family attending church other than for christenings, funerals and the occasional wedding. I sang hymns at school and listened to the occasional passage being read from the New Testament — and on one occasion, I even played Joseph in the school nativity play. But did I actually believe any of it? That’s a tough one, but I’m not really convinced that I did — certainly not in the way that I would have believed as an adult. I accepted what I was told, but as soon as I learned that Father Christmas didn’t really exist my doubts in other areas — as ill-formed as they might have been — came to the fore. Granted, I was not an intellectual atheist in the way that I am today, but I’ve never really been guilty of having faith of this kind.
Do you remember the day you officially became an agnostic?
Technically, I’m agnostic. I’m a six on the Dawkins atheist scale, which means I believe the existence of God to have a very low probability — low enough to be an unrealistic proposition, but still short of zero. Dawkins would describe me as a de facto atheist, and I’d agree with that, but some will nevertheless insist that my position is that of an agnostic.
To answer your question, however, I have to say that I never became and have never considered myself an agnostic. At this time, I have absolutely no belief in any kind of god — but maybe someone will provide new evidence tomorrow (I don’t think so, but…) I work with what I know. Working with what I know I see no need of a god. Mine is not a noncommittal position or one of asserting that such things cannot be proved or disproved either way.
How about the last time you spoke or prayed to God with actual thought that someone was listening?
I don’t remember ever really feeling as if there were someone else on the other end of the line. I prayed because those around me — in school assembly, for example — were praying. All those people can’t be wrong, right? Wrong!
Did anger towards God or religion help cause you to be an atheist or agnostic?
Absolutely not. Apart from the logical impossibility of being angry at something I’ve never really actually believed in, I see too much understandable beauty around me to be angry about life and how it works. I see mysteries and experience wonder just about everywhere I look — but these mysteries are not unknowable, they are not beyond explanation. For me, understanding is more thrilling than anything else I know (well, almost… )
Religion, frankly, at times disgusts me now — but that’s because I understand its lies, and that disgust played no part in making me what I am.
Here is a good one: Were you agnostic towards ghosts, even after you became an atheist?
All aspects of the so-called “paranormal” interested me for a while, but largely from the perspective of wanting to understand. I prefer to use the word sceptic in this situation. I look at “evidence” and try to understand it, without automatically jumping to the conclusions that others do. For the record, I don’t believe in ghosts.
Do you want to be wrong?
Hell no! LOL. No, seriously, if we’re talking about whether I would like the Abrahamic god to exist, then I’d have to paraphrase Christopher Hitchens; if you prove to me he exists then your work has just begun. I do not want to know this kind of god. Hitchens compares this tradition (and others) to a dictatorship. He wants no part of it and neither do I.
If, on the other hand, there did turn out to be an afterlife that was much like this life but better then, yes, I’d be happy to be wrong.
I don’t think I am, though!
So to spread these ideas around, and keep the meme alive, I better tag some people:
Mike.
Whilst catching up with the posts at homoeconomicusnet, I came across a piece that John had written on the sorry excuse for a journalist, Quentin Letts. As John points out:
“[...] he [Letts] has written a book on Fifty People Who Buggered Up Britain. He rails against the removal of corporal punishment from schools, that Britain is broken and the European super state is coming, when what we need is some more church going.”
Richard Dawkins is, of course, on the list at number 30.
What a complete and utter buffoon this Quentin Letts is! The last time I was truly miserable I was in a church! Admittedly, it was for a funeral service, but I found absolutely no comfort in the surroundings, the mythos behind them — and certainly not in the bumbling bloke in a frock up front.
I was an atheist long before I even knew who Richard Dawkins was. But Richard certainly reinforced my ability to argue from a position of a lack of belief. And in so doing he did not weaken my happiness. With books like Unweaving Rainbow, he did, in fact, the exact opposite.
Quentin Letts is unoriginal, facile, thick as pig-shit and clearly deluded in more than one sense of the word. And he isn’t funny.
(I bet he’s really ugly, too.)
Richard gets “speculative”.
As some of you may have noticed, I didn’t get round to writing a summary of the final episode of Richard Dawkins’s Channel 4 series “The Genius of Charles Darwin.” The truth is, I’ve only just got round to watching it myself — and forgot to make notes!
To make up for it, I’m going to suggest that you read the excellent summary provided by John over at Homo economicus’ Weblog. You could do a lot worse than add this blog to your feedreader. John has excellent credentials and his blog is always a good, well-informed read.
One thing I would like to talk about regarding this particular episode, however, is the attitude of teachers in British schools to the teaching of Darwin/evolutionary theory. In the course of this episode, we are introduced to a gentleman called Nick Cowan, who is a science teacher at Liverpool’s Blue Coat School (the school isn’t named in the documentary, but this gentleman didn’t take much finding!)
Mr Cowan can be seen in this segment, about seven and a half minutes in, and in the following segment — and if you haven’t already seen the documentary, or if you haven’t guessed, he is a creationist.
Watching, I was utterly dumbfounded. At one point, Dawkins asks the viewer if he/she would want someone like Mr Cowan teaching their children, and it was like being five and at a pantomime all over again! I actually shouted “no!” at the screen, that’s how strongly I felt about this issue.
Choosing my words carefully, I have to say that from where I’m sitting Mr Cowan’s credentials as a science teacher of any kind are completely undermined by the nonsense he spouts during this segment. If I had kids and this man was teaching them I would have been waiting at the school gates on Tuesday morning suggesting very strongly that he should be dismissed.
Now some might argue that because he isn’t teaching creationism as part of the science curriculum (he teaches it in a general studies class), I shouldn’t have an issue with this. But the man is a scientist, for God’s sake! (Yes, that was deliberate.) A scientist believing in God is bad enough, but I can just about accept that. But a scientist (okay, a science teacher — not always the same thing!) believing in creationism?… no, it’s too much of a dichotomy, and whilst he might be able to live with that and rationalise it using the unscientific intelligent design copout, I certainly can’t.
It is extremely depressing. People like Nick Cowan are potentially damaging our future understanding of science and quite possibly contributing to shortages of properly qualified scientists in science-related industries. Evolutionary theory is a fundamental part of biology. It’s vital that these kids have an accurate and truthful understanding of it, that they know just like I know, just like Dawkins knows, just like many, many of my regular readers know that it is a fact. The evidence is so overwhelming that it is now, in spite of what creationists and intelligent design proponents might claim, simply absurd to “believe” otherwise. It is a fact, as Dawkins points out, in the same way that gravity is a fact.
As my former headmaster, Phil Willis MP, says concerning the creationist packs that were sent to five thousand secondary schools in the UK back in 2006,
“This is quite frankly a distraction that science teachers can well do without.”
In April of 2006, the Royal Society summed it up quite perfectly, however. I leave you with their comment and the first segment of Episode Three of “The Genius of Charles Darwin”.
“Young people are poorly served by deliberate attempts to withhold, distort or misrepresent scientific knowledge and understanding in order to promote particular religious beliefs.”
