Sapient on locking Christians away

"What do you think..."

Rhology asked for my take on a Brian Sapient statement. I don't know the original context, but here is the question as Rhology put it in a comment.

What do you think of the Rational Response Squad's Brian Sapient's statement that Christians are mentally ill and should be locked up in mental institutions?

This is a question that requires a multi-part response.

Christians and mental illness:

While there is a clear social factor involved, it has not to my knowledge been demonstrated that Christian beliefs amount to an "impairment of an individual's normal cognitive, emotional, or behavioral functioning"

It may be the case that some Christians have a sort of mental illness. However, Sapient's statement seems to be far too sweeping to have any weight to it, particularly since many Christians are as different from one another as night from day.

This part of the question, then, is a matter of fact. Is it in fact the case that those following the Christian faith (in all of its many forms) are mentally impaired from normal functioning?

No. Human beings do not by default behave rationally, nor to they typically have rational reasons for adopting any given belief.

Should they be incarcerated:

I'll start by stating that we as humans should be given the strong presumption of freedom. It is when human action causes or threatens immanent harm on others that we consider punishment or "locking away."

So the real question is whether we have reasons to keep Christians separated from the rest of society.

Harm:

The answer depends on how "harm" is understood. In a desire utilitarian sense - as expressed in the first post on this blog - "harm" occurs when real-world human desires are thwarted. Because desires are the only reasons for action that exist, humans have reasons to promote good desires in others... good desires being those that tend to fulfill the desires of others.

One example of a good desire is "that the desires of others be fulfilled." *Not necessarily that "I fulfill the desires of others,"* so recognize the difference.

Are Christians more evil?:

We have no good reasons to believe that Christians (especially "all Christians") cause harm to other people, any more than any other group. Not all Christians cause a "mental illness" in others. There is no case that can be fairly made to say that Christians deserve to be jailed any more than any other group, and to make that claim amounts to bigotry.

The strong presumption of liberty we follow (since the removal of liberty is among the most desire-thwarting actions possible) stands until Sapient or others can provide reasons to believe Christians (especially "all Christians") cause or threaten more harm than other groups.

Anthony Flew - It doesn't really matter

Introduction

Appeals to authority are valid arguments only insofar as the authority is an actual authority, and if the truth matches what the authority says.

-On any given philosophical issue, citing Richard Dawkins as an authority is a fallacy. He may, by coincidence, be correct about the issue, but that is not by merit of his "authority" stance - because he is not an authority on philosophy.

-Citing Sam Harris as an authority on a philosophical issue is a much better idea, as he is trained in philosophy. However, he may be incorrect or dishonest in what he says.

In both these cases, what the person says may be taken as a valid argumentative position - only insofar as the position that authority takes is correct.

Anthony Flew

For a few years now, this former atheist-turned-deist has been paraded by religious folks and degraded by freethinkers. This New York Times article has generated conversation all over the bloggosphere. I'm here to say it doesn't matter.

Flew's conversion from disbelief to belief in a higher power is interesting only if he demonstrates that the arguments which swayed him are valid and should logically sway rational thinkers. As he has simply churned out age-old arguments made invalid since Occam's Razor was formalized (at least), Flew's conversion holds no significance whatsoever.

Disassociation

There has always been an unfair bias among religious people and atheists on this sort of issue. Anthony Flew was undeniably an atheist, and he is now undoubtedly a theist. When a Christian becomes a "poor example" of Christianity (ie. gets involved in scandalizing male prostitution ordeals), he/she is easily shrugged off as "never even was a Christian."

This is how religious people can avoid criticism. Of course, they're quick to jump back to "of course we all fail - but if [someone other than me] fail on a grand scale, it shows she was never a Christian to begin with." This is the "no true scotsman" fallacy. I bring it up in part because, ironically enough, Anthony Flew is credited with having coined the name for that particular logical fallacy.

The point is this: Just as the actions of a theist in no way discredit the argument that "at least one god exists," the decision of an atheist to become a theist in no way weakens atheist arguments. If the motivations for Flew's decision are valid, we have a different story - similarly, if the motives of the misbehaving theist derive from his religious views, we may call into question any cultural acceptance of the particular religious teaching he was following.

Quit focusing on Flew; continue to discuss the arguments that led to his conversion.

Reminiscence

One advantage a person has in being a religious person and then becoming an atheist is that I have a very important set of memories. I understand what it feels like to be religious. For a while after rejecting my religious beliefs I was rather defensive and prickly about the matter. I was impatient with people who didn't see things the way I did. I was the one, after all, whose eyes had been opened.

Then I realized that any criticisms I leveled about the basic intelligence of the religious was a criticism I had to apply to myself. That's how I know you religious people are smart and all very handsome and well-mannered :)

It has been nearly a year, at the time that I'm writing this, since I have called myself a Christian. My memories of my faith-based life, thus, are still vivid. I was cleaning out a few possessions and came across an old page-binder in which were some folded-up pieces of paper with poems I had written.

I don't know the limits of copyright law on the internet and such, so if these poems reflected what I considered to be excellent pieces of work, I'd be more anxious in ensuring that I maintain the rights than I am. However, I have no qualms with using them to illustrate my thoughts.

"The winter came sudden, like the Norsemen of old,
With unstoppable force and unbearable cold.
It brought layers of snow that topped off the charts,
And it froze 'til the cars would not even start.

Is it true that the winter is dead?
Is it through?
Will the sun reascend?
Winter's fled, at its end?

The winter then stopped, it was brought to a halt,
But the snow was still thick and the roads needed salt.
The clouds of the storm swept out of the skies
So the comforting sun, unchallenged, could rise.

It is true that the winter is dead!
It has fled!
It is through!
Winter's fair end lets the sun reascend!

The sun reaches its zenith, not a cloud stands to fight,
And the warm, shining rays cast a life-giving light.
See the temperature rise as, to no one's surprise,
The snow starts to melt as the long winter dies.

Yet is it true that the winter's quite through?
Is it thoroughly dead?
In defeat has it fled?
Has it come to an end or will the sun now descend?

For the winter still lurks, it is not far away,
And the gathering clouds dissipate the sun's ray.
Until shadow and cold once again mist our breath
And the sun choked by clouds and by winter's cold death.

But the sun will have victory, though it seems he's not here
The winter months are waning and the spring's drawing near.
What had once been frozen, hopeless and bleak
Can be saved by the sun in less than a week.

Now winter and death have come to an end
And freeing the world, the Sun will ascend
The winter will flee and we'll all become free
The coldness is through, now at last that is true."

I wrote that when I was fifteen or sixteen years old - in my defense, I had only just started writing poetry. Yet the allegorical nature of this poem is blatant even without replacing the word 'sun' with 'Son.' This sort of imagery allowed me to place strong emotional contexts to my faith. I have never liked the winter (except for the opportunities it affords me to go snowboarding... wrapped up warmly). It may not be something that happens to all of the faithful, but I had personal emotional attachments to my religious beliefs, some of which were quite subconscious. Other people may equate their faith with the faith of a loved one, even someone who has died. To criticize that person's faith, then, is subconsciously like criticizing the faith of the loved one.

I think the second poem helps demonstrate the emotional aspects which controlled my outlook on my faith:

"Isn't it great to read a tale of epic struggle against the bad?
When good is threatened; about to fail, but summons strength few knew it had?
When the battle's lost and all have fled and evil's finally won,
A spark of good stands up to fight when all the rest have run.
Good faces evil, a David and Giant, small but grim and still defiant,
And evil sways in fear and doubt of this strange combat that's just begun,
And locked in battle this underdog knows that he can overcome.

It seems it's just in stories that these happy tales occur,
But far beyond our consciousness a spirit battle stirs.
For we have an evil tyrant, and we have a fallen race,
We have a hero who rose again from dying in our place.

The battle still is raging - we'll be drawn to it 'ere long,
So let's just put our armor on so God will make us strong.
And when the battle's lost and all have fled, and evil seems to win,
Our Lord will come, absolve our sins, and save our worthless skin."

There's nothing more honest than my attitude about that story was when I wrote it. With all sincerity, that's how I viewed my faith - in a nutshell. An epic struggle against the bad. A hero who died and rose again. A noble God who takes our side, even when we don't deserve it.

It's impossible to overstate the importance of emotion in our mental persuasions. I urge everybody who reads this to consider how your outlook on life looks to someone who does not share your emotional attachment to it. Does it still look the same?