An Insight On Gates

From Stanley Fish:

I flashed back 20 years or so to the time when Gates arrived in Durham, N.C., to take up the position I had offered him in my capacity as chairman of the English department of Duke University. One of the first things Gates did was buy the grandest house in town (owned previously by a movie director) and renovate it. During the renovation workers would often take Gates for a servant and ask to be pointed to the house’s owner. The drivers of delivery trucks made the same mistake. The message was unmistakable: What was a black man doing living in a place like this?

There are reasons why people sometimes explode.

Back

Baycloud

First off, a huge amount of thanks to Conor F, Conor C, Bob Wright and your very own Dish under-bloggers, Patrick and Chris. Since this wasn't really a vacation for me (I wrote a 10,000 word piece in my time "off"), I found myself browsing the Dish as a general reader and loving its eclectic, open-ended excursions into the news. It was particularly great to have Conor Friedersdorf since he's a Dish alum and one of the sane, reasoned voices of the next conservatism. I've tried to do what I can to encourage such voices as the Republican blogosphere seems hell-bent on expelling them in its Malkin-Riehl-Reynolds zeal for whatever Cheney wants. And I might as well concede that Bob Wright is an intellectual hero of mine, even when I disagree with him. If you have not yet bought his new book, The Evolution of God, do yourself a favor. If you care about truth and faith, and have an open mind and soul, it will change your view of things a little.

The good news is that I haven't missed any actual summer, working 24/7 on blogging and longform journalism. Most of June two men and two beagles spent their days, in our 235 square feet wharf room, sheltering from the cold and wind and rain. We have had a couple of nice days in July, but most days have been cloudy and/or rainy and this past week, riding my bike to the bank, I was chilled to the bone by the cold sea-mist, whipped up by strong winds. I'm sure George Will regards this as proof that global warming is a hoax; others say the Gulf Stream has shifted down a little and the Cape is getting Newfoundland's "summer" and DC is getting Cape Cod's. God fuck you all.

End Times

by Robert Wright

As my week of guest blogging ends, I want to excerpt a few more reader emails on the subject I’ve spent much of my time blogging on: the “new atheism”. But first I want to say that I hope I haven’t antagonized too many new (or old) atheists. I have no beef with atheism per se. In fact, as one reviewer at a prominent atheist website noted, the historical stretches of my new book The Evolution of God—about 95 percent of the book—are atheist-friendly; they trace developments in religious thought to material causes and tend to weaken claims of special revelation. (It’s the other five percent that, from an atheist point of view, is the problem.).

Now, I do have a beef with what one Dish reader helpfully labeled “anti-theism”. Anti-theism is easily conflated with atheism because it is championed by so many vocal atheists these days. I’ve personally tried to avoid that conflation by describing  anti-theism as characteristic of "new atheism" but not intrinsic to atheism. In other words: New Atheism = Atheism + Anti-theism.

But that formulation, in attributing anti-theism to all

prominent new atheists, may be too simple, as one Dish reader’s email suggests:

 

[I]n the writings of Dennett and Dawkins specifically, there are plenty of disclaimers clarifying that they don't mean to suggest that all religion is equally dangerous, and in the introduction to The God Delusion Dawkins specifically makes clear that he's addressing religion of the hard-core, Biblically-literalist, creationist, dominionist-trending sort.  You can hammer Dawkins over the use of the word virus rather than meme — which are essentially interchangeable in his writings about the spread of ideas — but doing so is to miss the forest for the trees, psychoanalyzing one word rather than turning to the writer's full text and history to try to clarify his meaning. 

There’s some truth to this; I’m certainly no Dawkins scholar. Still, whatever disclaimers Dawkins makes, he does seem to subscribe to what I believe is the fundamental confusion of many anti-theists: the idea that religion is the cause of conflicts that involve religion. That’s the presupposition of his assertion that if it weren’t for religion there would be no Israeli-Palestinian conflict—a belief that strikes me as dangerously naïve for reasons I’ve spelled out elsewhere.

Regarding my argument that Dawkins and Dennett are tendentious in using the term “virus” for religious belief, a reader writes:

Has anyone considered the possibility that the use of the term "virus" to describe religion has been taken up not to illustrate the harmful effect of religion but rather to parallel the use of the term "computer virus" to describe those bits of code that command computer to spread copies of themselves?  In 1976, it might have been a stretch to call religion a virus, because at that time, the only example of a virus was a DNA/RNA-based biochemical one.  Thirty years and a computer revolution later, everyone has an expanded sense of what the word virus can mean, and the metaphorical extension of the word is helpful in clarifying the logic of the situation.  And most of us are aware that not all computer viruses are harmful, that some are just playful.  So when I hear religion referred to as a virus of the mind, my assumption is not that religion is being described as harmful, but that it is able to command successfully its own replication.

Actually, I think computer users overwhelmingly think of viruses as bad things. But, intriguingly, the same reader adds:

I suggest doing a Google search on "spread virally".   Most of the hits seems to be about non-harmful replication of ideas.  I don't think that the term "virus" as it is used these days has the negative connotations that Wright thinks it does.

This is a better example of a usage with non-negative connotations–though, interestingly (and I’m not sure what to make of this) it’s the adjectival form—“viral”–that here has the most positive connotations. If you describe a marketing technique that spreads virally as a “virus,” it seems to me to then acquire a dollop of negativity.

Another reader writes:

Dawkins is first and foremost an evolutionary biologist.  His strong opinions on the existence of god flow from his extensive knowledge of biology and genetics, not the other way around.  When Dawkins came up with his "meme" idea thirty-some years ago it was not conceived as a tool to bash religion with.  It's an analogy between how genes propagate through populations and how ideas propagate in and between the minds of people.  Any ideas.  My point is that when Dawkins says a meme is like a virus, he's not just name-calling.  He really means that it is like a virus in some specific details – i.e., how it propagates through the population.

I guess my point is that both Dawkins (in The Blind Watchmaker and The Selfish Gene) and Dennett (in Breaking The Spell – an entire book about this specific topic) consider the effects of religion on society in great depth.  They both readily acknowledge the many positive aspects of religion.  I'm not sure where Robert is quoting the "virus" statements from, but he makes it seem like this is a term they are throwing around willy-nilly without context.  Nothing could be further from the truth.

Of course, the big point that any atheist worth his salt will always bring up now, and which every apologist will try to twist away from by changing the subject, is that whether religion has positive effects on individuals or society tells us nothing about whether god exists.

Point taken. But it also works the other way around: Some atheists, having concluded that religion is wrong in the sense of mistaken, move too easily to the conclusion that it’s wrong in the sense of having bad effects.

OK, enough Godtalk. Let's close with some Dogtalk. I give you Frazier, a dog so cute as to constitute a one-animal argument for the existence of God. If you'd like to be Dog's best friend, here's where you start.    

Until Next Time

by Patrick Appel

This will be my last post. Many thanks to Conor Clarke, Conor Friedersdorf, Robert Wright, and my always excellent co-under-blogger Chris Bodenner. Andrew gets back later today. I'll leave you with a few final thoughts on religion blogging generally. Matt Steinglass sums up the Dish's week-long atheism debate:

There really isn’t anything at all interesting to say anymore about atheism vs. religion, and hasn’t been since at least the 1950s, if not the 1850s.

This is true in a narrow sense: we're walking over very well trod ground. For instance, this 1908 article by naturalist John Burroughs on divinity in nature and believers accepting evolution is as good or better than anything you will come across today. Debates tend to be most fruitful when they are new and all the intellectual powers of society are focused on them. A reader partially echos Steinglass:

As a Ph.D. candidate in religious studies, I'm constantly amazed that folks get away with rehashing ideas about, for example, the origins of religion (often conflated with 'belief,' a singularly post-Enlightenment notion that leaves ritual out, except as some expression of pre-existing belief) who don't know that those concepts have been discredited by serious scholars. Likewise both non-theists and 'believers' debate the merits of religion, without knowing about any but those they've experienced personally, or seen something about on the History Channel or PBS documentaries. This would be like me writing a tech column in Wired because I've used both a PC and a Mac in a computer lab before, or a thesis on the mechanics of electricity because I've switched on a light thousands of times in my life, and been illuminated more than I've been shocked, or vice versa.

Religion is one of the only subjects on which one can become an 'expert' simply by having some exposure to the phenomena. The relationship between faith and practice, belief and ritual, moral/ethical norms and politics–all of these issues tend to be discussed as if no research has gone into exploring them, or only from the standpoint of implicit or expressed theology (what people should do, empirically unverifiable accounts of what 'God' does) rather than history (what people actually have done, for centuries). Please make an effort to highlight work in the field of religious studies, and the anthropology, history, and sociology of religion. Or at least know that the subjects dealt with here have left long paper trails, and it occasionally would be fruitful to spend time following them.

This is a common criticism whenever the Dish discusses religion, and though we are always happy to highlight work in religious studies and related fields whenever we run across it, this critique misunderstands the purpose of these conversations, as does Steinglass. Andrew once discussed religion blogging on the Dish as the intellectual cousin of the 3 am college dormitory debate over God. These topics have been argued into the ground for hundreds of years. If you are well schooled in theology, nothing that has been said this week will strike you as particularly new or ingenious. But that ignores that most individuals haven't had the privilege or time to seriously study theology and that each generation needs to rehash these debates in order to come to personal understandings about belief. Theology is central to many individuals' identities in a way electrical engineering is not. I didn't expect this week's discussion to resolve the question of God, but I hope that it allowed readers from all sides of the debate see those they disagree with more clearly. The reader e-mails demonstrate belief and non-belief as it is lived, rather than studied. And, judging by the reader response, many people have been found the conversation helpful in some small way.  There are frighteningly few public places where normal people can engage in this sort of theological arm wrestling. Several readers have asked for all the posts to be compiled in one place. Here they are, in mostly chronological order:

I'm An Atheist, But…

I'm An Athesit, But… II

I'm An Atheist, But… III

Salvos From The Intra-Atheist Wars

Dissent Of The Day: Atheists As Oppressed Minority

A Negative Word: Against "Atheist"

The Bigger Question: The Existence Of God vs. The Value of Religion

Religion As Corrosive

The Bigger Question, Ctd

Religion And Happiness

Religion And Happiness, Ctd

An Undogmatic Daniel Dennett

Are the New Atheists Intolerant?

Are The "New Atheists" Really Rational?

Is Religion A Great Big Parasite?

Ignoring The Moderates

The Danger Of Fundamentalism And "Religion"

Walking Away: Apatheism

Believing In Belief

"De-Baptism"

Sunday School Sans Religion

Sunday School Sans Religion, Ctd

The Accidental Agnostic

Irrational Thinking

Irrational Thinking, Ctd

Atheist Hope

Who Prejudged?, Ctd

by Chris Bodenner

Ta-Nehisi took issue with a paragraph I wrote:

In my mind there is no equivalency [between the "daily indignities" of whites and blacks], but the reader does raise a good point: there is, and never will be, a white equivalent to the N-word, but "racist" – when unsubstantiated – comes close.

TNC calls this "quite wrong" and writes:

I think we'd all agree that if my spouse gets mad and calls me a sexist, and I fire back by calling her a bitch, I've gone somewhere else. I think we'd agree that if a gay person, without proof, calls me a homophobe, and I fire back by calling him a fag, I've ventured into another league. We are not "close" in terms of the level of our offense.

I couldn't agree more that "bitch," "fag," and especially "nigger" are worse than their counterparts, which is why I stated – twice – that there is simply no equivalent for white people. (They are fundamentally different, of course, because of the power dynamic they imply.) So TNC's objection lies mostly in semantics, specifically "close." The reason I chose that controversial word was to emphasize the following point: throwing around the word "racist" causes white people more anguish and self-doubt than a lot of liberals will acknowledge. That was underscored by the subsequent flood of emails diminishing the reader for complaining – despite several caveats – that whites like him are often unfairly branded as racists.

But in hindsight, I probably should have used the word "closest" instead (as in, "the term 'racist' is the closest white equivalent to 'nigger'"). An alternative like "honky" seems laughable and near meaningless. "Redneck" gets closer because it tries to match "nigger" for its socioeconomic roots. But poor Southern whites never had the same obstacles as blacks, so the term remains toothless. "Racist," on the other hand, hits a unique nerve because it carries a strong moral stigma, which no amount of white privilege can shake (and which it often reinforces). This is the core issue where I think TNC and I disagree, as evidenced when he writes:

The question then becomes, why is it different for "racist"? My only answer is that it's because we, again, equate racist with "immoral." … Again, I think this makes sense, if you believe racism to be the province of societal pariahs, not people who hawk their wares on MSNBC. But if you believe that we live with it every day, that the worst part of racism is how it hides in the hearts of otherwise decent people, than this is rather puzzling.

I suppose I fit more it the former category and TNC the latter. I do believe "racist" should connote an "immorality" for people who say or do things that are unambiguously hateful and denigrating; the bar should be high. Not because I have sympathy for people who say merely careless, ignorant, or insensitive things, but to ensure that "racist" is not diminished in its power to stigmatize truly racist people. Perhaps replacing it more often with the word "prejudiced" would maintain that rhetorical power yet still shame non-racists for saying stupid things. I dunno; all this semantic parsing is making my head hurt. So, in sum: overusing "racist" can be counterproductive.

(Since I don't think this post offers much illumination, below is another perspective from a Dish reader. I fundamentally disagree with him, but I think he offers some decent food for thought.)

There is a word that is almost as insulting to whites as the n-word is to blacks, and it is not "racist."

That word is "redneck." It is an insult to be called a "redneck" and it applies only to white people. To call someone a "redneck" is to call them rural, unsophisticated, poorly educated, lower class, ill-mannered, racist, and Southern by cultural or birth, even if the person is not any of those things. All of these characteristics are somehow regarded in our society as "less than" urban, cosmopolitan, well-educated, middle or upper class, well manner, post-racist, and anything but Southern. A person who is called a "redneck" knows they have been insulted.

I am a white male, urban, cosmopolitan, well-educated, middle class, well-mannered. I work hard at defeating racism in my life and try to treat all persons with dignity and respect whether or not it is returned. But I am also a Southerner by birth and, although I have lived outside of the South for 20 years, "redneck" still makes be bristle with indignity. Certainly, when someone learns I am a native Southerner, there first impulse is to wonder, sometimes out loud, whether or not I am a "redneck."

I wonder when this vulgar, insulting word will be condemned by the white, male, urban, cosmopolitan, well-educated, middle class, well-mannered folks who use it so often, so easily.

Hasta La Vista

by Conor Friedersdorf

Thanks are due to Andrew for asking me to guest blog, to Patrick and Chris for their characteristically superb work keeping everything running smoothly, to my estimable co-guest bloggers Conor Clarke and Robert Wright, and to Dish readers, the most enjoyable audience in the blogosphere for whom to write. It is a pleasure to receive feedback so thoughtful from an audience so diverse.

Should anyone want to keep up with my writing, I'll be back at The American Scene for now, alongside a wonderful group of co-bloggers. And I've also got a project going at True/Slant where I pick a different blog each week and write about it. (As always, Dish readers are free to contact me for any reason at conor dot friedersdorf at gmail dot com.)

Whenever you return, Andrew, welcome back. We're all looking forward to it.

Outing Iran: Masters Of Persian Music

by Chris Bodenner

A reader writes:

If you're interested in serious Persian classical music, then the group Masters of Persian Music is absolutely outstanding. They've released a number of superb albums (available over iTunes and in Borders bookstores), and there are many recordings of them available on Youtube. This Youtube clip is from a concert organized in memory of the victims of the earthquake that devastated the city of Bam in 2003.

Neuroaesthetics

by Patrick Appel

Jonah Lehrer explains "the attempt to interpret art through the prism of neuroscience." A paragraph that caught my eye:

Studies show we're able to recognize visual parodies of people⎯like a cartoon portrait of Richard Nixon⎯faster than we're able to recognize an actual photograph of Nixon. Brain imaging experiments demonstrate that the fusiform gyrus, an area involved in facial recognition, responds more eagerly to caricatures than to real faces, as the cartoons emphasize the very features that we use to distinguish one face from another. (In the case of Nixon, cartoonists tend to exaggerate his ski-slope of a nose.) In other words, the abstractions are like a peak-shift effect, turning the work of art or the political cartoon into a "super-stimulus."