From The Archive: The First View From Your Window

View_smw

Los Angeles, California, 4.47 am.

It was posted on May 22, 2006, accompanied by the following post:

One of the strange things about having a blog, especially a one-man outfit like this one, is that, over time, you get to find out more about me, but not much about each other. Yes, you get to read some of the smartest emails on the web, but you don’t get to know who your fellow-readers are, where they live, what they do, what they see as they look out their window each morning. I get a little sense of it from the roughly 500 emails I get a day. But it’s still opaque.

Hence this idea, which may be nuts or inspired. We’ll find out. This week, get out your digital cameras, and take a picture of the view from your window. It can be your living room window, bathroom window, car-window or office view. If you’re serving in the military, or traveling, it can be just the view from where you’re standing or sitting. Email it to me, put “View From My Window” in the contents line, and I’ll post as diverse and as interesting an array of reader photos as I can all week. Just send it via the email option on the right, include the place and the time of day. By place, I mean town, state or county, and country. If you live outside America, I’d love to capture some of the exotic places I often get email from. Special treatment for those of you in the military, wherever you are. No names will be given: this blog’s rule of reader anonymity will remain. And by sending it, you give me the right to publish it. So show me – and every other reader – your world. Don’t pretty it up; just show it as it is – a glimpse through the looking glass of a blog, at the world its readers live in.

To see the resulting first week of reader photos, go to this Dish page. As you will notice, many of the initial VFYWs featured animals and rainbows, which are banned from the feature nowadays. And very few of the earliest VFYWs contain a portion of the window frame inside the photo frame – a requisite for the feature now.  Money quote from the end of that week:

This feature is officially over, but I had so many sublime or touching submissions that I didn’t post I’m going to publish a few of the remainders over the coming weeks, every now and again. Please don’t send me any more. It took most of my weekend to download and organize just the hundreds I received. I now have one week’s worth of images from around the world – an astonishing display of the web’s power and diversity. When I get a minute, I’m going to find a way to gather them all together and publish them somehow – either on the web or on paper. So stay tuned.

An Abortion Horror Story, Ctd

Sarah Posner, like Irin Carmon, argues that the press did cover the Gosnell case:

Is Gosnell’s trial getting the same level of coverage on cable as, say, the Jodi Arias trial? No. But that’s a question about the media’s priorities in general, rather than some sort of ideologically-driven fear that the pro-choice position would be exposed. Proponents of safe, legal abortion do not fear any light shed on this awful episode. To the contrary, they were some of the first to condemn Gosnell when the details of a grand jury report were made public in January 2011 and Gosnell was first charged.

Drum points out that most of the right-wing media wasn’t covering the Gosnell trial until recently:

Why hasn’t the Gosnell trial caught on nationally? Beats me. I’ve often wondered just what it is that causes some local crime stories to become media sensations and others to molder in obscurity. But the interest of the conservative press is pretty obvious, and it has little to do with the grisly nature of the case itself. After all, they’ve been well aware of the Gosnell trial all along, because both Breitbart.com and conservative pro-life sites have been covering it extensively. Despite this, they barely mentioned it themselves. Obviously, even conservative editors didn’t it consider it newsworthy on a national scale. Their outrage only kicked into high gear when they spied an opportunity to pretend that this was a story about the liberal media ignoring a grisly abortion story.

Allahpundit weighs in:

[I]f Gosnell’s actually a case study in why we need more higher-end clinics, not less, why hasn’t the media been using him to that effect since he was indicted? Why a blackout instead? You know why: Because no one who sees that picture of the baby with its neck sliced thinks, “We need to make this easier, and to make the slicing happen a bit earlier in development.” The blackout strategy was smart. It just didn’t work.

Ambers urges readers to think “about the many different ways in which the failure to catch Gosnell’s horrible practices early enough represents significant systemic failures that have little to do with abortion”:

If it were easier and more socially accepted to get safer and earlier abortions in Pennsylvania, the demand for his services wouldn’t be as high. Cutting funds for Planned Parenthood and other providers with reputations for medical excellence means that more people will seek the modern day equivalent of back-alley abortions. Also, if health care inequalities weren’t as pronounced, doctors like Gosnell would be kicked out of the market much earlier, or discovered much earlier.

Ed Krayewski’s view:

The case of Dr. Kermit Gosnell, horrific on its own, is not helpful as a stand-in or argument in the wider debate about abortion and reproductive rights (because what he did is already illegal), just as the case of Adam Lanza, horrific on its own, is not helpful as a stand-in or argument in the wider debate about personal safety and gun rights (because what he did is already illegal).

And McArdle admits that she should have paid more attention to the case:

I knew about the Gosnell case, and I wish I had followed it more closely, even though I’d rather not. In fact, those of us who are pro-choice should be especially interested. The whole point of legal abortion is to prevent what happened in Philadelphia: to make it safer and more humane. Somehow that ideal went terribly, horribly awry. We should demand to know why.

A Vatican Spring?

francisshadow

That was Hans Kung’s hope before the recent Conclave. It seemed somewhat naive to me at the time – but naivete in the face of the workings of the Holy Spirit is a good thing for Catholics to have. And we will certainly have to wait some time before we can assess whether the signs of reform become reality in any tangible fashion.

But we can say this much: almost every single action and statement from the new pontiff signals a radical departure from the past 44 years of the Wojtila-Ratzinger church. My favorite unofficial story about the new Pope was relayed to me by hearsay. But at the moment before he was to appear as the new Pope, he was allegedly presented with the papal mozzetta – the big red cape his predecessor loved to wear and an increasing must for any aspiring priest of bishop for the last decade (it had seasonal variations). He turned to the Vatican official who tried to put it on him, waved him away with one hand and said, simply, “Carnevale e finito.” The carnival is over.

Is it? That is the question. Is the Wojtila-Ratzinger era of reaction coming to an end?

You can see the theoconservative religious project from 1979 – 2013 rather as you might the neoconservative political project in the same years. After a major and arguably necessary course correction in the 1980s, by the first decade of the new millennium, the two isms had ended where isms always do: on earth. The theoconservative project ended in a collapse of the church’s moral authority inside the beadazzled Liberace outfits of its intellectual architect, Joseph Ratzinger. The neoconservative project ended in the blood and sands of Mesopotamia.

Benedict claimed he’d bring Europe back to the faith using the sublime, pristine self-evidence of a “new” natural law and the total authority of the Bishop of Rome. But after global rock-star version of the papacy under John Paul II had faded, the increasingly extremist and fastidious orthodoxy that he and Ratzinger had innovated lost altitude fast. It had been propped up by charisma, an evanescent form of authority. And when the prissy Inquisitor, Benedict XVI – with no popular appeal – inherited this mess, he gradually, gaffe after gaffe, fashion accessory after fashion accessory, disappeared beneath his meticulous vast wardrobe. He resigned for reasons we may never fully know – but after an internal dossier on church abuse – financial and sexual – had laid out his failure in stark terms. But he had ceased exercising any moral authority for most Catholics long before that.

All of that project required re-establishing the papacy as something the Second Council had explicitly disavowed: a near-dictator in theological and political and social debate. Conversations were silenced; debates ended; theologians silenced. Vatican II’s insistence on equal authority for scripture and for the laity of the church alongside the papacy were slowly downplayed, while restoring the Pope as some kind of medieval queen – down to the ermine and jewels and over-starched lace – was the objective. In his early years, John Paul II carried all before him in a sweep of drama. But he was to the papacy what Diana was to the monarchy. In the end, he was a dazzling distraction from reality, not a reinvention of it. It was under John Paul II that the rape of children became truly endemic, the cover-up the worst.

The establishment of a global council of advisers – a kind of global cabinet to counteract the Vatican bureaucracy and take the Pope down a notch or two is, in that context, a huge move:

The Italian church historian Alberto Melloni, writing in the Corriere della Sera, called it the “most important step in the history of the church for the past 10 centuries”. For the first time, a pope will be helped by a global panel of advisers who look certain to wrest power from the Roman Curia, the church’s central bureaucracy. Several of the group’s members will come to the job with a record of vigorous reform and outspoken criticism of the status quo. None has ever served in the Italian-dominated Curia in Rome and only one is an Italian: Giuseppe Bertello, the governor of the Vatican City State.

You need not have dramatic doctrinal change – and I don’t expect any on the issues that the Western laity has already moved on from. But you could have real institutional change. Here are my benchmarks: if Bergoglio closes or insists on total transparency for the Vatican Bank; if he defrocks leading bishops and cardinals who have been implicated in any way in the cover-up of child molestation, regardless of statutes of limitations; and if he allows the question of priestly celibacy to be revisited. He has chosen a collegial manner, but he is well known as a decisive man who makes up his own mind and exhibits few qualms about enforcing it.

All of this requires some patience and vigilance. But I fail to see how this new Pope could have more dramatically demonstrated that he intends to move the church away from the last forty years. Where he will lead it is anyone’s guess. But I’m merely relieved there seems to be a recognition that the Benedict path was, in many ways, a dead end. And the church must find new life again – in service to the poor, the sick, the lonely, the imprisoned and the outsider. It must get out of itself and into the world. And it’s happening.

(Photo: Pope Francis stands in the pontiff’s library on April 11, 2013 at the Vatican. By Alessandro Di Meo/AFP/Getty Images.)

An Abortion Horror Story, Ctd

A reader writes:

I think you should post something about how the media is not deliberately covering up the Dr. Gosnell case. In fact, several media outlets have been covering it since 2011, as detailed by Irin Carmon.

Another writes:

Regarding the Gosnell case, I’m in the Philadelphia region, so I was a little baffled by the claims of a lack of coverage. The detailed descriptions have been in the local news for some time, so all of this is old news. But I also read a lot of blogs/journals from the left, where it’s been discussed a lot. Heck, Patrick had a good post back in 2011 for the Dish, citing several other posts talking about it.

The distinction is that while there may be a lack of coverage by national mainstream media outlets at this time (I’ve seen posts from 2011 from NYT, CNN and others), the interesting part is that the idea that the MSM is part of a vast left-wing conspiracy. The left has been all over this story since the beginning. But for many, there is no distinction between the left and the so-called “liberal media”, so when they turn on CNN and don’t see any mention of the story on this particular day, it’s clear to them the liberals are burying this story.

Also, Ross Douthat made some interesting points about how people on the various sides of the issue are treating it in a general sense. I normally roll my eyes at his analysis, but I may have to rethink how I read him going forward given how thoughtful his approach is at the moment.

Another focuses on what the Gosnell story means for the abortion debate:

As someone who favors womens’ access to safe, affordable, and legal abortion, but who also favors added restrictions the closer the pregnancy has come to term, I wonder about another angle to this story.  As more and more state governments seek ways around Roe v. Wade to shut down their last abortion providers, and those that remain are subject to constant extra-legal intimidation, I’m afraid that more and more women will be exposed to the Kermit Gosnells of the world when they can no longer access facilities run by Planned Parenthood or similar well-regulated providers.

Another is more direct:

When abortion is legal, it’s one of the safest medical procedures out there. When it’s made illegal and pushed underground, Gosnell is what happens. Women become desperate and will do anything, include risk their lives with an unlicensed provider, to be not pregnant. This is what pro-choice activists are fighting AGAINST. We are just as horrified as so-called “pro-life” supporters about what Gosnell did. However, OUR policies will prevent it from happening again. Anti-abortion policies encourage it.

Another comes from a very different direction:

In reference to your “It’s So Personal” series on the matter, I think it is important to point something out: The difference between what Gosnell did to the babies, and what George Tiller did, was merely a matter of inches.  Where Gosnell fully extracted the child before severing the spine, Tiller only did partial extractions before the “snip” – so as not to be accused of murder.  Like you, I am opposed to abortion but I can live in a world where it’s legal in early term.  But in the barbarity of what needs to be done to terminate a 3rd trimester pregnancy, I see no difference between Tiller and Gosnell.  Just because Tiller had a clean clinic and treated the mothers with dignity and care does not excuse what boils down to simple infanticide.  Both men are monsters.

Update from a reader:

Your reader who insisted that the difference between Tiller and Gosnell is “a matter of inches” ignores that Tiller took patients with third trimester pregnancies who met legal standards for abortion, i.e., who carried fetuses with severe or fatal birth defects or who faced a “substantial and irreversible impairment of a major bodily function” as result of the pregnancy certified independently by two other doctors, while Gosnell, on the evidence, seems to have taken desperate, often poor patients with late pregnancies but apparently no medical need, and failed to treat them by any proper medical standard. The anti-abortion movement wants desperately to make this about the possibly viable baby, but the legality depends upon whether the pregnant woman is receiving appropriate medical care.

The saddest part for me is that so many of Gosnell’s patients were women who had to save money for an abortion and missed the cut-off for standard medical abortion. I used to think of abortion as a moral issue, but the more time I spend working in poor neighborhoods, the more I realize that birth control and abortion is primarily an economic issue for poor women, who can’t afford to miss work, to take time off from jobs, to pay for a larger family. The stories from Gosnell’s clinic are heartbreaking, but the right ought to see this outrageous moral failure as the consequence of a series of smaller failures.

Is It “Too Soon To Tell” On Iraq? Nope.

People Pay Their Respects To The Country's War Dead At Arlington National Cemetery's Section 60

Paul Wolfowitz isn’t ready to declare the Iraq War a failure:

It may be a long time before we really know the outcome of the Iraq war. To put that in perspective, consider that the Korean armistice was signed 60 years ago, but South Korea struggled for decades after that. Even after 30 years, only an extreme optimist would have predicted that South Korea today would not only have one of the world’s most successful economies but also a democratic political system that has successfully conducted six free and fair presidential elections over the last 25 years.

So too, it may be many years before we have a clear picture of the future of Iraq, but we already do know two important things. An evil dictator is gone, along with his two equally brutal sons, giving the Iraqi people a chance to build a representative government that treats its people as citizens and not as subjects. And we also know that Americans did not come to Iraq to take away its oil or to subjugate the country. To the contrary, having come to remove a threat to the United States, Americans stayed on at great sacrifice and fought alongside Iraqis in a bloody struggle against the dark forces that sought to return the country to a brutal tyranny. Iraqis rarely get enough credit for their own heroism in that struggle, but roughly 10,000 members of the Iraqi security forces are estimated to have died in that fight (twice the American total) in addition to tens of thousands of Iraqi civilians.

It’s a testament to the power of ideology and pride that Wolfowitz is actually still using the South Korea example. South Korea. How many sectarian divisions are there? Was not the war there in order to prevent Communist take-over of the entire peninsula? What possibly equivalent threat existed in sanctioned, impoverished Iraq? There is not a single sentence of personal accountability in the entire piece, not even a flicker of conscience about what his utopianism wrought. His only mention of Abu Ghraib, where torture policies authorized by his own president were exposed, destroying the entire moral case for the war, is about Abu Ghraib under Saddam. No apology for the death of a hundred thousand Iraqis because of a bungled operation. No apology for torture. No apology for sending thousands of Americans to die so that the new Shiite prime minister could actually cancel the coming elections in two critical Sunni areas: Anbar and Nineveh, as the sectarianism Wolfowitz insisted was over by 2003 still somehow consumes a country he never understood. No:

What did require a U.S. apology—which the ambassador to Iraq, Jim Jeffrey, offered in the Fall of 2011—was the failure to assist the Shia uprising in 1991, in the aftermath of Saddam’s defeat in Kuwait.

At this point, you realize you’re dealing with someone psychologically ill-equipped to reflect with even the slightest sense of responsibility on the carnage and chaos his self-righteousness wrought. He’s back to the exhausted tropes of 2002, when he last had even the faintest credibility, repeating them as if, by some magic, they will make his catastrophic error of judgment less obvious. One wonders: when exactly did Wolfowitz have his sense of shame surgically removed? Did Allan Bloom help him out? James Joyner disagrees with Wolfowitz’s view of the US’ motives:

[R]oughly 4712 Americans were killed fighting in Iraq—which is to say, 98 percent of all Americans killed fighting in Iraq—after Saddam’s regime was out of power. 94 percent of the total American KIA died after his sons were killed. 88 percent were lost after Saddam was captured, no threat to return to power, and no longer a plausible cause for the fabled “regime holdouts” to rally around. Even after Saddam was hanged, another 1548 Americans died.

From this, I would conclude that American war aims were something other than merely toppling Saddam’s regime, making sure his “equally brutal sons” did not replace him, or even assuring that Saddam was brought to justice. Because, otherwise, we could have gotten out with only 92 dead American troopers.

Larison draws a key distinction:

Wolfowitz claims that it “may be a long time before we really know the outcome of the Iraq war,” but that’s a very silly thing to say. It may be a long time before we can assess the full historical significance of the Iraq war. That’s true of any major event that happens in one’s own lifetime, to say nothing of a war. Andrew Bacevich addressed that question here, and suggested that the Iraq war might prove to be no more significant over the long term than the War of 1812 was for the later history of the United States. The Iraq war was unnecessary, appallingly destructive, and extremely stupid, but perhaps the most damning thing that will be said about it one day in the future is that it ultimately didn’t matter very much. The outcome of the Iraq war is much more straightforward: it was a costly, wasteful failure. It advanced no concrete American interests, and instead did real harm to U.S. security. Then again, that was clear to some of us over eight years ago.

And yet Wolfowitz is incapable of intellectual evolution, let alone moral responsibility. In fact he’s still blaming Shinseki for speaking the obvious: that we needed 300,000 troops to invade and retain order. Yes: all these years later and Wolfowitz is still dreaming that if only he had controlled everything … then the very fantasies he concocted would have come true. And his main point now? That the US should be more involved in the internal sectarian clusterfuck of Syria. Here’s Wolfowitz’s version of atonement:

“I realise these are consequential decisions. It’s just that they’re consequential both ways.”

The word weasel springs to mind.

(Photo: A sun-bleached flower sticker is adhered to U.S. Army Captain Russell B. Rippetoe’s headstone in Arlington Cemetery’s Section 60 on the 10th anniversary of the beginning of the war in Iraq March 19, 2013 in Arlington, Virginia. Rippetoe was killed in a suicide bombing at a checkpoint near the Hadithah Dam northwest of Baghdad, Iraq. He was the first soldier killed in Operation Iraqi Freedom to be buried at Arlington National Cemetery. By Chip Somodevilla/Getty Images)

Does Your Backyard Smell Like Semen?

If so, hopefully it’s just the Callery Pear, “a deciduous tree that’s common throughout North America” which “blossoms in early spring and produces beautiful, five-petaled white flowers—that smell like semen”:

I said that Callerys are “common”: A preposterous understatement.

In Manual of Woody Landscape Plants, which is for horticulturists what the DSM is for psychotherapists, Michael Dirr says that the Bradford Pear—a Callery cultivar—inhabits “almost every city and town to some degree or another” and warns that “the tree has reached epidemic proportions.” There’s one between my apartment and my favorite coffee shop in Brooklyn, and there’s probably one between your apartment and your favorite coffee shop. The last time New York’s Parks Department conducted a tree census, from 2005 to 2006, there were 63,600 Callery Pears, making it the third-most popular species in the city, after the London Planetree and the Norway Maple. …

The way I see it, there’s weirdly little attention paid to the fact that, for a few weeks each year, there’s a good chance your street smells like semen. We just carry on as if that were normal.

Update from a reader:

My high school in the southeastern US was covered in bradford pear trees. The rumor was that the school administration had wanted to plant dogwoods all over the campus but found the price too steep, so they bought the pears instead (which do indeed look similar to a certain kind of dogwood.) In different versions of the story, the administrators either didn’t know what the trees smelled like when they bloomed, or did know and couldn’t care less. Either way, the smell was definitely not lost on us, though depending on the tree or time of year (I was never sure which) the smell kind of runs the gamut between semen and old fish. Regardless, it’s an unpleasant biological odor.

We of course did what any industrious high school students would do, gathering up grocery bags full of the fallen blossoms and then dumping them unexpectedly into idling buses at the end of the day, or shoving them through the slats of someone’s locker.

Another:

Thank you for clearing up what has been a two-decades-long puzzle for me, ever since my early teen years when I gained a reference point for the strange smell of those trees ;)  My high school, or perhaps the neighborhood around it, must have been filled with Callery Pears, because every spring the whole campus would start smelling funny and yet nobody ever seemed to notice, or would pretend to have no idea what I was talking about when I mentioned that the air smelled like cum.

That was the weirdest thing to me – that everyone just ignored it even though I know they noticed it, and they pretended to have no idea what I was talking about.  Right, as if a bunch of teenage boys don’t know what semen smells like.  It all made me feel like I was in some kind of X-rated Twilight Zone episode …  that, or I was crazy and/or perverted, which was the unfortunate reaction I got when I mentioned the phenomenon to a girl I liked.  And trust me, she knew what I was talking about.

Anyways, I’ve been baffled by this annually for as long as I’ve been ejaculating, and I had chalked it up to either a strange hormone-induced brain trick or male gingko trees (which, I think, are the ones that smell like vomit).  Thanks for finally putting my mind at ease.

(Photo by Flickr user slgckgc)

Germs For Sale

All over your grocery store:

There’s yogurt, of course, but there’s so much else. You can buy pills for your gutcreams for your facetablets for your breath. You can buy blueberry juice with germs, and pizza with germs.

But none of the products are scientifically proven:

While the microbiomes of humans are similar to one another, each of us has a mix of species and strains that’s unique–a mix that also changes from day to day. That variability makes it hard to say that adding in one particular species is going to make a different to anyone who’s sick with a particular disease. Even an exquisitely rare microbe might play a crucial part in the overall ecosystem.

None of these hurdles has blocked the growth of the business of the microbiome. But the $8.7 billion industry has thrived because the microbiome occupies a fuzzy middle ground in the regulatory landscape. Purveyors of germ-loaded products can vaguely hint that their wares will bring you medical benefits. But to the U.S. government, their products are not, officially speaking, medicine. They’re food or cosmetics. It’s possible that the bottle of probiotics you buy in the drug store really will help your digestion, or your immune system, or your bad breath. But it’s also possible that the bacteria you’re buying will get annihilated in the ruthless jungle that is your body.

Update from a reader:

I love the variety of topics on your site. On germs and probiotics, there is a lot of bad science going on out there and a lot of dumb products on the market (I am sick to death of Jamie Lee Curtis discussing her digestive issues on TV). But I have had my own experience with our microscopic hangers-on and I have to give a shout out re: the usefulness of the right probiotic.

I switched toothpaste brands a few years back, after having used a particular brand for a decade or so (the fizzy kind with peroxide in it). Switching to a non-peroxide hippy brand, I started having sores in the corners of my mouth that would not heal. Assumed it was a cold or canker sore, tried all the OTC remedies – no dice. Went to see the doc, who told me I had angular cheilitis – which can be caused by all kinds of things, but often it’s a bacterial or yeast overgrowth. I tried the medicine she prescribed, it sort of worked but the sores kept coming back.

Finally I tried some oral probiotics, meant to aid with breath odor and tooth health, and what do you know. Gone. I assume that the foamy peroxide stuff had been killing off my normal mouth flora for years (good and bad), and once I stopped killing everything, something icky took over. Once I repopulated with some helpful little guys I haven’t had any more problems – my gums look healthier too, my dentist has said. It would seem that probiotics (the right ones, for the right problem) can help.

“A Mystery To Be Lived”

Barry Lenser praises Rod Dreher’s just-released book about his sister’s struggle with cancer, their complicated relationship, and the small-town her illness and death brought him back to:

The Little Way of Ruthie Leming is a book of real pain and real tragedy. Unlike a conventional Hollywood screenplay, the story doesn’t proceed inevitably to a tidy, feel-good conclusion. Here, the stakes are high, and you can’t escape the overwhelming sense of regret and sadness. Imagine having a tortured relationship with someone you love, and then that person dies thinking you were a “fraud” of some kind.

To the benefit of this book, Dreher doesn’t obsess over the question “why”, pursuing a resolution where one can’t be found. Rather, he submits, after some consideration, to the unknown. He describes his and Ruthie’s fallen relationship as “a mystery to be lived”. As with the question of theodicy, which briefly comes up, he doubts that having an explanation would actually ease his mind.

In an age that demands answers and seeks mastery over life’s details, Dreher instead humbled himself before the wonder and uncertainty of the human experience. He didn’t find full peace by acknowledging his powerless position, but it did help him to achieve a measure of clarity. There’s a lesson here to ponder. To embrace what we can’t know isn’t a display of weakness. It’s a recognition of our limited purview.

Yuval Levin’s glowing review, which we noted Friday, deserves a second look:

If, like me, you live very far away from the place you were born, you will at times find this book almost unbearably difficult to read. But only almost, because you will also find in it a moving affirmation of the sense that most of us can only discern rarely and vaguely in the bustle of our daily lives—the sense that beyond our petty vanities and momentary worries, beyond arguments and ambitions, beyond even principles and ideals, there is a kind of gentle, caring warmth that is really what makes life worth living. It is expressed through the words and acts of people who rise above themselves, but it seems to come from somewhere deeper. Maybe it’s divine, maybe it isn’t, but it’s real, and it effortlessly makes a mockery of a lot of what goes by the name of moral and political philosophy, and especially of the radical individualism that is so much a part of both the right and the left today. And it’s responsible for almost everything that is very good in our very good world. If I had to define what conservatism ultimately means for me, it would be the preservation and reinforcement of the preconditions for the emergence of that goodness in a society of highly imperfect human beings.

The book made Justin Green cry – “not watery-eyed man-tears, but unashamed weeping.” It also reminded him of his own Nebraskan upbringing and his love-hate relationship to the small town he left behind:

All of it was for us: the stifling nature, the insistence that everyone should know everything about everyone, that we should all be hyperinvolved in a slew of activities that had little to do with us, the small talk, and the identification of people by family instead of individual personality. That’s all by design, it’s all because of love, and it’s something I’m glad I got to experience. It’s community, and most kids my age will never know what that really means. I don’t like my hometown. But I do love it, because it – in its own infuriating way – taught me the most important lesson in life: you haven’t grown up until you care about someone else more than yourself.

Converting To Atheism

In a recent interview, Susan Jacoby described how and why people become atheists:

[U]nless you’re raised atheist, people become atheists just as I did, by thinking about the same things Augustine thought about. Certainly one of the first things I thought about as a maturing child was “Why is there polio? Why are there diseases?” If there is a good God why are there these things? The answer of the religious person is “God has a plan we don’t understand.” That wasn’t enough for me.

There are people who don’t know anything about science. One of the reasons I recommend Richard Dawkins’s book, The God Delusion, is that basically he explains the relationship between science and atheism. But I don’t think people are really persuaded into atheism by books or by debates or anything like that. I think people become atheists because they think about the world around them. They start to search out books because they ask questions. In general, people don’t become atheists at a late age, in their 50s.

All of the atheists I know became atheists fairly early on. They became atheists in their adolescence or in their 20s because these are the ages at which you’re maturing, your brain is maturing, and you’re beginning to ask questions. If religion doesn’t do it for you, if, in fact, religion, as it does for me, contradicts any rational idea of how to live, then you become an atheist, or whatever you want to call it – an agnostic, a freethinker.

I’m currently working on a book on a history of religious conversion. One conversion narrative is always like Saul on the road to Damascus. A voice appears out of the sky, you fall off your horse, you hit yourself on the head, and when you wake up you know Jesus is the lord. That’s the classic sudden conversion narrative. It doesn’t happen that way with atheism. People don’t wake up one morning and say “Oh God! I’m an atheist.” You don’t fall off a horse and wake up and say “Oh! There’s no God. Ah. Now I know.” No. It’s more a slow questioning, if you were brought up religious, of whether those things make any sense.

Matter Over Mind

Priscella Long is disturbed by neuropsychologist Benjamin Libet’s experiment on human decision-making:

The decision was to move a hand. Each person was instructed to move his or her hand whenever the desire arose, to report the precise time this wish or intention to move the hand appeared, and then to go ahead and move the hand. Subjects sat in front of a clocklike face with a light going around like a minute hand, only faster, so that milliseconds could be reported.

The results had ominous suggestions for our idea of free will:

The [subjects’] decision to move the hand occurred in the following order. First neurons fired in the premotor cortex (neurons responsible for planning and executing hand motions). These neurons communicated to the motor cortex, which fired, sending instructions to the motor neurons in the spinal cord that make the muscles contract. At this point—and not before—the subject “decided” to move his or her hand. The “decision” to move the hand occurred before but extremely close to the time the hand moved, a long 350-400 milliseconds after the brain began the process of signaling the hand to move.

What are we to make of this? Is it me or my brain that decides things? [Author Christof] Koch writes, “At least in the laboratory, the brain decides well before the mind does; the conscious experience of willing a simple act—the sensation of agency or authorship—is secondary to the actual cause.”