About atheism, dogmatism, tolerance and spirituality

This is a follow-up to my previous blog on being an atheist in Catholic Cape Verde, to address some of the comments I have heard.

Some have suggested that atheists can be just as dogmatic as religious believers. I profoundly disagree. Here's why.

First of all, one must learn to see the difference between passion and dogmatism. An atheist may be passionate - but cannot, as I see it, be dogmatic.

To me, it is really a lot about tolerance and openness - the opposite being dogmatism. The only thing I really can't tolerate, is intolerance. One could also say that I am not dogmatically against anything - except dogmatism itself (in all it's forms - religion, nationalism, racism...). It may sound just like a twist of words, or even contradictive. But if you think twice about it, it should hopefully make some sense.

So, an atheist may be passionately convinced that there is no god, and he/she may passionately try to convince others. Even to a point when it might become annoying. At times, I get pretty agitated myself about this subject, and I am sure that one or two of my friends have found my efforts rather tiresome. BUT – and this is crucial – an atheist would never (unless he is mentally insane) use violence or even kill to convince others. He would use words and arguments and reason, not force or weapons or explosives tied to himself. Moreover, if you presented new real evidence, for, lets say gods existence, or a true religious miracle such as a virgin giving birth or so, an atheist would have to listen and consider, and eventually challenge his own conviction. With (relative) ease.

Dogmatic religious believers, on the other hand, whether Jews, Christians or Muslims, will not stop at anything to have their way. They will use oppression, force, violence, even death, even suicide for Christ’s sake (excuse the expression) to make others believe in their particular god. And why? Just because someone brainwashed them with a bunch of strange stories when they were kids, and because those same stories are scribbled down in an old book. Without a shred of real evidence. Moreover, dogmatic believers will never, ever, change their mind on their beliefs, regardless any evidence, regardless reason, regardless any argument. In fact, they even consider this rigidity a good thing – it’s called “true faith”.

And that's a HUGE difference.

Some have challenged this by pointing out that Hitler and Stalin were atheists. At a first glance, this might appear convincing. I don’t think it is convincing in any way. First of all, it is actually questionable if Hitler really was an atheist, some evidence actually suggest that he hade firm Catholic beliefs. But even if he was an atheist, it is actually irrelevant. Because the fact of the matter is that he did not do what he did to impose atheism! He did not try to force people to abandon their Christian beliefs. He did not kill people with the objective to convince them that there is no god. On the contrary! He actually USED the old religious conflict between Christians and Jews to help his political cause – which was to exterminate the Jewish people (for ever and ever doomed for “killing Jesus Christ”) for whatever OTHER twisted reasons he had. Without religion fueling the fire and the hatred, he would never have been so “successful” as he was in this regard.

Some also wonder if I don't miss spirituality in my life, assuming that religion and spirituality is the same thing. Well, in my mind, it's not.

I actually consider myself a spiritual atheist in some sense (which does not mean that I think that there is such a thing as an eternal “soul” or the like). There is a genius modern philosopher called Ken Wilber, who I have learned a lot from when it comes to spiritualism. His book “A brief history of everything” is nothing but mind-blowing. For those of you who are interested, check out his website: http://www.kenwilber.com/home/landing/index.html.

Being an atheist in catholic Cape Verde

Recently, a large sculpture was erected in Achada St Antonio in Praia, just by the ocean. The statue portrays the late Pope John Paul II, gazing out over the infinite sea with his arms gracefully lifted as if giving his blessings to anyone passing by. The area around the statue has been restored with stone paths and stairs, some greenery and a small children’s playground. It has become a popular family spot for the locals, especially in the evenings.

The choice to pay tribute to the Pope is not by chance, of course. According to statistics, a clear majority (some 90%) of Cape Verdeans are catholic Christians – no doubt a heritage from the colonial days the archipelago was under catholic Portuguese rule (in fact, when you think about it, isn’t it strange that Cape Verdeans did not want to oust the colonial religion along with the oppressors at the time of liberation?). There is also a protestant Christian community, as well as smaller communities of Baha’i and muslims.

My impression is that religion has a prominent, however not exceedingly dominating, role in the Cape Verdean society. People go regularly to church (every Sunday you will see large crowds of well-dressed people on their way to service), but most people I meet don’t say grace, they don’t pray to god openly, and they don’t seem to express religious disapproval of, for instance, abortion or the use of contraceptives. And unlike in the USA, it appears that a Cape Verdean politician can actually run for office with success even if he or she does not openly declare a Christian belief. All in all, my impression is that Cape Verde is fairly secular. Surprisingly so.

Nevertheless, I have yet to meet a fellow atheist in Cape Verde. When occasionally I feel obliged to reveal my (lack of) beliefs, and tell them that I am genuinely convinced that there is no such thing as a god (or any other supernatural entity for that matter), Cape Verdeans usually show great surprise, even disbelief. They seem to wonder how it is even possible not to believe in god. Still, I have never felt any outspoken intolerance or disrespect; my conviction seems to be accepted (if not understood) – maybe in the same way as they accept all my other strange foreign behaviors and traits such as treading around in mountain slopes, always insisting on using seatbelts in the car, appreciating raw herring in mustard sauce and being very strict not to drink-and-drive.

In contrast to Cape Verde, my native country Sweden (albeit historically being a Christian country since the 11^th century) is nowadays probably one of the most secular and non-religious countries in the world. A relatively high number (75%) of Swedes are formally members to the state church, but this is mostly due to the fact that, until 1996, all children became members automatically at birth. Currently, the Swedish church is losing about 1% of members every year, and less than 10% regularly attend church service. According to a poll made in 2005 by the Eurobarometer, only 23% of the Swedes believe that there is a god, and equally many (23%) do not believe in any god at all. Interestingly, a majority (54%) would rank somewhere in-between, believing that there is some sort of spirit or life force, but no god in the Christian sense.

My own path to atheism began early on. Even in secular Sweden, and brought up in a non-religious family, I was however somewhat indoctrinated by Sunday school and other influences, and I do recall praying to god from time to time when I went to bed (“Please dear God, let my math teacher be sick tomorrow so that I won’t have to take the test”). I also remember vividly a bus filled with some strange people, parked at the school yard for a whole week, using munchies, guitar music and convincing smiles to lure innocent children inside during breaks to “learn about the word of God”. In fact, I believe that I spent quite significant time in that bus, and it might be just pure luck that I escaped from that experience without being sucked in to some Christian sect (I still can’t believe that that bus was actually allowed to park in the school yard).

While by no means actively religious in my early years, I first came to seriously doubt the existence of god when preparing for my communion at 13 years of age. It came as somewhat of a surprise to me that nobody, including the priest himself, was nowhere near of adequately addressing even my most sensible and basic questions about Christianity, such as “who or what created god?”, “if god created everything, why did he create the Devil?”, “what will happen to all of those that never hear of the Christian god, will they burn in hell?”, “what sense does it make that Jesus suffered and died in the most horrible way to cleanse other people’s sins?” etc. As a consequence, I discontinued my bible studies halfway, to the surprise of my (secular) parents and to the dismay of my (Christian) grandparents. Even if it meant that I therefore didn’t get any precious communion gift (typically a moped), as did most of my classmates.

I have always been fascinated by life philosophy, religion and the possible existence of a god, and I still am. (If you are interested in my specific view of the “meaning of life”, have a look at my previous blog on this subject ). For a long time I used to call myself an agnostic, simply because I didn’t think that I knew enough to conclude for certain that god did not exist – regardless the fact that I actually found it exceedingly unlikely. As a student of natural science at secondary school and university, I chose biology as my main subject and became familiar with Darwin’s brilliant theory of evolution, which I found very captivating, even philosophically. (I now understand that there is a good reason that religious fanatics want to ban certain education; it is because these competing theories for the existence and development of life on earth are so much more convincing than what is found in the bible and other so called holy books.)

With all this new knowledge, my conviction that there are other and much more plausible theories to enlighten us on the classic existential “inexplicables”, such as the origin of life, what happens after death, the meaning of life etc, than some kind of simplistic “higher presence” (or however people want to describe god). Thanks to Richard Dawkins’ books “The Selfish Gene” and the “The Blind Watchmaker”, my certainty grew even stronger, and when I finally read his latest book “The god Delusion”, I realized with much clarity, and indeed inspiration, my true nature as an atheist, previously concealed under the inaccurate label of agnosticism.

In my opinion, “The God Delusion” is actually one of the most important philosophical contributions to mankind ever made on the subject of science, religion, evolution and rational thought. The argumentation put forward by Dawkins against god’s existence is so convincing, and at the same time so clear and simple, that it is hard to see how anyone, even the most rigid religious believer, could disagree with its main message (then again, dogmatic believers would of course never read it to start with). For me, the book is a real landmark when it comes to finding genuine comfort with the idea that god’s existence is decidedly implausible, as well as (generally speaking) malevolent for mankind.

As Dawkins rightly points out, we are all atheist in some sense – we have all come to denounce ancient gods like the Nordic “Thunder god” Thor, the Greek “Sea God” Poseidon, the Mayan “Winged God” Quatzequatel, and the Egyptian “Sun God” Ra. I personally hope that we one day we will see this trend completed: we would then have world rid of divine misconceptions.

Imagine that – a world based on rational argument, reason and evidence, instead of being guided by a groundless “faith” deriving from some books written by old men some thousand years ago, arbitrarily interpreted to fit our modern society (just as one small example, there is a fierce debate among religious scholars in Denmark on whether the church should denounce the idea of “hell”, which some consider has been completely “made up” in the middle ages). What would such a world look like? Well, to start with there would be no religious terrorism or suicide bombers, no depressing experience of “holy sins”, no religious child indoctrination, no women completely covered by black cloth, no doctors killed because they perform abortion, no disapproval of well established scientific knowledge (such as evolution, or the age of earth) that does not “fit” with the holy books, no banning of life-saving appliances such as contraceptives. And so forth – the list would go on and on and on.

While science can’t explain everything (yet, that is), it surely can explain a lot more, and by far more convincingly, than any religion can ever do. And, more importantly, science will never in itself make people fanatic enough to kill or harm another just because of their beliefs, as religion truly does (the actual use of scientific progress to promote violence, by for instance religious fanatics as well as others who wish to do harm, is a different matter). There is a reason that it is virtually impossible to picture a devoted scientist becoming a crusader, a militant Islamist or a suicide bomber.

On a final note, I recently had the most interesting discussion with a Cape Verdean woman on this subject. She, as many others, had a very hard time to actually come to terms with the fact that I really don’t believe in god, and she told me that she could show me plenty of evidence of god’s existence, referring e.g. to men who were pregnant, resurrected dead people, black magic and whatnot. I responded that I would be very willing to reconsider my atheistic conviction, if she could give me any kind of clear-cut scientific proof of the existence of any god. I then asked her if she would do the same; her response was that nothing I would say or do would ever make her change her mind about god’s existence. I think, in essence, that this little episode describes very well the difference between rational and superstitious beliefs – between reason and faith.

The power of language

Which main feature distinguishes humans from other advanced animals? Some would say the ability to make fire, some perhaps that we know how to use tools, others yet that humans might have some kind of “souls” which animals wouldn’t.

I would say – language; the ability to speak and communicate.

Just a few days ago, our two-year-old started to use a new expression from his quickly growing Portuguese vocabulary: “não pode”. Consider the power of those few words: “You may not”. And consider the difficulty if you couldn’t utter or understand them. Of course, little children have other ways of communication to express their will, but before they start talking it’s on a pretty basic level (after all, “uääääää” can mean a million things, sometimes confusing even the most ambitious of parents).

Seeing my little boy’s language skill develop as rapidly as it does makes me almost speechless (no pun intended). As we are both learning Portuguese for the moment, it is interesting to compare our abilities. And while it takes at least five repetitions for me to recall a new word in Portuguese, he will remember immediately. What is more; he somehow manages to learn THREE languages at one time. Depending on who is talking to him, he understands and uses either Portuguese/Kriulo (with Cape Verdeans), Finnish (with his mother) or Swedish (with me). Not that he realizes that it is in fact three languages – he simply adapts to the circumstance that different people call things differently. Sometimes he will even say the same thing in all three languages just to make sure that he is understood.

The desire to learn a language is surely one of the most powerful driving forces we have as human beings. According to the Harvard professor Steven Pinker, language is a human instinct, wired into our brains by evolution like web-spinning in spiders or sonar in bats. In several books, he has convincingly explained how evolution has led to our brains being genetically pre-programmed, just waiting to be filled with grammar and vocabulary at a very early stage in life.

And it makes sense, since language is an absolute precondition for our species to live and prosper on this planet. For one thing, it is by far the most efficient way to get something you want. If you cannot communicate what you want, chances are quite slim that you will get it. If you can’t tell people off, there is a big risk that they won’t stop. Therefore, children who learn languages early on will have an enormous payoff, even affecting their chances of survival. And the more languages we pick up as children, the better linguists we become as adults.

We can all relate to the lack of language skills, being unable to express ourselves properly or to understand what people are saying. It can be very frustrating. A good example of this was when our new car broke down in Cape Verde some months ago (see previous blog “My relationship with Toyota”). The local Toyota representative refused to accept the warranty, and it took a lot of time and effort to resolve the issue. I am convinced that this was mainly due to the fact that I didn’t speak Portuguese or Kriolu very well. With only basic knowledge of a language, it is almost impossible to explain and negotiate a case, put forward demands and claim rights. Language means power.

As another example, I have been working many years as an environmental negotiator, and one of the first things I realized was how important it was to use the diplomatic language. Regardless which language-base you use (English was mine), there is a set of fairly strict rules to apply – most of them unwritten – based on courtesy, formality and repetition. This skill is absolutely necessary in order to build agreements between constituencies with different cultures, traditions and priorities, since it creates trust and minimizes fear and disbelief. Diplomats who mastered this language got a lot of things done, whereas those who didn’t failed miserably. Again, language equals power.

But language is not only necessary to get what we want. I would claim that without a language, we would hardly know or understand anything. Imagine life without words and sentences. Try to form a concrete thought without a language. You can’t. And even if you could, what good would it be if you couldn’t share and communicate it with anyone? Without language, the world would be a complete blur of confusing and inexplicable impressions, without any possibility to differentiate or understand them. Probably it would be a very scary place. Understanding is about distinguishing and identifying, which simply can’t be done in any detail without a language.

Consider that we would have had no language at all. I don’t think we can even start to imagine what our lives would look like. A couple of weeks ago we could read in the papers about a woman who spent 19 years completely alone in a remote forest in Cambodia. What I found most intriguing about this story was that she spoke no language at all, and I can’t help wondering what this meant to her ability to understand herself and the surrounding world. As could be expected, the reports describe the woman as generally confused and terrified. Her comprehension will no doubt increase considerably however, if and when she learns a language.

Putting all of this into a Cape Verdean perspective, I realize two things.

First, the importance of preserving and developing the local language, Kriulo, as a corner stone of Cape Verdean culture and national identity. Optimally, Kriulo should be developed and become the formal language, to be used also in Cape Verdean law, governmental decisions etc.

Secondly, it seems to be a good idea to encourage more Cape Verdeans to learn other foreign languages (besides Portuguese). Tourists and investors alike, most of them will inevitably feel more comfortable in a country where they can communicate more easily.

Schools apparently have an important role in teaching 3^rd and 4^th languages. But I am also told that over half of Cape Verde’s population live abroad; many of them must necessarily speak English or French. Perhaps I am too bold, but what if all exile Cape Verdeans made a commitment to teach their foreign language to family and friends when they come home for visits, or that they sponsor foreign language classes in Cape Verde so that the rest of the family can learn their new language while they are away? I would think that this be one of the most efficient, cheapest and quickest ways to boost tourism and economic development in Cape Verde.

I, for my part, have started to give some simple English lessons to our guard, so that one day he might find a better job, perhaps as a guide. It’s a small step, but it’s something. Moreover, I will make an effort to learn kriolu, just like my son, so as to better understand the Cape Verdean culture – as well as my son! Kre papia kriolu...

On security, the human nature and moral principles

The following could be read on BBC News some days ago (extract):

“Two killed in Kenyan carjacking

Armed men shot dead two female passengers as they carjacked a US embassy vehicle near the Kenyan capital, Nairobi. At least one of the women appeared to have been shot for not getting out of the vehicle quickly enough. Carjackings are common in and around the Kenyan capital but they usually take place at night.”

When we started to look for a new posting abroad, we were seriously considering Nairobi as an option. We both love Kenya and its people; it is a truly amazing country. The main reason that we nevertheless didn’t pursue this in the end was related to safety. We knew that the rate of violent crime in Nairobi is very high. We were also aware that even if you are lucky enough not to be directly affected by the violence, your everyday life will become considerably restrained, living behind bars, hiring armed guards 24/7, and being forced to live with a constant fear – if not for your self, certainly for your family members. Adding to this the risk of being injured or killed in a traffic accident, the choice was clear.

Against this background, I was touched by the story of the two women. It could have been me and my family. The fact that someone can end the lives of two women just to get hold of a car is of course incomprehensible to most of us. And very frightening.

This is not only a problem in some developing countries. When I arrived to New York for my first UN meeting in the mid 90s, I was told to take great care, avoid certain areas and never walk alone during nighttime. Crime rates were surging, and New York was considered one of the most dangerous cities in the US, if not in the world. I used to think that the TV series the Hill Street Blues gave an accurate description of the crime scene in New York – and maybe it did. I recall being almost terrified one particular night when, convinced by a friend, we decided to go to a ragged night club somewhere in the Bronx.

Before and during the time we lived in New York (2000-2003) however, crime rates went down dramatically. New York nowadays is considered one of the safest mega-cities worldwide. Many give credit for this to the Mayor of New York at the time, Rudolph Giuliani, who was said to introduce an innovative law enforcement system to quench minor offenses and thereby eventually avoiding also heavy crimes. Others say that police tactics had little to do with it, and that the reduced crime was a consequence of increased economic wealth. Yet others would argue that the crime didn’t actually disappear at all, but only moved outside the city borders. I am not sure which account is more correct – perhaps all of them.

Cape Verde, our new temporarily permanent home, has a widespread (and generally very well deserved) reputation of being a friendly and peaceful place. Nevertheless, contrary to the general feeling of ease and safety actually experienced when moving around in Praia, security seems to have become an issue also here – be it on a very different scale than in Kenya. Burglaries and thefts are clearly on the rise, and we have heard numerous stories about people that have suffered from looting, pick-pocketing or break-ins. Also violence seems to be increasing. Recently, an 18 year old youth went home and grabbed a kitchen knife, went back to school and stabbed a class-mate to death in one of the gymnasiums in Praia. The event was the talk of the town last week, and most people seem to say that this deed would have been impossible some years ago. They see it as a striking sign of the rise of violence in Cape Verde.

I could be recalled that some decades ago, Nairobi was known to one of the safest countries in Africa. Could it be that Praia is taking a similar route as Nairobi? I would hope not. But the fact is that I write this text behind massive iron bars. Despite my aversion against prison-like homes, our office space, like the rest of the house, is heavily protected. Behind me, the small back yard is completely sheltered by high concrete walls, partly covered by glass and nails on top to avoid unwelcome visitors. Following the advice of the UN, we have hired (unarmed) guards almost 24/7, increased the height of the outer wall and changed the security lock.

Philosophically, all of this makes me wonder about the “true nature” of human beings. Are we murderous and selfish creatures, killing and injuring at will? Or are we kind and empathic, caring and generous at heart? And if we really are born generous and good-natured, how can we as humans carry out such atrocities as we apparently do, in so great numbers? How can in certain situations the most precious asset we have, human life, become of so little value?

As far as I can tell, people who commit crimes of the sort described above are driven by a sense of utter despair and hopelessness. Also, they probably believe they can do it with little or no consequence. I am quite convinced that man is born neither “good” nor “evil”, but becomes product of the society he is raised in. We are no doubt biologically predisposed in one direction or the other (just look at the obvious gender differences when it comes to the use of violence), but in the end I think we are all capable of being either Mother Theresa or Adolf Hitler, or anything in between. How we actually turn out will be the effect of the people we meet, the values we are taught and the society we learn to know.

I would also hold the view that all persons are responsible for their actions. A “bad childhood” can not excuse actions that bring suffering or death to another. Still, the question remains whether a person who has had no education or experience in moral values should be held fully responsible for actions that go against those values. Maybe this was the case in the Nairobi killings.

In order to seriously abate violence, you therefore need a society based on universally accepted moral principles that are effectively taught to and applied by everybody, as well as an efficient law enforcement system that puts those who violate these principles before justice. But this is far from enough. The same society also needs to nurture a sense of responsibility, integrity and empathy, and it must be founded on equal opportunities and inclusiveness. Otherwise, you will still find people desperate enough to commit violent crime, as an act of despair.

How then to define the correct moral principles? That is more difficult than one would think. I would, like the utilitarian philosopher Bentham, contest any set of pre-given or inherent moral principles, such as those deriving from the world religions or (however ingeniously) suggested by some other philosophers like Kant. Such principle would never work, since they are bound to be outdated, biased and skewed.

Rather, I would advocate a combined utilitarian and relativistic approach, using a consensus-building process to identify (and subsequently possibly revise) principles that universally minimizes fear for death and suffering.

In fact, such a set of principles already exists. The UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights (http://www.unhchr.ch/udhr/index.htm) was adopted by the UN General Assembly in 1948. I consider this the best attempt we have so far to lay down universal basic principles to guide our society morally. However, the Declaration is not legally binding, and any analysis of the state of the world today would conclude that it is far from fully applied or enforced everywhere – not even by some of the wealthiest and democratic states themselves. Nor is it taught to everyone. One day, hopefully, it will become fully integrated into national law in all countries, and a real source of security for all human beings.

As finalize this text, I learn from the internet that over 120 people have been killed due to a suicide bomber driving a truck with explosives into a crowded marketplace in Baghdad. Yet another act of incomprehensible, meaningless and callous violence. It is so easy to become cynical and to resign in the face of these cruelties – but that would be the same as to give in to the perpetrators of violence. For cynicism equals giving up hope, thereby indirectly contributing to continued violence.

The meaning of life - if any

2006 is soon coming to an end. And this blog is coming to a brand new start. Most of the contributons in this blog will probably be quite down to earth and linked to our everyday life as expats in Cape Verde. But what to write in this very first contribution? Why not start off by sharing some thoughts about the basic of basics - the of the so called "meaning of life". It could perhaps provide a foundation for the rest of this blog, to give an idea of where the author of this blog is coming from, on a more philisophical level. So, here it goes:

Human life has no inherent meaning - and, what is more, this circumstance also has no meaning.

Despite common beliefs, it is easy to see that the general notion of the so called “meaning of life” is always completely made up, either designed by yourself, or, in the case of religions, already designed by others as a pre-given “truth”.

While human life might in retrospect appear to be planned or meaningful, in reality, very little of what goes on in our lives is but a series of coincidental events.

Most people seem to prefer to attach a “meaning” to events in order to grasp all those coincidental things that just seem to happen to us, especially those that we don’t understand. We can in that sense be described as “meaning-making” machines. This might be a natural consequence of the fact that humans have the capacity to understand a lot, but not everything. At some point in time, we all realize that we don’t understand everything, and this realization makes us very uncomfortable. Therefore, we have a very strong driving force to “create” meanings.

The notion that life is meaningless seems to be very difficult for many people to accept; some, including most believers of the main world religions, would even say that life is not worth living if it has no meaning. Consequently, many seem to attach a major (negative) significance to the possibility that life has no meaning.

I would argue, however, that this circumstance – that life has no meaning – has in itself no meaning. It is not bad. It is not good. It just is (as a possibility). Interestingly, this second notion seems to be even more difficult for humans to grasp, or to accept. (Many classical existentialists, such as Sartre and his followers, are evidence of this as they tended to be very pessimistic about the conclusion that life has no meaning.)

The bad news about life having no meaning is that there is no “higher cause” or something “all-mighty" that lies behind the good and the bad things that happen to us and others. (Ever heard – and reflected on – the expression "God works in mysterious ways”? This is just a way of saying I have no clue why this bad thing happened, but there just MUST be a reasonable explanation…)

The good news however is that if there is no pre-given meaning, there is lots of space to create one for ourselves! One that is based on inspiration, caring about others, and generosity. Rather than something that is pre-given, written down, interpreted and distorted countless times, mostly by old men some hundreds of years ago.

This is my simple starting point for my life philosophy.