Kindness and Civility

I was never strongly religious or particularly attached to my beliefs and religion, and in fact have always been fairly liberal. However, what ultimately pushed me out of religion entirely was certain evangelicals' disrespect of my own feelings and beliefs, and their lack of awareness of or interest in and disrespect towards the strength and personal importance of the feelings, views, and beliefs of the diversity of people around them. I was apparently the "wrong" kind of Christian, but they didn’t even know that because they never asked, just assumed I was like them and demonized everything that wasn’t theirs. I left because it became apparent that the arrogant superiority inherent how these Christians interacted with the rest of the world seemed inherent in any belief that your group has unique access to "Truth," whether your "group" is defined by religion or not. I did not want to be part of that arrogance; for me personally, to believe in any religion meant taking my own feelings of my own religion's "correctness" as proof enough that it is the one true reality while disregarding others who presumably feel exactly the same way about their own perspective. What I wanted was a respectful attempt at understanding me and others, not an attempt at demonizing my views without so much as even asking me what I thought.

To me, reason and rational behavior - how people interact with each other - is what matters, NOT what beliefs or lack of beliefs guide an individual's personal development.

Therefore, if I care about ultimately developing rational behaviors and want to engage others in doing so as well, and if being insulting out of ignorance pushed me away, I CANNOT support the idea that being KNOWINGLY insulting is in any way beneficial to that goal. The strength of my feeling of “correctness” is separate from the reason anyone who disagrees should listen. These evangelicals were convinced that their strategy of belittling other views was the way to convince people that the evangelical one was correct, but it backfired. It hurt me and I wanted nothing to do with those who would hurt others.

That tactic fails no matter what side is using it, no matter who is ultimately “correct.” Average people try to avoid and think less of those who hurt them.

If I value reason and want to have a dialog with people I disagree with, I have to do that by relying on the strength of my argument, not the strength of the emotion I feel about it. Emotions ARE motivating; I want to engage others on issues I feel strongly about, and those who already feel at least somewhat positively toward me may be moved by the strength of my feelings on an issue. So there is a place for emotional appeals. But someone who disagrees or dislikes me, who sees me as hurting them, is going to be motivated by their responding negative emotions to avoid me, think less of me, and not listen what I have to say.

I cannot control what people think of me or how they feel about me. Some people will dislike me no matter what. But I can control how I present myself, and I cannot expect someone to treat me kindly if I do not treat them the same way. I know what a reasonable person (no matter if I share their beliefs or not) is likely to feel hurt or insulted by – I may even be able to figure out what a specific person would feel hurt or insulted by - and I can avoid doing those things if I want them to take me seriously. I can express my own feelings of being hurt without taking that out on others; I can inform them that I am angry without simply venting my frustration at them, just as I can also tell someone I love them without inappropriately engaging that emotion. And if I conclude that a person will never take me seriously or hear what I have to say, I will not waste my time and energy and instead stop engaging them.

It’s something that takes effort, and I know I know I still need to work at. But to me, that is what it means to respect someone on the level of basic decency: to recognize that they have feelings like I do, that we are equal on that front, and to not abuse, take advantage of, or belittle the importance of those feelings to the person experiencing them. To treat them decently, like imperfect human beings we all are, even if I don’t like them. I can’t change someone’s mind, challenge what’s important to someone, without getting them to sincerely listen to me, and I can’t do that without first showing that I respect their feelings, even if I disagree with the reason for them and ultimately will tell them so.

A bit TL;DR, but this: http://www.patheos.com/blogs/camelswithhammers/2013/02/the-camels-with-hammers-civility-pledge/ was conveniently posted while I was in the middle of writing this. I think it pretty much details what I'm aiming for.

Good and Bad in the American Gun Debate

“The only thing that stops a bad guy with a gun is a good guy with a gun.”

“Guns don’t kill people, people kill people.”

Statements like these got me thinking that there is a fundamental difference in how pro-gun and anti-gun people perceive “good” and “bad.” Pro-gun supporters say things that seem to suggest that they recognize that there are “bad” people in the world, people who would harm others, and so “good” people need to be able to own guns to protect themselves. In this sense, it can acceptable for good people to kill bad people, but not the other way around. The “goodness” or “badness” of the action comes from who’s doing it, not just what they do. Or rather, what they do is an expression of their inherent “badness,” implying that an inherently “good” person wouldn’t kill outside of “acceptable” reasons, like self defense.

Anti-gun people seem to take the position that the action, KILLING, is what is “bad” (if perhaps sometimes necessary), not the PERSON, and a “bad” action is not necessarily a reflection of the overall integrity of the person doing it. From this point of view, the world is not so neatly divided into “good” and “bad” people, but “average” and “extremes.” meaning anyone, even a generally “good” person, is capable of “doing bad,” i.e. killing. Or to put it another way, there is no inherent lifelong distinction between a “good” and “bad” person, except perhaps as defined by an accumulation of “good” or “bad” actions. Again, context matters (such as self defense), but this position implies that while the context defines the action, it does not necessarily define the person. (Ironically, I feel like this position is most in line with the expression “hate the sin, love the sinner,” a very Christian statement, yet I seem to see the more religious people supporting pro-gun ideas.)

These differences are significant. If you believe some people are inherently good and some inherently bad, you must either think there is a way to tell the difference (to determine who should have legal access to guns/be responsible for protecting others, and who should not), or you think there is no way to tell until a “bad” person acts, so everyone should have access and let the outcome be what it is. If you take the position that “good” people can do bad things, it seems more reasonable to limit guns because even the most well-intentioned person can cause harm. This is particularly true if you believe most people are decent and not prone to “bad” actions; this means “average” people may very well be the cause of much gun-related death, and the only way to be “responsible” is not keep a deadly weapon around that can endanger yourself and others.

I feel there must be psychology research into these issues that can suggest practical solutions (certainly, there’s plenty of philosophical debate about “evil”). But what do you think? Am I even on the right track with this line of thinking?

Gun Control

I support gun control because I do not trust the average “responsible” person’s judgment about how and when to use deadly force. I am an average and responsible person who may not even entirely trust my own judgement. I trust police and military more because at least in theory, they’re in a context where that kind of mental preparedness and decision-making training can be not just made available, but mandated. If it is not (and in reality, probably isn’t, at least not well), the solution to irresponsible gun use on the part of authorities is better decision-making training or taking away their guns (which some countries do), not putting guns in the hands of equally mentally-unprepared and irresponsible average citizens. “Good” average people can be trigger-happy, can snap and get angry and do something stupid, can get depressed and act in a way they normally wouldn’t, can get scared, can make a mistake. I do not think there is a clear divide between "good" people and "bad" people a priori when it comes to many types of gun violence, except to say that obviously violent criminals are far, far fewer in number than the rest of the population. Therefore, I do not trust my fellow American citizens who are so afraid of everyone else that they only feel safe if they themselves own a deadly weapon, if they feel they must live in a virtual cold war in order to have peace and security. If guns don’t kill people, that attitude does.

Atheism, morality, and why I left organized religion

The first time I heard the question, "where do atheists think morals come if they don't believe in God?" I was baffled. Despite being raised Catholic and associating particular moral codes with particular religions - with gods telling their followers what is the best way to behave and have a meaningful life - I never associated the existence of morality in general with the existence of religion. I never thought people couldn't or wouldn't come up with a moral code on their own (after all, society existed and functioned before God gave Moses the 10 Commandments, and all societies have some sort of ethical guidelines no matter who or what they believe in).

Now that I have a better understanding of what the question is essentially asking - "Why do atheists think it's wrong to hurt others if they don't believe there's a God to punish them for doing so?" - I feel I can answer this question fairly, and it's directly connected to why I left religion in the first place.

The simple answer for me is "reasoning": I don't like to be harmed, unfairly criticized, treated poorly; I care about my relationships (however I define them); I think my interests, thoughts, and inner experiences are valuable. I see absolutely no reason to think anyone else in the world feels differently about themselves, their feelings, their experiences, their relationships, etc. And I can't assign a relative value to my experiences compared to everyone else because I can't experience someone else's life to compare. Therefore, I think we're all equal, and can't think I or anyone else has a right to hurt another (I suppose I might be defining "harm" as "dening the legitimacy of their own experience." I'll tentatively go with that definition until I think more about it).

Essentially, I take a rationalized approach to The Gold Rule* and equality, and combine in with the evolutionary reality that humans survive best in a society (meaning we work together and need to find a functional way to do that).

This all came after I left religion, though. Initially, I simply felt that for me to stay a Christian, I had to believe my inner experience of God was more "correct" than my non-Christian friends' experiences of God or whatever else they believed (otherwise, why wouldn't I be their religion instead?), and I personally didn't feel I could take that position while still fully respecting the legitimacy of their inner self. Leaving religion allowed me to fully participate in equality by acknowledging that what makes us different may not be what we feel, but simply how we interpret our feelings.


*Just because I don't believe in a particular religion or don't see their teachings as the literal word of God doesn't mean I don't think they can have valuable philosphical insights.