Posted: Apr 11, 2019 2:47 pm
by quas
proudfootz wrote:A recent discussion of Sam Harris and his hate-friendly brand...

This is so filled with misunderstanding.

About religious/racial profiling for security checks, I actually listened/read transcript to that podcast featuring the security expert that disagreed with Harris. Somewhere in the podcast, the security expert actually sort of agreed with Harris.

Douglas Murray is puzzled why anyone would consider ermself as transgender when re doesn't even want to have any transgender surgery performed. This is transphobic?

10:30 "Here's the problem, many Muslims living in majority Muslim countries, and here also in the west, do not believe the doctrines Harris declares to be central to Islam. Harris is taking his reading of the Quran as the only legitimate reading".

Sam Harris wrote:The Myth of "Moderation" in Religion

The idea that any one of our religions represents the infallible word of the One True God requires an encyclopedic ignorance of history, mythology, and art even to be entertained—as the beliefs, rituals, and iconography of each of our religions attest to centuries of cross-pollination among them. Whatever their imagined source, the doctrines of modern religions are no more tenable than those which, for lack of adherents, were cast upon the scrap heap of mythology millennia ago; for there is no more evidence to justify a belief in the literal existence of Yahweh and Satan than there was to keep Zeus perched upon his mountain throne or Poseidon churning the seas.

According to Gallup, 35 percent of Americans believe that the Bible is the literal and inerrant word of the Creator of the universe.5 Another 48 percent believe that it is the “inspired” word of the same—still inerrant, though certain of its passages must be interpreted symbolically before their truth can be brought to light. Only 17 percent of us remain to doubt that a personal God, in his infinite wisdom, is likely to have authored this text—or, for that matter, to have created the earth with its 250,000 species of beetles. Some 46 percent of Americans take a literalist view of creation (40 percent believe that God has guided creation over the course of millions of years). This means that 120 million of us place the big bang 2,500 years after the Babylonians and Sumerians learned to brew beer. If our polls are to be trusted, nearly 230 million Americans believe that a book showing neither unity of style nor internal consistency was authored by an omniscient, omnipotent, and omnipresent deity. A survey of Hindus, Muslims, and Jews around the world would surely yield similar results, revealing that we, as a species, have grown almost perfectly intoxicated by our myths. How is it that, in this one area of our lives, we have convinced ourselves that our beliefs about the world can float entirely free of reason and evidence?

It is with respect to this rather surprising cognitive scenery that we must decide what it means to be a religious “moderate” in the twenty-first century. Moderates in every faith are obliged to loosely interpret (or simply ignore) much of their canons in the interests of living in the modern world. No doubt an obscure truth of economics is at work here: societies appear to become considerably less productive whenever large numbers of people stop making widgets and begin killing their customers and creditors for heresy. The first thing to observe about the moderate’s retreat from scriptural literalism is that it draws its inspiration not from scripture but from cultural developments that have rendered many of God’s utterances difficult to accept as written. In America, religious moderation is further enforced by the fact that most Christians and Jews do not read the Bible in its entirety and consequently have no idea just how vigorously the God of Abraham wants heresy expunged. One look at the book of Deuteronomy reveals that he has something very specific in mind should your son or daughter return from yoga class advocating the worship of Krishna.

“If your brother, the son of your father or of your mother, or your son or daughter, or the spouse whom you embrace, or your most intimate friend, tries to secretly seduce you, saying, “Let us go and serve other gods,” unknown to you or your ancestors before you, gods of the peoples surrounding you, whether near you or far away, anywhere throughout the world, you must not consent, you must not listen to him; you must show him no pity, you must not spare him or conceal his guilt. No, you must kill him, your hand must strike the first blow in putting him to death and the hands of the rest of the people following. You must stone him to death, since he has tried to divert you from Yahweh your God…(Deuteronomy 13:7–11)

(Okay that is as bad and as clear an injunction as it’s possible to write. There is no metaphor there. This is not allegory. This is a direct command to kill people for any semblance of religious diversity. If someone suggests to you should be practicing a religion, other than the one true one that you happen to have in hand, in this case Judaism, or some variant of Christianity. You should kill him and you must be the first to kill him. And as spelled out elsewhere, if you are reluctant to do this, your neighbours should kill you. So this is a behaviour that we are seeing among not Christians for the most part, though you can get Christians in Africa killing homosexuals at the moment, very much in the spirit of this sort of text.

But when you consider the group like the Islamic State, this is the sort of literalism to which they are committed, and analogous passages obviously in the Quran, as we’ll see. But as I’ve often said, the Old Testament in the Bible is the worse of the worse when it comes to precise injunction to kill people for thought crimes.

It’s only by a loophole in Judaism that Jews don’t consider this an actionable doctrine now: The Messiah has not yet returned; the Temple has not been rebuilt; a Sandherin has not been reconvened, which is a body of elders that can judge cases of this kind, in this case a case of heresy. But once all that happened, the ultra-orthodox believe that this is how we should live, and any Jew who tells you otherwise, is either ignorant or lying to you.

So it is by theological and historical accident, not the internal moral resources of the tradition of Judaism, that we are not seeing barbarous Jews murdering their neighbours for religious offences. And it is by extraordinarily unhappy accidents of theology, that we are seeing these among Muslims worldwide. And this is a difference, again, that we have to learn to talk about honestly. Back to the book.)

While the stoning of children for heresy has fallen out of fashion in our country, you will not hear a moderate Christian or Jew arguing for a “symbolic” reading of passages of this sort. In fact, one seems to be explicitly blocked by God himself:
“ Whatever I am now commanding you, you must keep and observe, adding nothing to it, taking nothing away. (Deuteronomy 13:1) The above passage is as canonical as any in the Bible, and it is only by ignoring such barbarisms that the Good Book can be reconciled with life in the modern world. This is a problem for “moderation” in religion: it has nothing underwriting it other than the unacknowledged neglect of the letter of the divine law.

The only reason anyone is “moderate” in matters of faith these days is that he has assimilated some of the fruits of the last two thousand years of human thought (democratic politics, scientific advancement on every front, concern for human rights, an end to cultural and geographic isolation, etc). The doors leading out of scriptural literalism do not open from the inside. The moderation we see among non-fundamentalists is not some sign that faith itself has evolved; it is, rather, the product of the many hammer blows of modernity that have exposed certain tenets of faith to doubt. Not the least among these developments has been the emergence of our tendency to value evidence and to be convinced by a proposition to the degree that there is evidence for it. Even most fundamentalists live by the lights of reason in this regard; it is just that their minds seem to have been partitioned to accommodate the profligate truth claims of their faith. Tell a devout Christian that his wife is cheating on him, or that frozen yogurt can make a man invisible, and he is likely to require as much evidence as anyone else, and to be persuaded only to the extent that you give it. Tell him that the book he keeps by his bed was written by an invisible deity who will punish him with fire for eternity if he fails to accept its every incredible claim about the universe, and he seems to require no evidence whatsoever.

Religious moderation springs from the fact that even the least educated person among us simply knows more about certain matters than anyone did two thousand years ago—and much of this knowledge is incompatible with scripture. Having heard something about the medical discoveries of the last hundred years, most of us no longer equate disease processes with sin or demonic possession. Having learned about the known distances between objects in our universe, most of us (about half of us, actually) find the idea that the whole works was created six thousand years ago (with light from distant stars already in transit toward the earth) impossible to take seriously. Such concessions to modernity do not in the least suggest that faith is compatible with reason, or that our religious traditions are in principle open to new learning: it is just that the utility of ignoring (or “reinterpreting”) certain articles of faith is now overwhelming. Anyone being flown to a distant city for heart-bypass surgery has conceded, tacitly at least, that we have learned a few things about physics, geography, engineering, and medicine since the time of Moses.

So it is not that these texts have maintained their integrity over time (they haven’t); it is just that they have been effectively edited by our neglect of certain of their passages. Most of what remains—the “good parts”—has been spared the same winnowing because we do not yet have a truly modern understanding of our ethical intuitions and our capacity for spiritual experience. If we better understood the workings of the human brain, we would undoubtedly discover lawful connections between our states of consciousness, our modes of conduct, and the various ways we use our attention. What makes one person happier than another? Why is love more conducive to happiness than hate? Why do we generally prefer beauty to ugliness and order to chaos? Why does it feel so good to smile and laugh, and why do these shared experiences generally bring people closer together? Is the ego an illusion, and, if so, what implications does this have for human life? Is there life after death? These are ultimately questions for a mature science of the mind. If we ever develop such a science, most of our religious texts will be no more useful to mystics than they now are to astronomers.

(And again, this is a claim that I stand by, the only reason that this book has any integrity left in them, apart from the occasional example of good writing, is that we haven’t had fundamental breakthroughs in a rational scientific context on ethics and spiritual experience. And insofar as we do, the chance that you will see in our conversation will be exactly analogous to what has happened in the area of medicine, or the questions of cosmology. If you are an astronomer, looking to the Bible or the Quran for guidance about how to think, in fact you are not an astronomer. And the same will be true for what I’m calling here a mystic or a contemplative, someone who cares to explore in the laboratory of his own mind the deepest experiences available, the deepest experience that is available, based on how he uses his attention. And the more we understand about the human mind, the more technology and truths upon it, the less sane and rational people will fixate on these books. Now back to the book. )

While moderation in religion may seem a reasonable position to stake out, in light of all that we have (and have not) learned about the universe, it offers no bulwark against religious extremism and religious violence. From the perspective of those seeking to live by the letter of the texts, the religious moderate is nothing more than a failed fundamentalist. He is, in all likelihood, going to wind up in hell with the rest of the unbelievers. The problem that religious moderation poses for all of us is that it does not permit anything very critical to be said about religious literalism. We cannot say that fundamentalists are crazy, because they are merely practicing their freedom of belief; we cannot even say that they are mistaken in religious terms, because their knowledge of scripture is generally unrivaled. All we can say, as religious moderates, is that we don’t like the personal and social costs that a full embrace of scripture imposes on us. This is not a new form of faith, or even a new species of scriptural exegesis; it is simply a capitulation to a variety of all-too-human interests that have nothing, in principle, to do with God. Religious moderation is the product of secular knowledge and scriptural ignorance—and it has no bona fides, in religious terms, to put it on a par with fundamentalism.7

(Perhaps I should say that again, because this is an important point. Religious moderation is the product of secular knowledge and scriptural ignorance. It is by knowing more and more about things beyond religion and knowing less and less ultimately about the details of one’s own religion that one becomes a religious moderate. That, by definition renders religious moderation unconvincing to a fundamentalist and intellectually dishonest to an atheist, because the moderate doesn’t actually acknowledge the origin of this transformation in his or her thinking. The moderate pretends that this is somehow coming from the tradition itself , that is the resources internal to Judaism or Christianity or Islam, that has allowed for this moderation. No, go back to Deuteronomy now or a thousand years from now, and you will find that same passage demanding that you kill your daughter if she joins the Hare Krishnas. Back to the book.)

The texts themselves are unequivocal: they are perfect in all their parts. By their light, religious moderation appears to be nothing more than an unwillingness to fully submit to God’s law. By failing to live by the letter of the texts, while tolerating the irrationality of those who do, religious moderates betray faith and reason equally. Unless the core dogmas of faith are called into question—i.e., that we know there is a God, and that we know what he wants from us—religious moderation will do nothing to lead us out of the wilderness.

The benignity of most religious moderates does not suggest that religious faith is anything more sublime than a desperate marriage of hope and ignorance, nor does it guarantee that there is not a terrible price to be paid for limiting the scope of reason in our dealings with other human beings. Religious moderation, insofar as it represents an attempt to hold on to what is still serviceable in orthodox religion, closes the door to more sophisticated approaches to spirituality, ethics, and the building of strong communities. Religious moderates seem to believe that what we need is not radical insight and innovation in these areas but a mere dilution of Iron Age philosophy. Rather than bring the full force of our creativity and rationality to bear on the problems of ethics, social cohesion, and even spiritual experience, moderates merely ask that we relax our standards of adherence to ancient superstitions and taboos, while otherwise maintaining a belief system that was passed down to us from men and women whose lives were simply ravaged by their basic ignorance about the world. In what other sphere of life is such subservience to tradition acceptable? Medicine? Engineering? Not even politics suffers the anachronism that still dominates our thinking about ethical values and spiritual experience.

{And this is a point that I occasionally make, although perhaps not often enough that one of the other cost to religious moderation is that it blocks the door to a truly rational, truly unembarrasing approach to modern ethics and spirituality. Moderates insist that we respect the notion of Revelation because there is something so good in these books that we couldn’t possibly come up with it on our own. Or couldn’t view all books as the products of merely human minds and then sample the best wisdom from each without regard for any tradition. This belief, in addition to maintaining tribalism of separate religious communities in our world… this belief is not only obviously false, but profoundly unhelpful. Back to the text.)

Imagine that we could revive a well-educated Christian of the fourteenth century. The man would prove to be a total ignoramus, except on matters of faith. His beliefs about geography, astronomy, and medicine would embarrass even a child, but he would know more or less everything there is to know about God. Though he would be considered a fool to think that the earth is the center of the cosmos, or that trepanation constitutes a wise medical intervention, his religious ideas would still be beyond reproach.

There are two explanations for this: either we perfected our religious understanding of the world a millennium ago—while our knowledge on all other fronts was still hopelessly inchoate—or religion, being the mere maintenance of dogma, is one area of discourse that does not admit of progress. We will see that there is much to recommend the latter view.

With each passing year, do our religious beliefs conserve more and more of the data of human experience? If religion addresses a genuine sphere of understanding and human necessity, then it should be susceptible to progress; its doctrines should become more useful, rather than less. Progress in religion, as in other fields, would have to be a matter of present inquiry, not the mere reiteration of past doctrine. Whatever is true now should be discoverable now, and describable in terms that are not an outright affront to the rest of what we know about the world. By this measure, the entire project of religion seems perfectly backward. It cannot survive the changes that have come over us—culturally, technologically, and even ethically. Otherwise, there are few reasons to believe that we will survive it.

Moderates do not want to kill anyone in the name of God, but they want us to keep using the word “God” as though we knew what we were talking about. And they do not want anything too critical said about people who really believe in the God of their fathers, because tolerance, perhaps above all else, is sacred. To speak plainly and truthfully about the state of our world—to say, for instance, that the Bible and the Koran both contain mountains of life-destroying gibberish—is antithetical to tolerance as moderates currently conceive it. But we can no longer afford the luxury of such political correctness. We must finally recognize the price we are paying to maintain the iconography of our ignorance.