On Labels & Sports

On Labels

Theists and atheists are primed to dislike each other. It’s a function of the labels. Whenever people create an in-group/out-group dynamic we progressively identify more with the in-group and consider the out-group the enemy. It seems to be human nature--whether you think that nature is due to the fall of man or selective pressure.

I am an atheist, I’m not denying that, but I’m tired of it opening the door of generalization. I probably don’t possess whichever negative qualities someone draws from whichever other atheist they happen to dislike the most. I’m an individual. So are you. So is that Christian. So is that Muslim.

Now I’m buried in labels--secularist, naturalist, materialist, evolutionist, New Atheist, Darwinist, humanist, skeptic, whatever. I honestly don’t know if there are distinctions any more or which really do apply.

On Sports

People's obsession with this or that sports team relies on one of two factors the vast majority of the time. You root for team "X" because you either are geographically located near team "X" or your parents root for team "X." Of course, the same two factors play a heavy role for religious preference. Do most people you know practice the same faith as their parents? That may be anecdotal evidence, but statistics show this as well. It's impossible to argue that Hinduism isn't primarily practiced in Indian. Muslims and Christians have spread out some, but have pretty solid majorities in specific areas. "Jewish" as a term is so entrenched in cultural heritage that it identifies ethnicity every bit as much as it does faith

You probably think it's silly for me to say that the Ohio State Buckeyes is the objectively right team, but that is what the religious are do. It's important to consider that one's belief in Jesus, Yahweh, Allah, or Vishnu is more dependent on convenience than correctness.

The Truth Is Out There, We Just Can't Reach It

I used to debate theists on the merits of evolution, the origins of the universe, and the foundations of morality. I never thought I’d say it, but those were the good ol’ days. I’ve had seven of my last ten apologetic opponents throw literally everything into question as soon as they realized they weren’t debating a newb. It's finally happened. They've come to the conclusion that there’s only one defensive strategy when the entirety of human knowledge is mounting against their belief: to throw human knowledge under the bus.

Epistemology (\i-ˌpis-tə-ˈmä-lə-jē\) is the study of the nature and grounds of knowledge especially with reference to its limits and validity. Apologists have their own theory on the validity of knowledge--that is, knowledge is only valid when grounded in the divine. There is no truth, only Truth. The capital “T” relates the word to the imaginary and changes the definition to the less accepted yet, in their minds, more accurate attribute and/or synonym of God.

The apologist is applying the philosophical argument that objective truth is impossible to determine to the naturalistic worldview. This speaks to my aversion to pointless philosophy, and yet, I must admit, I can’t refute their claim. When I take into account thought experiments in which our reality could be an elaborate holographic simulation or our brains could be drugged and electrically stimulated to perceive things that are false, I intellectually have no choice but to accept that any objective truth is out of my jurisdiction. Where the apologist goes wrong is their claim of exception.

Any philosophical argument for why I can’t know what I believe can also be applied to Catholics, Fundamentalists, Mormons, Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Taoists, Scientologists, Buddhists, Pagans, Occultists, Rastafarians, whatever. In a naturalistic framework, we are all in the same uncertain boat. Claiming divine revelation of capital “T” Truth isn’t an argument based on reason or logic, it’s a claim of exception based on probable myth--which tends to be unconvincing to those who actually value reason and logic. Moreover, believers face further uncertainty simply by subscribing to a supernatural worldview. Sure, their brains could be in something as pedestrian as vats, but also could their brains be telepathically manipulated by any number of magical entities (gods included,) forever beyond our ability to quantify. For the supernaturalist, all bets are off, giving any epistemological high ground to the naturalist.

While I can’t deny philosophical uncertainty, I see no reason to apply it. Absolute truth is beyond our grasp, fine. Then there’s no point in trying to grasp it. I’m pragmatic. If something looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck--that’s good enough for me. It’s a duck--especially if others agree. There is something to be said for consensus reality. Essential truth is what we can ascertain about our consensus reality, and science is the most objective method to ascertaining this truth. When I say something is true, I mean it is the best, most objective data available. It’s not capital “T” Truth, but then nothing is.