Atheists' ridicule won't win friends and influence people
Barney Zwartz is religion editor of The Age
http://www.theage.com.au/
March 16, 2010
Richard Dawkins addresses the Global Atheist ConventionPhoto: Luis Ascui
If the meek really do inherit the earth, it won't be the atheists who turned out in force in Melbourne at the weekend for what organisers believe to be the world's biggest atheist conference.
It probably does mark in some way a coming of age for the militant atheist movement: they are visible and vocal, energetic and starting to become organised. They are gaining in confidence, which is no bad thing - but, as a couple of brave speakers observed, they would be much more persuasive if a touch less strident, a touch less dogmatic, a touch humble.
We are all enriched when people think through serious issues rather than inheriting parental or cultural assumptions, and when atheists advocate a view of a better society they must be taken seriously. By implication, of course, they must extend the same courtesy.
One lesson the atheist movement is learning, as the convention shows, is that it must broaden its appeal, reaching out to secularists, rationalists and others who share similar goals.
Evaluating the convention depends on what one considers its purpose. If it was to validate hardline atheists to themselves and give them confidence, it was a triumph. If it was to take a mature look at how to advance the cause of secularism, politically and socially, the speakers should probably have spent less time ridiculing religion and more on positive and practical ideas.
It was superfluous for speaker after speaker to point out that believers are deluded fantasists who believe in a magic friend who does magic tricks, because for almost everyone at the conference that was an article of faith already.
Many there would be horrified at how similar it was to evangelical meetings I have covered, down to the bouffant-haired televangelist prototype in Atheist Alliance International president Stuart Bechman, who was master of ceremonies. Every jibe brought a burst of applause - all that was missing was the "hallelujahs".
A convention about something you don't believe in is an odd thing. I wondered last week on my blog whether it risked being a self-congratulatory gabfest of like-minded people united mostly by their disdain for believers. It wasn't. Certainly there was plenty of disdain, but the general atmosphere was less smug than expectant, eager, hopeful. Although a couple of speakers were crude polemicists or intolerably shallow, the key speakers offered much more.
When he talks about science, Richard Dawkins is articulate, accessible and passionate, and I was impressed by philosophers Peter Singer, A.C.Grayling and Tamas Pataki, and by Taslima Nasrin, whose personal story of being exiled for fighting for women's freedom in Muslim Bangladesh reduced many to tears.
In Australia, as a sociologist told me, organised atheism is a nascent movement that has yet to learn to articulate its own viewpoint without misrepresenting others. But it took Christians a long time to learn that, and some still haven't.
Here's my advice. If atheists can reduce their contempt for believers and work harder for their positive goal - reducing the footprint of religion in society - they may begin to exert more of the influence they feel they deserve.
But, to be effective, they need clear and focused targets. Some of these were identified, such as removing funding for religious schools, removing tax exemptions for religious agencies, and working to make separation of church and state more explicit.
When it comes to secularism, they have more support than perhaps they realise. Many Christians and agnostics support secularism, as long as it is understood as a voice for all in which none is privileged, rather than the removal of any religious voice from the public arena (which would be undemocratic).
The humour at the convention was in some ways the most revealing aspect. Some I found very clever; but some it would be charitable to categorise as inept.
American comedian Jamie Kilstein bellowed a monologue at about 600 words a minute, making him hard to hear: just as well, perhaps, as two-thirds of the words began with "f" and ended with "k", and the rest were very specific about gay sexual practices. More than one present confided that it was the low point for them, especially with children there.
Also unworthy were ABC science presenter Robyn Williams offering "a devastating argument against religion in two words: Senator Fielding"; former Hillsong member Tanya Levin: "I'm finally getting to hang out with the adults"; and Rationalist Society president Ian Robinson, asking whether there were any believers in the audience. "OK, I'll speak really slowly." (Wild applause after each.)
What was missing was any sign of self-deprecation. Atheism will be a mature movement in Australia when atheists can laugh not just at the religious, but at themselves.
END