ETHICS OF AN ATHEIST
My dear, perceptive reader; I have oft wondered at the power of atheism to unite theists across multitude of religions. Whatever their other differences, they invariably set these aside and join forces in the condemnation of the atheist. Invariably, when I inform someone that I am an atheist, their immediate reaction is to form that silent ‘Oh’!! I can almost hear their thoughts….. “If you don’t believe in God, there’s nothing to prevent you from committing crimes, is there? Without the fear of hell-fire and eternal damnation, you can do anything you like, can’t you?”
At times, such queries seem almost laughable, a portrayal of naïveté, so to speak; but at still others, they are frankly disturbing, as the message they convey is that a vast majority of theists still consider us atheists as the lowest scum of society!! Many people consider the phrase ‘an ethical atheist’ to be an oxymoron. Assuredly, ‘tis not so. Quite the contrary, in fact. The behavior of atheists is subject to the same rules of sociology, psychology and neurophysiology as the rest of the general population. Granted, we, as a group, do not fear retribution in an afterlife, but that hardly serves to infer that we are any less ethical than theists.
Ethics as a group, arise not out of fear, but are a natural consequence of the evolution if society. Atheists are capable of governing their own moral behavior and getting along in society the same way as anyone else. At the risk of labeling the atheist as self-centered, it does not serve the best interests of an atheist to have a radically different set of ethics from the rest of society. Basically, society will only put up with so much if it is to function smoothly. So, if an atheist wants to get along and have a decent life, it makes sense for him to be honest, work hard, pay his bills, and get along with others. Basically, he has to adopt a set of ethics common to society in order to do that. Belief in God is not a requirement for ethical behavior or an enjoyable life.
On the other hand, I must concede that the ethical system we follow is by no means rigid. It is an evolving, changing entity. The closest thing we have to an ethical absolute is the legal system of our respective countries. The principle we follow is essentially this ‘Whatever works out best for all involved, must be right’. I must admit, I can see where theists might have a problem with this. It looks suspiciously like hypocrisy, doesn’t it? Again, a common misconception. It would amount to hypocrisy if one looks purely at the situation at hand, rather than the background and events leading up to it. In my opinion, in today’s day and age, it is hardly feasible to have a blanket set of ethics, covering all possible situations under one code.
Consider, merely as an example, the practice of abortion. Unlike the Catholic Church, I do not condemn the practice outright. Nor am I an outspoken proponent of it. I believe we must consider each case by its individual merits and demerits. For instance, I might oppose abortion in the case of an affluent woman in her early 30’s with no health problems who wants to delay motherhood in order to focus on her career. On the other hand, I would support it in the case of a young teenage girl in a third world country, who just made a mistake.
I must reiterate here that an atheist’s ethics are based on the same principles of love, patience, understanding and general welfare as those of any religion. It’s just that, I believe, we have a tendency to look beyond the obvious to what lurks hidden in the shadows. Our ethical system is by no means clearly delineated into regions of wrong and right, black and white, but rather, as the title suggests, is an intricate tapestry of different shades of grey!!
*(Here, I must implore the reader to forgive my occasional and seemingly random from second person to the first and vice versa at many places in the above article. It is difficult to maintain a generic view on a topic so close to one’s heart)
**(Also, I would very much appreciate the readers thoughts on the matter. A different viewpoint often helps one to see the truth clearer J)
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
Saturday, July 14, 2007
THE ILLUSION OF ‘I’
My dear perceptive readers, before I begin, I must implore you to forgive these few awkward lines. What I mean to write of today is no more than a transcript of certain nebulous thoughts floating in my head. I perceive the most fragile of connections, the merest beginnings of sense, no more.
Oft have I wondered, what is the concept of the ‘I’?? Indeed, it is one of the mysteries of life. The closest anybody has ever come to describing it is, I think, the vague, ephemerous term of ‘Anthrocentrism’. Self-delusion is something all of us have, at some point in our lives or other, almost certainly indulged in. Each and every man (and woman, to my many vices shall not be added sexism) believes that he or she is the most important person in the world. Oh, do not get me wrong, I do not say that we voice these beliefs openly, or that we are monsters of our pride. Not at all. In fact, we are perfectly aware that it is neither admirable nor useful to be driven by pride, so we try to subdue that drive, but we might as well disapprove of having oneself powered by one’s heartbeat. Intellectually, we recognize ourselves as merely a part of a greater whole, but not really; not in our guts, which, incidentally, is where an average persons thinking mechanism is located.
But, I wonder, is this delusion really as bad as it is made up to be? Isn’t it this very indulgence that drives a man towards success? And I answer myself, indeed, it is so. But, there is always a ‘but’, isn’t there? In this case, there is no doubt that each and every one of us is a big fish, the ‘but’ simply arises in our ability to identify the appropriate pond. We are indeed the centers of our respective worlds, only the world has become a lot smaller. In the large scale, one is no more than a component, and, this is the cinematic moment of revelation with big bass beats, by no means an irreplaceable one. Here, I must add that this is a revelation which, as far as my perception goes, cannot seep into ones consciousness steadily. It has to hit one with the full force of a speeding automobile suddenly encountering a brick wall.
One must realize that in the grand scheme of human civilization, there is no single person who is truly important. I have no doubt that, by making this assertion, I have condemned myself to heated arguments from many quarters, most of them armed with examples. I’ll quote a few myself. Newton and Einstein are the cornerstones of science today. Great men, no doubt. But do you truly believe that without them, science would not have progressed? Would no one have invented the technique of calculus or discovered gravity? Would no one have introduced the concept of relativity? Of course someone would have done it!! Perhaps the achievement would have come a little later, but it would have come nonetheless. The single greatest engineering feat of the last 150 years is the IC engine. But, in the long run, does it really matter who invented it or if its invention was delayed by a decade or two? Would the Second World War have taken place if Hitler had never been born? Of course it would have!! The sweep of history is inexorable, inescapable. The socio-economic pressures which led to the War had nothing to do with Hitler. He was merely the catalyst. Same goes for Gandhi, or any major historical figure. Even if none of them had ever existed, I believe that the world today would not have been quite different, in essentials, from what it is today.
Isaac Asimov, in his groundbreaking Foundation series, introduced a concept called ‘Psychohistory’. It is, in essentials, a mathematical technique to predict the broad sweeps of civilization. Asimov himself was conveniently vague about the precise details of psychohistory, but stressed many times over, and in no uncertain terms, that the governing equations would break down when applied to an individual. His official argument was of course that an individual’s reaction to any stimulus could not be accurately predicted, but those of a mob could be. I wonder, though, if he had the thoughts expressed above in the back of his head when he created psychohistory. Interesting speculation, is it not?
My dear reader, as I promised at the very outset, the post seems to have no easily apparent order or chronology. I humbly beg you to pardon these inchoate musings, and I hope you will share your thoughts with me, in the process perhaps enlightening my lost, troubled soul.
Oft have I wondered, what is the concept of the ‘I’?? Indeed, it is one of the mysteries of life. The closest anybody has ever come to describing it is, I think, the vague, ephemerous term of ‘Anthrocentrism’. Self-delusion is something all of us have, at some point in our lives or other, almost certainly indulged in. Each and every man (and woman, to my many vices shall not be added sexism) believes that he or she is the most important person in the world. Oh, do not get me wrong, I do not say that we voice these beliefs openly, or that we are monsters of our pride. Not at all. In fact, we are perfectly aware that it is neither admirable nor useful to be driven by pride, so we try to subdue that drive, but we might as well disapprove of having oneself powered by one’s heartbeat. Intellectually, we recognize ourselves as merely a part of a greater whole, but not really; not in our guts, which, incidentally, is where an average persons thinking mechanism is located.
But, I wonder, is this delusion really as bad as it is made up to be? Isn’t it this very indulgence that drives a man towards success? And I answer myself, indeed, it is so. But, there is always a ‘but’, isn’t there? In this case, there is no doubt that each and every one of us is a big fish, the ‘but’ simply arises in our ability to identify the appropriate pond. We are indeed the centers of our respective worlds, only the world has become a lot smaller. In the large scale, one is no more than a component, and, this is the cinematic moment of revelation with big bass beats, by no means an irreplaceable one. Here, I must add that this is a revelation which, as far as my perception goes, cannot seep into ones consciousness steadily. It has to hit one with the full force of a speeding automobile suddenly encountering a brick wall.
One must realize that in the grand scheme of human civilization, there is no single person who is truly important. I have no doubt that, by making this assertion, I have condemned myself to heated arguments from many quarters, most of them armed with examples. I’ll quote a few myself. Newton and Einstein are the cornerstones of science today. Great men, no doubt. But do you truly believe that without them, science would not have progressed? Would no one have invented the technique of calculus or discovered gravity? Would no one have introduced the concept of relativity? Of course someone would have done it!! Perhaps the achievement would have come a little later, but it would have come nonetheless. The single greatest engineering feat of the last 150 years is the IC engine. But, in the long run, does it really matter who invented it or if its invention was delayed by a decade or two? Would the Second World War have taken place if Hitler had never been born? Of course it would have!! The sweep of history is inexorable, inescapable. The socio-economic pressures which led to the War had nothing to do with Hitler. He was merely the catalyst. Same goes for Gandhi, or any major historical figure. Even if none of them had ever existed, I believe that the world today would not have been quite different, in essentials, from what it is today.
Isaac Asimov, in his groundbreaking Foundation series, introduced a concept called ‘Psychohistory’. It is, in essentials, a mathematical technique to predict the broad sweeps of civilization. Asimov himself was conveniently vague about the precise details of psychohistory, but stressed many times over, and in no uncertain terms, that the governing equations would break down when applied to an individual. His official argument was of course that an individual’s reaction to any stimulus could not be accurately predicted, but those of a mob could be. I wonder, though, if he had the thoughts expressed above in the back of his head when he created psychohistory. Interesting speculation, is it not?
My dear reader, as I promised at the very outset, the post seems to have no easily apparent order or chronology. I humbly beg you to pardon these inchoate musings, and I hope you will share your thoughts with me, in the process perhaps enlightening my lost, troubled soul.
Sunday, July 1, 2007
A MATTER OF PERSPECTIVE
My dear, perceptive reader, I come back to you with what I hope will affect you as profoundly as it has me. This stunning picture is of Messier 81(M81) or Bode’s Galaxy taken from the Hubble Space Telescope. It is a spiral galaxy, similar in many, many respects to our very own Milky Way.My train of thought runs thus….. There are about one hundred billion galaxies in the observable universe. The space between each of them is more tenuous than any laboratory vacuum, and stretches for many times the size of the galaxies themselves. An average galaxy has about 200 billion stars. Now, consider our Milky Way galaxy. It is, as I have said, merely one out of 10^11 galaxies. Our sun, on the edge of one of the spiral arms of the galaxy, is merely one of 200 billion. Our sun would be less than at a pixel in a similar image of our galaxy. Our earth would be just about a pixel in a similar size image of the solar system. I know this may seem like mathematical masochism, but a long human life is barely 7.3*10^-11 of the present age of the universe.
The scale of this immense vastness is so gargantuan that I can barely conceive of it without a shudder. The cosmic forces which are responsible for the creation of all this magnificence is what most call God. I myself beg to differ, but this article isn’t about that at all. It is about how infinitely insignificant any and all of us are. Our lives are in the inexorable grip of these vast forces, forces which are beyond resistance, and yet, do we really matter?? Are these forces even cognizant about our existence?? There is a theory that the current vacuum prevalent in our universe is a high-energy one, an excited quantum state, so to speak. It could collapse at any instant, anywhere in the universe. A bubble of the real vacuum could be hurtling outward towards us at this very instant. We wouldn’t even realize it. We would be here one instant, gone the next. The true spine chiller comes next. We could be brushed out of existence the next instant, and the universe, in the grand scheme of things, wouldn’t even notice our absence. This is awe, in the truest sense of the world, to confront something so much greater than ourselves, and to be humbled in comparison.
My dear, perceptive reader; with this I take your leave for now. I would, however, appreciate your thoughts on the matter.
Saturday, June 30, 2007
STRAWBERRIES AND CREAM
It is that time of the year again!! Grass is back in style!! Rejoice one and all; Wimbledon is here!!!
Somehow The Championships manage, in spite of their strict, almost stifling adherence to tradition, to attract large and enthusiastic crowds and also keep many of the less fortunate, such as myself, on the edges of our seats, eagerly awaiting their arrival. Or, perhaps, they do so due to the reasons mentioned above…..
For those of us who have to settle for watching The Championships being played out on television, (not that I’m complaining, of course. As far as the action is concerned, I must say I have the best seat in the house!!) Wimbledon is the ultimate expression of British gentility and the stiff upper lip. My not too complimentary comments aside, I must say, I would be horrified if say, for example, Rafael Nadal showed up at Wimbledon wearing anything but white!!
Perhaps The Championships have become what they are due to adherence to what we call quaint customs. I for one, cannot conceive of a Wimbledon without the players in ‘mostly white’, female players being addressed as ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs., any number of references to ‘Henman Hill’ (the nickname persists, even though most of the British know, deep down inside, that any chance Tim Henman had of winning The Championship was only ever fleeting at best, and is now all but non-existent. Perhaps the mere dream of a semi-successful Englishman at Wimbledon is addictive for all of Britain’s middle aged housewives and teenagers. Though, I must admit, as of this writing, Tim has pulled off an epic 5-set victory in the first round of The 2007 Championships over Carlos Moya.), the Royal Family in attendance and, of course, strawberries and cream!! :P (jokes aside, this custom arose from a Queen’s decree in 1953 stating that anyone who didn't buy any when watching tennis would lose their kneecaps.)
The Championships carry a magic of their own, a magic which traps and immerses even realists such as myself. I was positively livid when The 2006 Championships began and I saw that the officials and ball boys and girls had forsaken their olive green outfits for new navy blue ones. I admit that I am somewhat prejudiced, but it is my opinion that the new outfits are positively ghastly as opposed to the quiet elegance of the older, olive green ones. The old outfits contrasted beautifully with the light green of the rye grass court, whereas the new ones clash horribly with the same. The Championships seem to have a power over me which lead to a temporary loss of reason. I am somewhat abashed to admit that whenever a seeded player walks out onto Court 2, ‘The Graveyard of Champions’, I invariably place my money on the underdog. (Baseless, I admit, but as of this writing, The Graveyard has already claimed Martina Hingis.)
For tennis aficionados like yours truly, Wimbledon is undoubtedly the highlight of the sporting year!! This, in spite of the fabled fickle summer weather of the British Isles. Ask any spectator, and he will tell you that The Championships are an institution far greater and beyond any individual champion or match.
What Wimbledon means to me cannot be expressed in mere words. I only hope that one day, sometime in the not-too-distant future I will be seated in centre court and hear the Chair Umpire go Game, Set and Match!!
Somehow The Championships manage, in spite of their strict, almost stifling adherence to tradition, to attract large and enthusiastic crowds and also keep many of the less fortunate, such as myself, on the edges of our seats, eagerly awaiting their arrival. Or, perhaps, they do so due to the reasons mentioned above…..
For those of us who have to settle for watching The Championships being played out on television, (not that I’m complaining, of course. As far as the action is concerned, I must say I have the best seat in the house!!) Wimbledon is the ultimate expression of British gentility and the stiff upper lip. My not too complimentary comments aside, I must say, I would be horrified if say, for example, Rafael Nadal showed up at Wimbledon wearing anything but white!!
Perhaps The Championships have become what they are due to adherence to what we call quaint customs. I for one, cannot conceive of a Wimbledon without the players in ‘mostly white’, female players being addressed as ‘Miss’ or ‘Mrs., any number of references to ‘Henman Hill’ (the nickname persists, even though most of the British know, deep down inside, that any chance Tim Henman had of winning The Championship was only ever fleeting at best, and is now all but non-existent. Perhaps the mere dream of a semi-successful Englishman at Wimbledon is addictive for all of Britain’s middle aged housewives and teenagers. Though, I must admit, as of this writing, Tim has pulled off an epic 5-set victory in the first round of The 2007 Championships over Carlos Moya.), the Royal Family in attendance and, of course, strawberries and cream!! :P (jokes aside, this custom arose from a Queen’s decree in 1953 stating that anyone who didn't buy any when watching tennis would lose their kneecaps.)
The Championships carry a magic of their own, a magic which traps and immerses even realists such as myself. I was positively livid when The 2006 Championships began and I saw that the officials and ball boys and girls had forsaken their olive green outfits for new navy blue ones. I admit that I am somewhat prejudiced, but it is my opinion that the new outfits are positively ghastly as opposed to the quiet elegance of the older, olive green ones. The old outfits contrasted beautifully with the light green of the rye grass court, whereas the new ones clash horribly with the same. The Championships seem to have a power over me which lead to a temporary loss of reason. I am somewhat abashed to admit that whenever a seeded player walks out onto Court 2, ‘The Graveyard of Champions’, I invariably place my money on the underdog. (Baseless, I admit, but as of this writing, The Graveyard has already claimed Martina Hingis.)
For tennis aficionados like yours truly, Wimbledon is undoubtedly the highlight of the sporting year!! This, in spite of the fabled fickle summer weather of the British Isles. Ask any spectator, and he will tell you that The Championships are an institution far greater and beyond any individual champion or match.
What Wimbledon means to me cannot be expressed in mere words. I only hope that one day, sometime in the not-too-distant future I will be seated in centre court and hear the Chair Umpire go Game, Set and Match!!
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
THE PRICE OF SAFETY???
The last man on earth walks into a bar……..
What does he say???
My dear perceptive reader; great men have mused upon what epidemics did to human relationships; how fear and mistrust managed to disintegrate that which had held people together.
The year is 1348. The place-Southern France. The Black Death – the bubonic plague sweeps across the area. Over the next decade, it will claim full ¾th’s of Europe’s population. The infected are shunned, the healthy are feared!! Parents and children don’t eat at the same table anymore; the body politic begins to rot. “You don’t get sick if you stay to yourself” is the prevailing sentiment. Unfortunately, you don’t get well either!
The plague was defining in history. It took the world nearly a century to rise out of the carnage. And when Europe finally recovered, it did so in style!!
The Renaissance- art and culture at their best. The Golden Age of Europe. However, the later years of the Renaissance were black indeed. Immorality and corruption were rampant. The Church itself was not spared. Pope Alexander feared for his life and that of the Church itself. He sent a fiery Dominican monk, Savonarola, to Florence, the heart of the renaissance, a city which made Rome itself pale in comparison, and yet no bigger than 20 of today’s city blocks. What follows is one of the greatest tragedies in the world of art, the Bonfire of the Vanities, the full story of which is told elsewhere. The stage is now set for Christianity to strike back……. The Reformation.
All this because after the dark ages, humans no longer trusted one another. Most didn’t even trust their immediate family. ‘twas an age of betrayal and treachery!
Time heals all, say you?? Strange thing, time. It weighs most on those who have it the least. “The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short”- Leviathan, by Hobbes. Time is the guy at the amusement park who paints shirts with an airbrush. He sprays out the color in a fine mist until its just lonely particles floating in the air, waiting to be plastered in place. And what comes of it all, the design on the shirt at the end of the day usually isn’t much to see. Whoever buys the shirt, the one great patron of the theme park, wakes up in the morning and wonders what he ever saw in it.
We’re the paint in that analogy. Time is what disperses us. Time is no Da Vinci, not even a Rembrandt, just a cheap Jackson Pollock.
I’m not sure what the point of the above is. Perhaps it is just a commentary on the mistrust I see all around us. It is a mistrust which leads to isolation, and much more. How many people do we see around us suffering from depression or analogous disorders?? Ponder this, my dear perceptive reader…….
The last man on earth walks into a bar……..
What does he say???
Drink, I’d like another bartender, please!!
What does he say???
My dear perceptive reader; great men have mused upon what epidemics did to human relationships; how fear and mistrust managed to disintegrate that which had held people together.
The year is 1348. The place-Southern France. The Black Death – the bubonic plague sweeps across the area. Over the next decade, it will claim full ¾th’s of Europe’s population. The infected are shunned, the healthy are feared!! Parents and children don’t eat at the same table anymore; the body politic begins to rot. “You don’t get sick if you stay to yourself” is the prevailing sentiment. Unfortunately, you don’t get well either!
The plague was defining in history. It took the world nearly a century to rise out of the carnage. And when Europe finally recovered, it did so in style!!
The Renaissance- art and culture at their best. The Golden Age of Europe. However, the later years of the Renaissance were black indeed. Immorality and corruption were rampant. The Church itself was not spared. Pope Alexander feared for his life and that of the Church itself. He sent a fiery Dominican monk, Savonarola, to Florence, the heart of the renaissance, a city which made Rome itself pale in comparison, and yet no bigger than 20 of today’s city blocks. What follows is one of the greatest tragedies in the world of art, the Bonfire of the Vanities, the full story of which is told elsewhere. The stage is now set for Christianity to strike back……. The Reformation.
All this because after the dark ages, humans no longer trusted one another. Most didn’t even trust their immediate family. ‘twas an age of betrayal and treachery!
Time heals all, say you?? Strange thing, time. It weighs most on those who have it the least. “The life of man is solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short”- Leviathan, by Hobbes. Time is the guy at the amusement park who paints shirts with an airbrush. He sprays out the color in a fine mist until its just lonely particles floating in the air, waiting to be plastered in place. And what comes of it all, the design on the shirt at the end of the day usually isn’t much to see. Whoever buys the shirt, the one great patron of the theme park, wakes up in the morning and wonders what he ever saw in it.
We’re the paint in that analogy. Time is what disperses us. Time is no Da Vinci, not even a Rembrandt, just a cheap Jackson Pollock.
I’m not sure what the point of the above is. Perhaps it is just a commentary on the mistrust I see all around us. It is a mistrust which leads to isolation, and much more. How many people do we see around us suffering from depression or analogous disorders?? Ponder this, my dear perceptive reader…….
The last man on earth walks into a bar……..
What does he say???
Drink, I’d like another bartender, please!!
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