Against Marriage Equality? Try This Thought Experiment

I have a thought experiment for those of you who oppose same-sex marriage. (For the sake of this experiment, and based on the data, I will assume you are heterosexual.)

Suppose for a moment that you wake up and the slate is clean. If you are married, you are now single. If you have children, you are now childless. Everything is different, and you are unaware of the life you lived before.

Like most people, you have a drive to be employed, to find love, to start a family, to raise children, but you are starting anew.

I mentioned above that everything is different. Including your sexuality. Remember the first time you felt attracted to a member of the opposite sex -- that first crush? Imagine that attraction to the opposite sex is completely foreign to you. You do not feel any attraction to the opposite sex, just as you felt no attraction to the same sex when you began to develop crushes on the opposite sex in your school days.

Now, before we move forward, it's important to dismiss the obvious objection to such a thought experiment: our sexuality is defined by a combination of genetic, hormonal, and environmental influences. (When did you make the decision to be straight?)

So, here you are: a clean slate, a desire to move forward in your new life, find love, and start a family. However, despite your completely natural (and almost always unchangeable) attraction to the same sex, you realize that you will never be able to marry, form a family, and enjoy all the benefits afforded to married couples and families.

You see that your legislators are hoping to pass legislation that specifically discriminates against you. Organizations are raising millions of dollars to ensure that you, a taxpaying citizen, do not have the same rights as other taxpaying citizens whose sexual orientations, while different from yours, are determined by the same genetic, hormonal, and environmental influences.

Imagine that you are religious, and you attend church on Sundays. Imagine that your pastor and your congregation do not accept you because of who you are. They denounce you as a sinner, a sexual deviant, and an abomination to God.

Imagine that millions of people honestly believe that your pursuit of the same thing that they have (a spouse and a family) is going to destroy a social institution.  They claim that you are harming children (many even claim you are likely to be a pedophile) and that you are a threat to society.

Imagine that you are hospitalized, and the most important person in your life is not able to visit you. Imagine that the person who knows you the best, your soul mate, is not legally allowed to make important medical or financial decisions for you if you are incapacitated.

How does this life feel to you? How is your outlook on life? How do you plan to navigate the rest of your life in a place that will not accept you, a place where you are a 2nd-class citizen, a place where any sort of family you attempt to build will not accepted, a place which has made it clear that you are not welcome?

If you don't feel the least bit of sadness, frustration, or injustice at this point, you're either not being honest with yourself, or you're incapable of empathy.

Rabbi Thinks Non-Believers Actually Believe (But I Don't Believe Him)

Over at Huffington Post, Rabbi Adam Jacobs tries to make a case that everyone, regardless of what they tell you (or what they think they believe), believes in God.

While I was willing to give the Rabbi the benefit of the doubt, it didn't take long to realize that I don't think he knows what he's talking about.

In the post The God Test: Why Really Everyone Believes writes:

Try as I might, I continue to be startled by the mindset of the non-believer. It's not so much that I can't grasp the notion that someone could believe that there is no Creator and that there is no grand design to the universe, but rather that so many of their choices and thinking patterns seem to suggest that they believe something quite unlike that which they profess. Often, I've inquired of non-believers if it at all vexes them that nothing that they have ever done or will ever do will make the slightest difference to anyone on any level? After all, one random grouping of molecules interacting with another has no inherent meaning or value. I still await the brave soul (or neuron complex if you prefer) who will respond that I am quite correct; that no thought, deed, action or impulse is any more significant or meaningful than any other, that statements like "I would like to enslave all of humanity" and "I would like a chocolate bar" are functionally equivalent, and that their very own thoughts and words are intrinsically suspect as they are nothing more than some indiscriminate electro-chemical impulses. Until then, I will carry on believing that most "non-believers" actually believe a bit more than they generally let on, or are willing to admit to themselves. That, or that they have contented themselves to willfully act out fantasies that bear no relation to their purported worldview.

Rabbi Jacobs makes his first misstep when he suggests that the very nature of non-belief requires the non-believer to concede that his or her actions and accomplishments lack meaning or value. Either Jacobs has not talked to many non-believers, or he chooses to ignore the fact that meaning does not require a creator or a religion.

Jacobs poses three questions to non-believers. He believes that the non-believers' answers to these questions will likely prove that they actually do believe in God. He says, "I posit that if you are inclined to answer any of them from a non-materialist perspective then you might secretly suspect that there are grander cosmic forces at work than those discernible on a purely empiric level, or, possibly, that you are a victim of societal programming."

What are the questions?

1. Would you be willing to sell your parent's remains for dog food?

2. You and someone you dislike are stranded on a desert island with a functioning ham radio. One day you hear that there has been a terrible earthquake that has sent a massive tsunami hurtling directly for your island and you both have only one hour to live. Does it make any difference whether you spend your last hour alive comforting and making amends with your (formerly) hated companion or smashing his head in with fallen, unripe coconuts?

3. Is love, art, beauty or morality intrinsically significant?

It is apparent that the good Rabbi is unable to understand that respect, compassion, empathy, heritage, ritual, morality, and pleasure can all exist outside of religion.

I'll address Jacobs' questions one at a time:

1. As a non-believer, I would not sell my parents' remains for dog food because I am an evolved human being with a strong sense of respect for family, heritage, and ritual. Do I believe that by not disposing of my parents' remains in an appropriate manner I would be punished in some metaphysical sense? No. Do I believe that my parents would be aware of my lack of respect from beyond the grave? No. Then why would I not take the materialistic route, and accept the dog food? Because -- get this -- non-believers actually are capable of placing value on non-material things. Like believers, we evolved to be ritualistic beings with a strong sense of heritage. Because humans have had rituals associated with the burial of loved ones for at least 130,000 years, and because these rituals remind us of who we are, and where we come from, we (yes, even non-believers) find comfort in these rituals. There is a psychological and emotional component to closure (obviously) that transcends religion. There are many non-religious components to a proper burial (respect, sanitation, etc.), just as there are religious components (the afterlife, etc.). These rituals, regardless of their origins, do not lose their importance if one does not believe in a supernatural being.

2. The reason I would not smash my 'hated companion' with a coconut upon hearing about the tsunami is twofold:

• First, as a skeptic, I understand that, at times, when we attempt to predict the behavior of natural phenomena, we can be wrong. Perhaps, the tsunami will not destroy us. Perhaps, we would both find a way to survive. All humans have a survival instinct, and non-believers are not exempt from this. 

• Secondly, this question is insane. Without the Ten Commandments as a source of morality, and without the fear of eternal hellfire, humans are still quite reluctant to murder, steal, and cause harm. This is called empathy. Lack of belief in a higher power in no way makes it okay to murder anyone, even if the world is about to end, and even if that person is a real pain in the ass. If I were to find myself in the desert island scenario, as a human being with compassion and a evolved predisposition for altruistic behavior, I would wish to comfort my fellow human being in our final hours, just as I would wish to be comforted. It would matter not that I might be rewarded in the afterlife for such compassion -- it would simply be the right thing to do. Also, there's that psychological need for closure that we were discussing above. If this particular scenario is not a good time to seek cognitive closure, I don't know what is.

3. Of course, love, art, beauty and morality are intrinsically significant. The reason that we find them significant is actually quite simple: they evoke feelings of pleasure. Humans place value on things that bring pleasure. When we are in love, when we view wonderful artistic expressions or natural beauty, or when we do good things, we feel pleasure, warmth, and appreciation. These things have value not only to us, but to others. As social beings with evolved capacities for reciprocity and compassion, we gain pleasure from producing art and music. We gain pleasure from expressing love to others, and by performing acts of kindness. Art can be a source of communication. Beauty, love, and morality enhance our lives and our well-being. I would ask you, Rabbi, why do we find expressions of love in animals? Why do birds, who have no known capacity for religious thought, sing or exhibit their beautiful plumage? All of these things you list (love, art, beauty, morality) exist in nature: apes and birds woo mates with song and beauty. They participate in altruistic behavior daily. Yet it is not required that they believe in a creator.

I find Jacobs' view of non-belief to be rather sad. It mirrors the view of many -- that without religion, life is meaningless, or that without religion, society would dissolve into barbarism, greed, and anarchy. This view shows how very little Jacobs, and those who share his views, understands about where humans came from, and how we got here. If we study the evolution of religion alongside the evolution of humans (and of societies), we learn that we were social, compassionate beings long before the God of monotheism arrived on the scene. I am not denying the role of religion in shaping humanity and society, but just as we evolved morality without the Abrahamic God, morality will continue to evolve regardless of a belief in said god. Just as polytheistic (and other pre-monotheistic) humans exhibited moral codes, a hypothetical post-Abrahamic society of the future would also exhibit moral codes. Many of these codes would certainly have ties to pre-monotheistic societies, just as many of these future codes might improve upon the sometimes barbaric and primitive moral codes of the Bible.

Jacobs concludes:

If you are willing to define the human experience as nothing more than an arbitrary series of chemicals, atoms and other blind and indifferent forces acting in concert, then at the end of the day, you necessarily concede that human emotion and experience are intrinsically meaningless. What difference, then, does it make if you (or others) choose to completely disregard concepts like kindness, decency and love? The non-believer is duty bound to say that it makes no difference whatsoever, as meaning -- in all of its varied splendor -- resides exclusively with those who acknowledge its basis. One that is neither blind nor random nor physical.

If you chose the non-materialistic answer to any of these questions (no, yes, yes) you may be more of a believer than you think.

*sigh*

Rabbi, most non-believers do not define the human experience as nothing more than arbitrary series of chemicals, atoms, etc. And those who might, are not saying in any way that human emotion and experience are intrinsically meaningless.

Science may tell us that we arrived via a series of chemical reactions, mutations, and a complex array of mechanisms. But at the end of the day, we are here, and we will do what we will do. It took us 4.5 billion years to arrive, and over the course of that amazing journey we developed the ability to create and to find meaning. We do good things because good actions promote societal cohesiveness, good-will, and ultimately, survival. We ostracize those who do bad things, such as killing others, because such behavior threatens that cohesiveness and survival. Even if we took religion completely out of the equation for everyone, most of us would still choose to do the right thing. As social beings, we want to belong. As survivalists, we want to survive and reproduce. And as empathetic beings, we want to make others happy. Because, ultimately, we want to be happy. We can't be happy when everyone is killing everyone.

The meaning of life is up to each of us. We do not have to understand where the first life came from in order to appreciate how fortunate we are to be alive. Originally, life's purpose was simply to survive, to replicate. And now, our purposes are defined by what we choose to do with our lives.

'Children Full of Life': Lessons in Compassion

We keep hearing about the decline of empathy in America's youth.  Empathy is an evolved trait, and is not confined to humans, or even to primates.  Infants have been shown to exhibit empathic behavior.

Although it's unclear what could account for a decline, Sarah Konrath of the University of Michigan at Ann Arbor theorizes that increased isolation in recent decades has played a significant role.  It's not that we are no longer "hard-wired" for empathy, but that it is more fluid than we had perhaps believed.  This is not necessarily bad news.  It means that, although we can become less empathic through increased isolation, we can encourage and nurture empathy to create a more empathic society.

Enter homeroom teacher Toshiro Kanamori and his 4th grade class in a primary school in Kanazawa, northwest of Tokyo. He, and his class, are the subject of an award-winning documentary entitled Children Full of Life. The film was released in 2003, but I was only recently made aware of it, and I think it deserves much wider circulation. Thankfully, for those like myself who missed this gem, the film can be viewed online in full.

The film should serve as an example to parents and educators everywhere. It is a powerful reminder that happiness is an important part of living a successful life. And in order for us to live happy, successful lives, especially in our modern and increasingly isolated society, we must learn the importance of compassion, openness, and communication.

From the NHK Japan Prize Jury Comments:

This is a simple story, well told, that captures the essence of education. The program is an intimate portrait of a teacher and his classroom which subtlety presents a path for all educators who face the challenge of preparing students for life. Unobtrusively capturing extraordinary moments of drama and emotion inside a single Japanese classroom, the documentary demonstrates how individual teachers occasionally exhibit remarkable powers to shape the future of their students.

The documentary elicits tears of laughter and sadness as students and viewers discover the value of sharing powerful emotions, giving meaning to the life and death issues that arise in the classroom. Incidents of bullying, language instruction and outdoor activities are all opportunities to educate in this “School of Life”. Never preachy nor pedantic, the documentary reduces the myriad issues in education to a simple message - learning to care.

It is a powerful and inspiring piece of work.  It underscores the important role our educators play in our children's lives.  It urges us to address the changing educational needs of children in our rapidly evolving and increasingly complex societies.

Part 1 below (each successive part can be accessed at the end of each part):