[FoRK] Eli, atheism, religion, memes, synchronicity
Jeff Bone
<jbone at place.org> on
Tue Dec 4 09:39:12 PST 2007
(Regardless of the practicality of the notion of FAI, one very large
reason our aforementioned buddy Eli would never achieve it anyway is
that he spends all his time holding forth on matters of philosophy,
etc. In a strange bout of synchronicity yesterday, he wrote this...
quintessentially Eli, somebody needs to do the remote differential
diagnosis on his corpus, fascinating really.)
http://www.overcomingbias.com/2007/12/supercritical-u.html
Every now and then, you see people arguing over whether atheism is a
"religion". As I touched on in Purpose and Pragmatism, arguing over
the meaning of a word nearly always means that you've lost track of
the original question. How might this argument arise to begin with?
An atheist is holding forth, blaming "religion" for the Inquisition,
the Crusades, and various conflicts with or within Islam. The
religious one may reply, "But atheism is also a religion, because you
also have beliefs about God; you believe God doesn't exist." Then
the atheist answers, "If atheism is a religion, then not collecting
stamps is a hobby," and the argument begins.
Or the one may reply, "But horrors just as great were inflicted by
Stalin, who was an atheist, and who suppressed churches in the name
of atheism; therefore you are wrong to blame the violence on
religion." Now the atheist may be tempted to reply "No true
Scotsman", saying, "Stalin's religion was Communism." The religious
one answers "If Communism is a religion, then Star Wars fandom is a
government," and the argument begins.
Should a "religious" person be defined as someone who has a definite
opinion about the existence of at least one God, e.g., assigning a
probability lower than 10% or higher than 90% to the existence of
Zeus? Or should a "religious" person be defined as someone who has a
positive opinion, say a probability higher than 90%, for the
existence of at least one God? In the former case, Stalin was
"religious"; in the latter case, Stalin was "not religious".
But this is exactly the wrong way to look at the problem. What you
really want to know - what the argument was originally about - is
why, at certain points in human history, large groups of people were
slaughtered and tortured, ostensibly in the name of an idea.
Redefining a word won't change the facts of history one way or the
other.
Communism was a complex catastrophe, and there may be no single why,
no single critical link in the chain of causality. But if I had to
suggest an ur-mistake, it would be... well, I'll let God say it for me:
"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, emphasis added)
This was likewise the rule which Stalin set for Communism, and Hitler
for Nazism: if your brother tries to tell you why Marx is wrong, if
your son tries to tell you the Jews are not planning world conquest,
then do not debate him or set forth your own evidence; do not perform
replicable experiments or examine history; but turn him in at once to
the secret police.
Yesterday, I suggested that one key to resisting an affective death
spiral is the principle of "burdensome details" - just remembering to
question the specific details of each additional nice claim about the
Great Idea. (It's not trivial advice. People often don't remember
to do this when they're listening to a futurist sketching amazingly
detailed projections about the wonders of tomorrow, let alone when
they're thinking about their favorite idea ever.) This wouldn't get
rid of the halo effect, but it would hopefully reduce the resonance
to below criticality, so that one nice-sounding claim triggers less
than 1.0 additional nice-sounding claims, on average.
The diametric opposite of this advice, which sends the halo effect
supercritical, is when it feels wrong to argue against any positive
claim about the Great Idea. Politics is the mind-killer. Arguments
are soldiers. Once you know which side you're on, you must support
all favorable claims, and argue against all unfavorable claims.
Otherwise it's like giving aid and comfort to the enemy, or stabbing
your friends in the back.
If...
...you feel that contradicting someone else who makes a flawed nice
claim in favor of evolution, would be giving aid and comfort to the
creationists;
...you feel like you get spiritual credit for each nice thing you say
about God, and arguing about it would interfere with your
relationship with God;
...you have the distinct sense that the other people in the room will
dislike you for "not supporting our troops" if you argue against the
latest war;
...saying anything against Communism gets you stoned to death shot;
...then the affective death spiral has gone supercritical. It is now
a Super Happy Death Spiral.
It's not religion, as such, that is the key categorization, relative
to our original question: "What makes the slaughter?" The best
distinction I've heard between "supernatural" and "naturalistic"
worldviews is that a supernatural worldview asserts the existence of
ontologically basic mental substances, like spirits, while a
naturalistic worldview reduces mental phenomena to nonmental parts.
(Can't find original source.) Focusing on this as the source of the
problem buys into religious exceptionalism. Supernaturalist claims
are worth distinguishing, because they always turn out to be wrong
for fairly fundamental reasons. But it's still just one kind of
mistake.
An affective death spiral can nucleate around supernatural beliefs;
especially monotheisms whose pinnacle is a Super Happy Agent, defined
primarily by agreeing with any nice statement about it; especially
meme complexes grown sophisticated enough to assert supernatural
punishments for disbelief. But the death spiral can also start
around a political innovation, a charismatic leader, belief in racial
destiny, or an economic hypothesis. The lesson of history is that
affective death spirals are dangerous whether or not they happen to
involve supernaturalism. Religion isn't special enough, as a class
of mistake, to be the key problem.
Sam Harris came closer when he put the accusing finger on faith. If
you don't place an appropriate burden of proof on each and every
additional nice claim, the affective resonance gets started very
easily. Look at the poor New Agers. Christianity developed defenses
against criticism, arguing for the wonders of faith; New Agers
culturally inherit the cached thought that faith is positive, but
lack Christianity's exclusionary scripture to keep out competing
memes. New Agers end up in happy death spirals around stars, trees,
magnets, diets, spells, unicorns...
But the affective death spiral turns much deadlier after criticism
becomes a sin, or a gaffe, or a crime. There are things in this
world that are worth praising greatly, and you can't flatly say that
praise beyond a certain point is forbidden. But there is never an
Idea so true that it's wrong to criticize any argument that supports
it. Never. Never ever never for ever. That is flat. The vast
majority of possible beliefs in a nontrivial answer space are false,
and likewise, the vast majority of possible supporting arguments for
a true belief are also false, and not even the happiest idea can
change that.
And it is triple ultra forbidden to respond with violence. There are
a very few injunctions in the art of rationality that have no ifs,
ands, buts, or escape clauses. This is one of them. Bad argument
gets counterargument. Does not get bullet. Never. Never ever never
for ever.
Posted by Eliezer Yudkowsky at 11:40 AM in Psychology, Religion |
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