Readers from the UK may have heard about a recent discrimination case in which 14 year old Sarika Watkins-Singh won the right to wear her plain steel kara to school.

The school she attends had excluded her due to her insistence on wearing the kara which contravened its rule disallowing all jewellery. There have been quite a few similar cases over the years. Predictably, any concession to non-Christian religions in these matters yields cries of “Political correctness gone mad!” as can be seen from about half the comments on the BBC News Have your say page.

My first thoughts were in support of Sarika. I don’t see the harm in her wearing her kara, except perhaps for sport or metalwork classes for which she is apparently happy to take it off. In fact I’m all for freedom of belief, up until the point it infringes on other people’s rights. For example if people were carrying real daggers, I think this presents a danger (as much to the wearer as anyone else) and directly contravenes the law regarding offensive weapons. I don’t think bangles like this are hurting anyone. In fact I don’t see the problem with any kind of jewellery in schools.

That is, in fact, my point. It’s certainly not fair if only religious jewellery is allowed. I don’t see anything special about a religious belief over any other kind of belief. If someone wanted to wear their grandmother’s necklace simply because of the sentimental value it had for them, that should be considered equally important as religious jewellery and treated with the same respect. Not to do so is in itself a form of discrimination on the grounds of belief (or lack of belief).

I understand that the school wishes to “create a community ethos” (according to a quote in the Guardian) by enforcing uniform rules. Perhaps the worry is that if jewellery is allowed in schools it will encourage expensive bling and a separation of the haves from the have-nots. I don’t work in a school, so I’m not sure how much of a problem this might be, but I don’t see the harm in letting pupils express their individuality. There are plenty of other things they can do to foster a sense of community, such as inter-school competition, sports, debating, etc. Expressing their individuality is a good thing. It’s what people in real communities do. I don’t see how pretending or insisting that everyone is the same is at all helpful. Children should leave school with at least the inkling that different people believe different things.

So I support Sarika in wearing her kara, just as long as the same rules are applied to everyone regardless of whether their symbols and beliefs are religious or not.

I’ve recently got around to reading the excerpt from the “Very Short Introduction” on Hinduism that came with the Independent a while ago. The headline is that I don’t feel any the wiser.

I can only speculate as to why Hinduism is so diverse and eclectic, it could be its long history or the plethora of religious texts relevant to Hinduism. In any case, it seems quite difficult to sum up what Hindus believe. To show what I mean, here are a couple of quotes from Wikipedia:

Hinduism is a diverse system of thought with beliefs spanning monotheism, polytheism, panentheism, pantheism, monism, and atheism. It is sometimes referred to as henotheistic (i.e., involving devotion to a single god while accepting the existence of others), but any such term is an overgeneralization.

Which seems to cover most things.

Prominent themes in (but not restricted to) Hindu beliefs include Dharma (ethics/duties), Samsāra (The continuing cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth), Karma (action and subsequent reaction), Moksha (liberation from samsara), and the various Yogas (paths or practices).

Which is the good-sounding stuff that seems to crop up in most religions. Unfortunately, the Dharma bit  leads some of its followers to insist that the caste system is an essential part of ethics and duties.

There have also been a number of purported miracles within the Hindu world. The VSI book describes the miraculous consumption of milk by statues of Ganesh in September 1995. Ganesh is usually depicted as half-elephant and presumably drank the milk through the trunk. As an aside, I mentioned this to a friend who suggested hooking up a Ganesh statue to one of the Virgin Mary which was crying milk. The two could be locked in a milky embrace. I like that image!

Hinduism seems to be tightly bound up with Indian tradition, so much so that it is hard to tell one from the other. The religious traditions identify both Hindus and Indian people equally. Like most religions Hinduism has its fair share of stories, some more insightful than others. One of the more interesting examples from the VSI involves a young man “Shvetaketu”, being taught by his father about how the same essence is in everything. He takes the example of a fig, whose essence exists in the fig, the fig tree and the seed. In one sense this is insightful as the genetic code of the fig is indeed in all three things, however as often happens the insight is extrapolated in some less helpful directions:

“And that’s how you are, Shvetaketu!”… It expresses the idea that the truth which underlies everything and is its essence is also identical with Shvetaketu’s own self…

This doesn’t make any sense to me. All of which reminds me how much complexity there is in all religious traditions - something that’s easy to forget when thinking about the more familiar religions.

Perhaps this Very Short Introduction was not as well written or thought-out as the others, or maybe Hinduism is just very complex and ill-defined, but I still don’t feel I understand Hinduism properly.

Plenty of people have written about whether atheists should evangelise, but that’s not quite what this post is about.

Most people, especially atheists, are acutely aware of how annoying evangelism can be. This might be one reason why I think the vast majority of atheists don’t talk about their beliefs. Not only do they not wish to become an irritating preacher, they fear that expressing their beliefs may invite tedious religious lectures. We don’t go knocking on doors asking if people have thought about atheism partly because we know the reputation Jehovah’s Witnesses have for being irksome evangelists.

For the record, I do think atheists should evangelise, although in a passive and respectful way. I’m in agreement with Ebonmuse when he says we should: “…inform people of our existence without intruding directly into their lives…”.

So I’d like to hear your opinions on what kind of behaviour is acceptable when evangelising. I’m talking about evangelism in the broadest possible sense. Where you are evangelising Christianity, atheism, healthy eating, a political party, feminism or your favourite music, I think similar guidelines should apply.

So what is reasonable? What is effective?

I think in many cases what is most effective at getting your message across is likely to coincide with what is thought to be reasonable and respectful behaviour. People are less likely to want to hear about your alternative rock band if you barge into their house, insult them and make their children cry. However, there may be cases that are not so obvious.

I know evangelism of any kind rarely converts people on the spot, but it may generate some sympathy or curiosity for a point of view the listener had not previously considered.

I’d start by suggesting the following:

1. Be willing to take “No” for an answer…

Greta Christina wrote recently about online anonymity and its pros and cons in discussion. I find when reading her posts I often feel compelled to comment at length and in this case the length was sufficient to justify an entire blog post.

The thrust of her argument is that although online anonymity is a mixed blessing, it is still a blessing.

The fact that people feel less bound by social convention online than they do in person doesn’t just give them license to be rude where they would otherwise feel pressured to be polite. It also gives them license to tell the truth as they see it, where they would otherwise feel pressured to go along with socially acceptable lies — or stay silent in the face of them.

I agree with her on this. So why am I writing? “Greta Christina thinks anonymous online discussion is a good thing” is hardly news. However, I do have a few things to add.

There are more benefits to online discussions. I think the quality of my debate is far higher online than face to face. Debating in person is not something I feel particularly good at, although I am trying to improve through practice. Usually, I find my memory lacking, my temperature rising and I often get nervous in the face of confrontation. Even if the topic isn’t inherently emotive I have an emotional reaction, which doesn’t help me get my point across. Plus it’s embarrassing and frustrating!

However, online both parties have more time to cool off and digest what the other person has said and make their own points as precisely as possible. There’s less temptation to blurt out the first thing which comes into your head, which may not be what you’d really like to say. That’s in an ideal world. On the flip side it can turn into a cut-and-paste war of quotes and links where no one really thinks for themselves. Debating online also doesn’t stop people from typing in the first thing which comes into their heads or from responding emotionally or ignoring their opponent’s points - but I do think it makes it easier to be a good debater - if you’re willing to take the time and effort.

On numerous occasions I’ve found myself feeling like I’m losing a face-to-face debate despite the poor quality of my opponent’s arguments. Only hours later do I realise what I should’ve said. I’m sure I’m not the only one who has experienced this. It’s extremely frustrating. Anyone who’s got into a conversation with a barrister (courtroom lawyer) will know what I mean. They’re quick-witted, persuasive and good at talking. Some of them however, seem unable to get out of the competitive mindset. There’s definitely something fishy about their arguments, but you can’t quite marshal your own arguments fast enough to catch them out. Their aim is not to find out what’s true, but to convince a jury (whether real or imagined) of what’s true. It’s not investigation, it’s marketing.

Part of what I do for this blog is face to face debates with people, so I’d like to improve the way I debate in person. I sometimes wish I could take some of those wit-powered debates online - asking them to “step online” (rather than “step outside”!). Obviously this isn’t always practical.

So failing that I try to research the topics which interest me online beforehand then avoid getting into any debates for which I haven’t already considered the arguments and counter-arguments. That might sound like cheating, but for now I think it’s better than getting angry, upset and frustrated.

I was motivated to read Awakening of a Jehovah’s Witness - Escape from the Watchtower Society after meeting some Jehovah’s Witnesses in a predictable situation; they came to my door. My conversations with them aroused my curiosity to find out more from a knowledgeable but (now) external source.

The author, Diane Wilson was a member of the Jehovah’s Witnesses for 25 years and her book describes her experience as a Witness, her personal struggle to escape and the discoveries she made along the way. She describes specific incidents which demonstrate the invasive controlling influence of the society. For example, at one time she was forced to redecorate a piece of her own furniture after some other Witnesses visited her house to discover apparently paganistic heart symbols on it. The fact that the rules for behaviour and dress are so strict and members are encouraged to inform on one another makes for a deeply unpleasant environment. The punishment for violation of these rules is either humiliation in front of the other Witnesses or in the worst cases disfellowshipping. In effect this means cutting the person off from the only social group they have - Witnesses are strongly discouraged from having friends outside of the society.

The book is highly readable and gripping, although the subject is obviously quite disturbing. Individuality is squashed and truth is spelt with a capital ‘T’ - always a bad sign in my opinion. Most notably she describes the reaction of the Witnesses who were members during the failed 1975 apocalypse prediction.

For the reader who has never been part of a cult-like religion, it’s hard not to hop up and down yelling, “Just leave them! Get out! You don’t need them! They’re crazy!”. At first it’s frustrating and difficult to understand, but the author does a fairly good job of explaining how she’s feeling and why - despite being desperately unhappy - she feels unable to leave. Lacking in confidence from the outset, she blames herself for not “Getting it” and continues to put up with the emotionally abusive Watchtower Society. The parallels with a person trying to leave an abusive partner are apparent, if not explicit.

Diane includes accounts of conversations with her therapist, whom she had to visit in secret, as external counselling is strongly disapproved of. This adds much insight and clarity both to her thoughts and the reader’s understanding.

The latter part of the book shows some of the research the author did in the process of examining her beliefs. There are some very interesting comparisons of Watchtower publications and their flip-flopping doctrines. Particularly eye-opening were the apparent changes relating to medical practices such as accepting organ transplants or vaccinations.

Reading this book I got the impression that the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ branch of Christianity is like many other religions, only concentrated. Many religions encourage their members to behave in an insular way, socialising mostly within the group, not questioning the religious leaders or conforming to group behavioural norms. Few take it to the extremes of the Watchtower Society.

Overall the book should be essential reading for any Jehovah’s Witnesses - perhaps it should be published in a mock-bible binding to aid with secrecy. For everyone else it provides a valuable insight into both cult-psychology and the running of the Society.  She mentions that other Kingdom Halls (JW equivalent of a church) were less strict in some respects. However, judging by the numerous positive reviews from former Witnesses, her experience seems likely to be typical.

A common atheistic argument is that any kind of divine judgement which requires people to have heard and believe a particular religion is unfair. This was in fact the first argument against religion that occurred to me as a teenager and set me on the road away from Christianity.

In response to this, in the plethora of comments which followed an article on de-conversion.com, a Christian called Joe advanced the following argument by analogy.

…if you won free tickets to Hawaii, but were told some others will not be going there because they refused the free tickets, would you give up your free ticket? Would you reject the free trip to Hawaii, even though you knew that the other people had been “offered” the same thing but rejected it? How lame and stupid would that be?

His analogy differs slightly from the commonly accepted ideas of the Bible. The tickets are offered but not accepted. This is different from Christianity, and most religions, which are not offered to everyone, because not everyone gets to hear about them.

During a discussion in a pub a Christian friend of mine recently made a similar argument. His version imagined the protagonist bobbing around in the water as the Titanic sunk. As a helicopter approaches and offers to pull them from the water, they wouldn’t say, “Hey, why aren’t you saving that guy too?”.

As is often the case in face to face debates, that sounded wrong to me, but I didn’t have an answer ready off the top of my head. However, on later consideration, the analogy of the helicopter rescue is flawed for a different reason. It would be unreasonable to complain that the helicopter is not rescuing everyone because the helicopter:

1. Does not have the ability to do so.
2. Does not claim to provide perfect justice.

Now it seems obvious that neither of those apply to any judgemental deity. Most monotheistic deities are generally considered omnipotent and at least in the case of the Christian God, having perfect judgement is reputedly one of his qualities. So when people question a doctrine that requires belief in a particular god for salvation, they’re asking “What kind of justice is that?”. They’re not just saying it’s unfair, they’re saying it’s unfair and yet it claims to be fair.

Responses to this usually invoke the ineffability of God - “God’s ways are not out ways” or “We cannot know the mind of God”. The trouble with those answers is if you go down that route then all bets are off. You might as well give up trying to understand anything about what God thinks or wants from us. Your guess would be as good as mine.

Neither of these contemporary examples are the first to use this line of reasoning. In Mere Christianity, C.S.Lewis says:

Here is another thing that used to puzzle me. Is it not frightfully unfair that this new life should be confined to people who have heard of Christ and been able to believe in Him? But the truth is God has not told us what His arrangements about the other people are. We do know that no man can be saved except through Christ; we do not know that only those who know Him can be saved through Him. But in the meantime, if you are worried about the people outside, the most unreasonable thing you can do is to remain outside yourself.

There are several problems with this. I’m going to gloss over the “We knows” which assume the Bible’s accuracy. For the sake of brevity I’ll even ignore the Bible verses which do explain what the arrangements for the ominously-named “other people” are. In my opinion, the important issue here is this: A being claimed to dispense perfect justice appears to be monstrously unjust. It’s not justice to require that people chose the one true religion out of the many that exist and have existed, some of which many people will never hear about. Worse still the choice is made on pain of death or eternal damnation (depending on how you interpret the scriptures). Yet this being is supposed to be loving, just and omniscient. It casts doubt on the whole idea.

By saying it is unreasonable for us to worry about the people outside, Lewis seems to be trying to appeal to our selfish side. You don’t want to be on the outside, do you? It’s dark out there and well, we just don’t know what happens to people who get left out there. Stop fussing and come inside.

If this used to puzzle Lewis did he resolve it merely by ceasing to think about it? This doesn’t strike me as very intellectually honest. Simply suggesting that people should stop worrying about this issue is not addressing the argument.

Last Sunday I went to a friend’s Evangelical church. I know what you’re saying, “Eshu, what were you thinking?”. No, I didn’t go just so I’d have something to write about. I’m genuinely interested, although more in the people and why they believe what they do than the beliefs themselves. Perhaps weirdly, I don’t think I would’ve gone had I not spent the last year or two reading atheist blogs and articles; I would’ve felt unprepared. I probably would’ve just ended up disagreeing but not really being able to say why. Which would’ve been frustrating.

I was trying to step outside my comfort zone and I certainly felt pretty uncomfortable. Not that anyone made me feel that way. I get the impression most of them knew I was new there and not a Christian. However, everyone was friendly and welcoming, as I guess people tend to be when they’re trying to build a church community. It’s just that two hours of listening to people sing and pray and hold their hands in the air gets a bit tedious. So I stood there uncomfortably and observed.

It was mostly progressive, modern style religion. Forgiveness, love, healing - all that nice-sounding stuff. Some people came up to the front to be prayed for. Periodically members of the band were passed the microphone to guess what ailments others in the church might be quietly suffering from before the audience was told, “If that’s you, please come forward and be healed”.  The guesses ranged from “A hollow feeling inside your chest” to “Stomach pain”. People came forward, but it wasn’t clear if the guesses were right or how much they were helped.

Feeling a little awkward after the service I offered to help tidy up and this gave me an opportunity to chat with people individually. They were all appreciative of my helping even though I’d never been there before. Apparently some church regulars had managed to shirk the clearing up rota for several years!

Notably, one woman whom I started helping asked if I’d enjoyed it and seemed concerned that I might have been bored or put off.

“I wouldn’t want you to leave here hating Christians or hating God!”

I replied, “No, everyone’s been very friendly and I could hardly hate something I don’t believe in - you don’t hate Zeus do you?”

(Laughing) “No, I suppose not!”

I continued to chat with her as I helped carry various bits of furniture back to the church’s garage. She was in her late thirties, friendly and apparently unconcerned with the details of her religion. She certainly didn’t come across as bigoted nor even suspicious and resentful, not that I expected her to be. I guess maybe I am lucky in finding the nicer Christians.

However, I was shocked that her opening greeting contained such a egregious misrepresentation of atheists - that we hate God and/or Christians. I doubt this was an opinion she came to through her own experience, so I guess it was suggested by others in the church group.

It seemed that she was genuinely surprised I was a thoughtful, decent non-believer who actually knew a few things about the Bible. I was a curiosity. Maybe I’m getting carried away with my optimistic speculation, but I thought that realisation - that I wasn’t actually evil - put some doubts or questions in her mind. Questions like, “Why is this guy nothing like the atheists I’ve heard about?”.

I suspect in the majority of cases, believers are more likely to have their minds changed by meeting decent honest atheists than the best of highbrow arguments. This seems to be supported by Kieran Bennett’s post on de-conversion based on a huge quantity of Christian de-conversion stories. In the list of reasons why Christians deconvert tied for first place was:

The realisation that religious dogma contradicted observable reality was the second most an equally common reason for de-conversion cited within the sample (also at 14.89%).

The illogical stereotype of atheists as misanthropic god-haters is so common it might be considered a religious dogma, at least one supported from the pulpit if not by scripture. Confounding this stereotype is important for many reasons. To establish dialogue, stand up for ourselves and especially to call into question the authority of those who spread these lies.