| Thank God (and Richard Dawkins) I'm no longer an 'angry atheist' It's all too easy for atheists to imply that people who believe in God are stupid. That's a shame, because fanatical atheism can be as ugly as religious fanaticismThe front page of guardian.co.uk recently featured a picture of Richard Dawkins with the headline "The Dick Delusion". It saddened me that anyone at the Guardian would think it was appropriate to ridicule Dawkins in this manner and I was further disappointed by the accompanying article by Jonathan Jones which was a weakly argued personal attack on Dawkins, using poorly researched material to deliver the pathetic notion that Dawkins "just wants to be the cleverest kid in the class". The irony of the piece was that it smacked of having been written by someone desperate to prove his own cleverness.As much as I hated Jones' article, I can understand what might have prompted it. I have in the past criticised Dawkins' approach myself and I'd like to think I'm not part of the "angry atheist" brigade. It can be all too easy to fall into the trap of being perceived as a "dick" when challenging people's beliefs. Many atheists and "skeptics" seem to have a habit of implying, if not directly stating, that people who believe in god/homeopathy/psychics are stupid. They seem to think that tackling such beliefs is a question of dispelling ignorance, of educating people in the "right" way of thinking.Sadly, it's not that simple. Such atheists and skeptics would do well to remember that we are all capable of holding irrational beliefs and that there are myriad social, economic, cultural and educational factors that determine what and how people think. Heck, I'll go out on a limb and suggest there might even be genetic factors involved in determining the extent to which people may or may not be susceptible to holding religious beliefs.Atheists and skeptics can feel incredibly frustrated by the beliefs of others and feel that they have to "correct" them, and in doing so they can come across as condescending, patronising and aggressive. It's not always accidental. Several prominent atheists and skeptics have been accused of deliberately behaving like "dicks"; let's face it, calling believers "deluded", as Dawkins famously does, is not exactly diplomatic. The backlash against this kind of behaviour is not just coming from believers but also from within the atheist and skeptic communities there are various corners of the internet where atheists and skeptics are engaged in heated discussions about whether or not to be a "dick". I have to confess to finding it somewhat amusing that much of this debate seems to have descended into the kind of argument you might hear in a school playground: "You're a dick", "No, you're a dick for calling me a dick".On a serious note, I have been guilty of being a "dick atheist" myself, albeit unwittingly. I'm hoping this is a thing of the past, and for this I owe thanks to a good friend of mine who confronted me over my attitude by saying "you think I'm stupid because I believe in God". She was incredibly upset at some of the things I had been saying as part of what I thought was just casual banter over a cup of tea. She pointed out that, from her perspective, the views I had been expressing about religion were offensive to people like her. Of course, I don't think this friend of mine is remotely stupid but I had to concede that the things I had been saying might have suggested otherwise.Don't get me wrong, I'm more than happy to offend people when the circumstances demand it, but I've got no desire to go around upsetting people I like for no good reason. Seeing my friend upset really made me stop and think about how I was coming across to other religious friends and I have since made much more of a conscious effort to consider where other people might be coming from before spouting off about my atheism. Fanatical atheism can be as ugly as religious fanaticism.I'm not suggesting that atheists don't talk about religion or that they don't continue to argue with believers. I think there are all sorts of things that would be better if religion were not such a powerful force in so many people's lives. I'm often asked "why do you care what other people believe?" My answer is that I care because I care about the things that make our world tick. I care because our beliefs are defining qualities that play a huge part in our relationships with other people and the world at large. I care because what people believe determines how people act.So I'll carry on talking about my beliefs and challenging people about theirs and I'll look forward to the continued work of Dawkins and others like him. However, I would encourage "campaigning" atheists and skeptics to think about the tone they use to deliver their messages. It should be obvious that how we say things is often as important, if not more so, than what we say.Richard DawkinsReligionAtheismCharles DarwinPeople in scienceAlom Shahaguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds guardian.co.uk |
Observatory: Spreading Their Wings to Longest on Record An intact skeleton of a bird, which lived 5 million to 10 million years ago, has a wingspan of at least 17 feet, the widest ever found, researchers report. feeds.nytimes.com |
Solar panels come to White House President Barack Obama is to install solar panels on the White House roof, a move lauded by climate activists as symbolic of the US's energy future. bbc.co.uk |
George Osborne's talk of percentages and billions will wash over most of us We've become shockingly innumerate as reaction to the spending review 2010 will proveStop glaring at the other commuters. Put down that sandwich. Concentrate. We're about to try an experiment that will upend the conventional wisdom about tomorrow's spending review, and cheer up David Cameron while worrying Ed Miliband. Ready?Good, because I want you to read the following statement: "In a double-blind taste test, consumers tasted two cola drinks with a bite of cracker or sip of water before each tasting. Among these consumers, 35% believed that Diet Pepsi tasted most like real cola." Go over that again if need be, because in a while you'll be quizzed on it.But first, take a breather. Go back to giving your fellow commuters the evil eye, if you like. Or simply take the next paragraph a tad more slowly than usual.The claim you've just read was dreamed up by the US-based psychologist Namika Sagara, as part of an exercise to find out how well people understand numbers. First, volunteers read observations like the one above. Then, after a short break, they answered some basic questions to test their comprehension.And now it's your turn. Here's what Sagara asked about that earlier statement: "Most people in a double-blind taste test believe that Diet Pepsi tastes most like real cola true or false?" What do you reckon?In all probability, you'll have twigged the answer even faster than you could say "don't insult my intelligence": 35% isn't "most people" so it's a lie. Utter tripe. More made up than Gene Simmons. But the original respondents presented with that and other obviously-bogus claims judged them to be true. Not just once or twice, but 65% of the time.Faced with such a striking result, Sagara kept rinsing and repeating her study to see if it was a one-off. She presented the information in different ways. She shortened the time between the statements and the questions. She looked at whether more numerate participants did better than others. Answer: yes, but since her respondents were all university students even the less mathematical were pretty bright sparks.So why did Sagara's undergraduates keep on calling black white and white black? The academic concluded that a significant proportion of even smart people neither understand nor remember numbers. Instead, they are guided by repetition and familiarity (Pepsi being a cornerstone of America's caffeine-industrial complex). And no matter how stark the numbers, how they are presented is far more important.Have another look at the Pepsi statement: it's hardly a sales pitch, but there are no negative words.Let's move downmarket from Madison Avenue advertising to Westminster spin. Tomorrow afternoon, George Osborne will stand up in the Commons and announce the most severe spending cuts since the 1920s. The media thesaurus to describe the occasion has already been well thumbed: historic, milestone, landmark. Hackneyed they may be, but in policy terms such words sound about right these cuts will have a massive impact on the economy and our public services. But here's the question: will the chancellor's numbers have as dramatic an effect on how voters see him and his colleagues?After all the build-up to cuts week, it seems churlish not to say yes.Certainly, Labour frontbenchers say that once the scale of the budgetary bloodletting is made explicit, they will have their best chance yet to win back disgruntled supporters. This does not seem an unreasonable bet. And yet, thinking about Sagara's work, I wonder if it will be as straightforward.The electorate may be about to be pelted with percentages and bludgeoned with billions; but if college students can't work out that 35% does not a majority make, any war of numbers is likely to leave most voters completely cold.The British have their own evidence that figures do not clarify political arguments so much as muddy them. When the Lib Dems were led by Paddy Ashdown and Charlie Kennedy (oh, happier days), they had a policy of pumping more money into schools by putting a penny on the basic rate of income tax. Polls showed it to be among the best liked of all party pledges. Yet focus groups suggested that part of the reason for its popularity was that quite a few voters thought that all this cash would go into the education system by simply paying an extra penny on their income-tax bills.Ah, but, I can see you saying. Ah, but such statistical illiteracy is confined to only a very few Britons and, um, quite a lot of Americans.Wrong. Last month, pollsters Ipsos Mori asked respondents to convert 20% into a fraction. Over a third of the people they asked either couldn't do so or got it wrong. Of those, 2% thought 20% was a 20th; 6% said they didn't know what a fraction was. And if those figures depress you; imagine how they made this economics journalist feel.For someone who has spent years studying innumeracy, Sagara is more optimistic about how journalists and politicians can overcome it."Make the numbers concrete," she says. "Talk about how the cuts affect local services."Nice try, but it doesn't quite do it for me. As even government ministers acknowledge, one of the crucial things about tomorrow's spending review is precisely that it is big and national that it is likely to lead to a reshaping of all public services and the welfare state. Sticking to the local and particular may pack more punch but it still won't make the cuts add up.PsychologyMathematicsSpending review 2010Tax and spendingGeorge OsborneAditya Chakraborttyguardian.co.uk © Guardian News & Media Limited 2010 | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds guardian.co.uk |
Pouched killers 'a diverse group' A study of marsupial carnivores' skulls from the past 40 million years shows they rose to the challenge of evolution just like their placental cousins. bbc.co.uk |