Z from It’s The Thought That Counts gets discouraged:
I’ve been having these long, philosophical conversations with some of my Christian friends about exactly what their religion means to them (I was happy to find that these friends were open to such discussions!)
There’s no way that people’s moral beliefs are actually formed by Christianity’s teachings, because they’re able to cast out any unsavory (to them) messages and follow only the ones they like, but they can’t see this in themselves. They construct elaborate webs of language that prevent them from noticing any contradictions in their ideas or behavior. This same web deflects any questions I might ask, turning the conversation into a meandering stream of non-answers and platitudes.
If everybody else gets to express their side, I want to express mine. At the same time, the dialogue seems futile. Nobody’s going to change their mind, and it doesn’t even feel like we’re speaking the same language. It just makes me exhausted and depressed, and obviously that’s no good either.
And Hemant Mehta seems to agree with her and suggests just finding political common causes instead:
He has a point. Neither side is going to compromise on beliefs.
What has kept me relatively sane in the matter is that I try to focus the conversation on things we can agree on.
I talk about the need for separation of church and state, the importance of teaching kids to question their beliefs and seek out their own answers (Christians, of course, think this will lead them toward faith), the lack of politicians who represent our constituency, why we need to keep forced religion out of public schools, the myriad cases of discrimination against atheists, etc.
Maybe I’m just a pie-eyed idealist here but I cannot stand all the frequent declarations I hear that debating religion is futile. The first reason this bugs me is that it shows a lack of confidence in human reason and reasonableness. While I am keenly aware of how prone we are as humans to prejudicial, closed-minded, irrationalistic, emotionalistic thinking and how regularly subject we are to a long list of cognitive errors and forms of fallacious thinking, I also know that people do actually think about things on a daily basis and they do change their minds fairly regularly too.
It is more prejudicial for us to write off anyone as so obtuse and impervious to reason that there is no use in talking to them about a given topic. In fact, not only is it prejudicial, it is dangerous, because it risks being a self-fulfilling prophecy that not only leaves someone in error but leaves them to worsen in their errors. Even the people whose minds you don’t “change” by any measure that you can observe are still affected by what you say. They are exposed to an influence that at the very least encourages them not to go further in the opposite direction even if it does not pull them one inch in your direction. Sometimes helping people stay exactly where they are is still an effect. And by introducing or reinforcing the arguments for your side, you create a counter-balance in their mind to the further extremes of their own side and those considerations will operate in the quiet of their mind long after you put them there and just may be important some day that no one will ever realize.
And Hemant is right that there is room for finding common ground, but there’s room for more than just common political ground too. Some of my closest friends over my atheist years have been religious people with whom large areas of fruitful philosophical discussion has been possible about issues which skirt those on which we have less tractable positions. Those discussions have implications for the issues that are less resolvable even if we do not directly address them.
And on the harder core positions, you can often successfully pull people a couple more inches towards your side than that and that’s terrific and worth appreciating. And it will frequently happen without your being aware of it. I am of the mind that most of us change our minds not during debates but only later on when we’ve had time to chew on what was said, to let it affect our later discussions with other people, and to consider it outside the context of a debate where we’re engaged in resisting it in a partisan way. And often we are influenced without acknowledging or knowing it at all. Our temperament is simply softened or our respect for the opposition is naturally increased or some piece of our confidence in our position is subtly undermined in a way that only much later will become tangibly important. One crack in a foundation is usually imperceptible to outsiders but if the cracks accumulate over time, the foundation will break.
I for one stopped trying to “convert” people when I left my evangelicalism behind 10 years ago now. When I stopped being religious, I stopped considering debate futile if at the end of it the other person did not convert to my religion. I don’t need the people I debate with to become atheists or to adopt any of my other positions in order to be satisfied with a philosophical argument. Of course, in the midst of debate, I argue as vigorously and persuasively as I can in order ideally to have this effect or to be shown in what ways I am wrong. I always use the strongest arguments I have (or those most fit for my particular interlocutor or our topic) and I hope either to have the strongest influence I can or to discover the weaknesses in those arguments so that they will be stronger next time. But when the argument is over, I leave it behind. It’s over. It’s not a win or a loss based on any particular measure besides, “did I pursue the truth and agreement as best as I could through that exchange?” That’s all that matters in arguments.
The reason I say that is that, unlike an evangelical out to win souls, I do not have anywhere near the hubris to believe that I am personally in the business of fixing or saving people’s souls. I am not deluded enough to think that in the space of a conversation, or even in most series of conversations, that people can correct their entire conceptions of the world. I might even be suspicious of any one who was that quickly swayed and question myself to make sure I did not use any unnecessarily manipulative tactics!
People’s intellectual, emotional, spiritual, social, psychological journeys take their entire lifetimes and never complete until they arbitrarily stop at death. In the daily grind of daily debates, all that matters to me from a social standpoint is that those with whom I debate and I are advancing each other’s thinking. All that matters to me is that they have to confront my reasons and I have to confront theirs. All I can contribute is ideas and arguments for them. It is up to them to be affected however they are going to be affected. That’s none of my business, honestly. That’s personal to them.
And the philosophical questions I pursue relentlessly matter. I do not mind my reputation among my friends and peers for indefatigably pursuing philosophical questions even at our parties. And so far I know of not one single Finckean I’ve created through all my efforts. I’ve not even been responsible for the creation of a single atheist I know of. But I’m quite sure that I’ve wasted almost nobody’s time and no one’s ever wasted mine through these debates. They each have the possibility of impact far beyond what anyone can guess over time. You never know what will stick with someone or how it will affect their beliefs, attitudes, and actions and how these will affect others. You’ll never know how to measure all the moderations of positions and all the preventions of extremism you may accomplish.
Over time entire cultures transform their thinking in no small part through these daily exchanges. We cannot underestimate the importance of each single positive influence in the process. Because they add up. Just as it is foolish to assume that your one vote in an election with 100 million votes is irrelevant, it is foolish to think that your voice out of billions means nothing. Votes and voices add up. So use yours.