Andrew Sullivan, whose blogging I usually admire and emulate a great deal as he’s really my blogging hero, had an astoundingly nasty post about the fact that atheists dared to meet up together to listen to Daniel Dennett mock the emptiness of apophatic theological gobbledygook last weekend.
They’re really charming, aren’t they? It is as if everything arrogant about the academy and everything sneering about cable news culture is combined into one big snarky smugfest. Maybe these atheists will indeed help push back the fundamentalist right. Maybe they will remind people that between these atheist bigots and these fundamentalist bigots, the appeal of the Christianity of the Gospels shines like the sun.
To his credit he published some really good e-mails he got in return. Please go read them. Here’s one expressing what it’s like to be one of the few minorities it’s politically correct to vilify (always without any factual basis) and who are denounced as smug merely for speaking out about their views and for having the temerity to self-identify and group together around their minority viewpoint:
I’m 55 and have been an atheist for as long as I can remember. Throughout my life I’ve had to listen to smug preachers railing against the evil of atheism, gleefully describing the torment we’d endure after we died.
I was very active at one time in state politics as an employee of the state Democratic Party. I got interested in running for office, but was told unless I was willing to join a church, preferably a Baptist church, I could forget about it. I listened to the U.S. president publicly state that “atheists should not be considered as citizens, nor should they be considered patriots.” On those few occasions where I let people know about my lack of belief, reactions ranged from supercilious pity (“You poor, pitiful lost soul…I will pray for you that you may see the light.”) to outright hostility.
I was a scoutmaster for 10 years, well liked and appreciated by the kids and their parents. But, the entire time I knew that if a parent ever found out that I was an atheist; I would have been immediately removed. With all that, and more, do you really wonder why I have a general disdain for religion and all the wonderful things it does for our society? Throughout my life, religious belief has been nothing but a sword hanging over my head, ready to fall the moment my lack thereof was discovered. Do you really wonder why I would like to see that sword broken and cast into the forge?
Sullivan also notes he apologized already.
Look, I’m not going to say that I don’t understand getting testy over being philosophically challenged all day but the ad hominems against atheists that we’re allegedly smug and vitriolic is practically the only coherent argument leveled against us. And it is essentially a diversion and usually false. It’s not just when Sullivan or other theists lose their temper that they level this emotional charge against us, it’s one of the first lines of defense they have because their arguments fall apart in about 10 seconds flat. They are defending superstition, they are defending a genocidal Old Testament as the revealed word of a benevolent deity, they are defending ridiculous fantastical stories like that a man was both human and God, they are defending the right to believe not only without sufficient evidence but contrary to evidence, they are defending the right to rationalize, they are defending baseless traditionalism, they are defending institutions which bear no marks of anything but normal humanity while claiming that they are divinely guided—on and on and on, they are defending the rationally indefensible and often the morally indefensible. And the fact that we don’t pull punches in pointing out actual absurdities, logical and empirical absurdities and calling them what they are—ridiculous and untenable options for belief, does not make us mean, does not make us smug, and it does not make us vitriolic. It makes us rationally consistent and intolerant not of persons but of absurdities. And that’s what reason requires of us, whether or not you like it.