It appears that Kashgari has had to flee his country after Kashgari mused in a series of tweets about what his interaction with Mohammed would be were he to meet Mohammed “man-to-man.” These tweets emphasizing the human nature of Mohammed were too much for many of the faithful. They responded with tweets of their own—over 30,000— almost all of them harshly critical of Kashgari and many calling for his death.

Fortunately, in much of the West, one can deny the truth of the claims made by various religions without too many repercussions—although that may depend on the setting. But we shouldn’t take this right for granted. There are those who want to muzzle free expression to avoid “offense” against those with religious sensibilities. Indeed, the organization One Law for All is holding a rally in London on February 11 to protest recent efforts to suppress criticism of religion.

But, of course, it’s in the countries outside of Europe and North America, in particular, the Islamic world, where the greatest threats to free expression can be found. The most innocent comments about Mohammed can result in severe punishment, either through official sanctions or mob action.

We need to continue to protest this unacceptable suppression of the fundamental rights of freedom of conscience and freedom of expression. And today I can’t think of a better way to do it then to state clearly and unambiguously that Islam is based on false beliefs. Spread the word: Mohammed was not a divinely inspired prophet and there is no Allah.

Not much has been said in the atheist blogosphere about President Obama’s appearance and remarks at the National Prayer Breakfast on February 2. Probably a couple of reasons for this. The appearance in itself is not really news. Sadly, this is just what our presidents, Democrat or Republican, do. Also, I sense that not a few atheists think Obama should be cut some slack on church-state issues—both because he’s better than any alternative (can you imagine President Gingrich?) and because some suspect that on ceremonial occasions such as the National Prayer Breakfast, he’s just going through the motions. However, having reviewed his remarks, I think they merit some comment.

First, however, let me comment on the sincerity of Obama’s profession of faith. During his remarks, Obama emphasized that he is a Christian and that he prays each morning. Some atheists have told me they’re convinced Obama isn’t really religious. He’s too intelligent. He makes the requisite obeisance to religion because it would be political death otherwise.

One interesting thing about this take on Obama is that it’s very similar to what many in the Religious Right say. They also think Obama is faking it—although not necessarily because they think he’s too intelligent to be religious.

But unless I’m shown convincing proof otherwise, I’m going to take Obama at his word. To begin, it’s just a prejudice to say that one can’t be intelligent and a believer. There are many different factors that can cause someone to be a believer. It is true that higher education is correlated with an increased level of religious skepticism, but not every one who graduates from Harvard Law School or who has a PhD in physics from MIT is an atheist. For many, religious belief is more of an emotional commitment than it is an intellectual one.

Anyway, there are two things I find noteworthy about Obama’s remarks. First is his emphasis on values, and how religious beliefs can motivate some (presumably including himself) to behave ethically. Nothing terribly new here. However, to the extent we need further evidence that one reason people cling to religion is that they (mistakenly) view it as providing a foundation for morality, the president’s remarks provide that confirmation. The supposed connection between religion and morality is, arguably, religion’s last line of defense, especially when religion is seen as they only secure foundation for morality.

Which makes one of President Obama’s remarks especially interesting, Although Obama does note religion’s alleged connection to values, he also suggests it is possible to have a secular basis for ethics. Specifically, he states, “I know the version of that Golden Rule is found in every major religion and every set of beliefs—from Hinduism to Islam to Judaism to the writings of Plato” (emphasis added). I’m not an historian of presidential speeches at prayer breakfasts, but it would not surprise me if this is the first time that a president has stated in such a setting that a secular philosophy can provide a foundation for ethics.

Being somewhat familiar with Plato, I’m not sure he’s the best example of a secular moralist, but leave that point aside. The important thing is that Obama has indicated that one can find a basis for morality outside of religion. Sure, it’s nothing more than a nod toward secular ethics, similar to the brief acknowledgement that he gave nonbelievers in his inaugural address. But it’s something. If atheists are ever going to gain acceptance and cease being second-class citizens, Americans must recognize that people can be ethical without reliance on religious texts or revelations.

Of course I’d prefer that the president not go to prayer breakfasts; I’d also prefer that he didn’t pray; and I’d strongly prefer that the president not seek moral guidance in what, objectively speaking, is an incoherent hodgepodge of taboos from barbaric tribes, self-serving edicts from priestly hierarchies, and a dose of commonsense morality—that is, from religious “ethics.” But if we have a president who’s religious—and that’s the likely reality for some time to come—it’s good to have one who at least realizes that religion has no monopoly on morality, and is willing to acknowledge that fact, even at a prayer breakfast.

I’m not sure I can say this decision is incorrect under the U.S. Constitution. The Court was confronting a novel question, which the Founders presumably did not anticipate given the absence of employment discrimination laws in 1789. (This is another illustration of why the doctrine of “original intent” is pure intellectual rubbish, but don’t get me started.) However, I do think the decision highlights the weird, special status of religious institutions—a status that arguably can’t be justified.

As most everyone knows, there is a bevy of federal, state, and local anti-discrimination laws that prohibit employers from discriminating against employees (or candidates for hire) based on characteristics such as race, sex, age, disability and so forth. These laws apply to nonprofit organizations just as much as they apply to commercial enterprises. The Center for Inquiry cannot violate these laws, nor can Planned Parenthood, Human Rights Watch, and so on.

The Court has now ruled that with respect to some employees, religious institutions can violate these laws with impunity, or to be more precise, these laws do not apply to them insofar as they relate to the hiring or retention of “ministers.” The complete text of the Court’s decision can be found here.

Mind you, this is not a question about whether the Catholic Church can insist that its priests accept the doctrines of the Church, such as celibacy, the immorality of homosexual conduct, and so forth. The Court’s ruling allows the Catholic Church, and any religious institution, to get rid of anyone acting in a “ministerial” capacity for any reason—they’re too old, disabled, Latvian, or whatever. Moreover, under the Court’s ruling, a “minister” who has been sexually harassed by church leaders and is fired for complaining has no remedy.

In its ruling, the Court stated that the Founders did not want government interference in the internal affairs of churches, and that this implies that the government can place no restrictions on who a church chooses as one of it leaders.

It’s undoubtedly true that the Founders did not want government control over churches. I also think this is wise policy. However, it’s a separate question whether the autonomy of religious institutions means that their employment decisions relating to “ministers” can’t be questioned for any reason.

By the way, if you’re wondering why I’ve been putting “minister” in scare quotes it’s because there’s no clear definition of “minister” under constitutional law and the Court did not provide one. It declined to set forth a “rigid formula.” In the case before it, the plaintiff was a teacher at a parochial school who spent most of her time on secular duties, but she was a teacher who had been “called”—essentially someone given special recognition by the Lutheran congregation operating the school.

But let’s now spend a moment reflecting on the underlying questions: Should religious institutions be entitled to special privileges under the law? To what extent? Don’t get me wrong. I’m not questioning the importance of freedom of conscience and, as already indicated, I certainly don’t want the government running churches. However, it seems to me that we can respect freedom of conscience and not have the U.S. Attorney’s office operating Sunday school while still requiring that religious institutions obey generally applicable employment discrimination laws.

To claim otherwise is give special privileges to institutions that promote belief in spirits—immaterial, invisible beings who have supernatural powers. Or to put it more bluntly, we are rewarding institutions that promote a certain type of nonsense.

Granted, nonsense has its rights. We cannot avoid some nonsense if we’re going to have free expression, and there probably are many nonprofits that promote false beliefs—but only religious institutions get a pass on employment discrimination laws.

Perhaps as a pragmatic matter, we have to give religious institutions a pass. One of the purposes of the religion clauses of the First Amendment was to prevent the violence and civil unrest that had plagued Europe for centuries as a result of religious conflict. It’s possible that any attempt to enforce discrimination laws in the context of religious institutions would be met with such resistance that the disadvantage of doing so would outweigh the benefits. If so, that’s a sad comment on the human condition. An employee can sue a nonprofit that provides medical care or emergency relief, but a “ministerial” employee has no recourse against a nonprofit whose purpose is to promote belief in super-powerful spirits.

The bloggers on Free Thinking, as has been stated on numerous occasions, and as readers of our blog are expressly advised, represent their own personal opinion. They do not speak for CFI. (Even this blog post is not technically official policy, as it has not yet been reviewed by the full Management Committee, but it would be appropriate to describe it as expressing my view in my official capacity as president & CEO.) We intentionally adopted this policy not only because it’s practical (you can’t do a timely blog post if it has to pass through management review), but because we wanted our bloggers to feel free to advance novel and speculative ideas, arguments, and theories without worrying about whether they’d get in “trouble” with management.

We also fully expected that some of the blog posts might make claims that some in our audience would dispute. Great! Isn’t that how the advance of knowledge through free expression is supposed to work? Jane makes claim 1A in her blog post; Joan politely points out in her comments that Jane has overlooked factors x, y, and z; and Jane then thanks Joan for pointing this out, revising her claim to 1B.

This is an idealized version, of course. In real life, it’s more like this: Jane makes claim 1A; Joan calls Jane a fucking idiot; Jane calls Joan a moron and digs in her heels; Tom, over at another blog, yells that both Jane and Joan are stupid; Jane and Joan momentarily join forces to call Tom a sexist pig; Frank says Jane has no business blogging and should be fired; Larry comes up with some obscure dictionary reference the relevance of which no one can understand; and someone using the pseudonym Weeenie10 with a cute Batman icon limits himself to typing in the word “fart,” and on it goes, for about 800 comments spread over 3 or 4 blogs.

Isn’t the Internet wonderful?

Actually, it is. Near instantaneous transmission eliminates certain filters, so, yes, there’s a lot of junk that gets posted, including pointless insults, but there are serious commenters, and their comments can clear up some mistakes and steer a discussion in the right direction. Whether the exchange of ideas works efficiently, as in the ideal model, or in fits and starts, as in the real world, it often works.

Obviously, there are limits to what we’d put up on our blog, not because we want any limits on free expression, but because we are a donor supported organization and we have an obligation to use that donor money prudently. So we’re not going to invite Joel Osteen, Deepak Chopra, Warren Jeffs and so forth to blog. These individuals can take advantage of the outlets available to them. Our bloggers are all, broadly speaking, working from a nonreligious or skeptical perspective.

One or more of our current bloggers could also conceivably write a string of posts clearly contrary to CFI’s mission and/or its official position on important policy issues. A blogger could, for example, argue that the Establishment Clause should not be enforced, that alternative medicine should be exempt from scrutiny, that women should not have the same rights as men, that we should prohibit gays from serving in the military, and so forth. Depending on the frequency of such posts, the person might be removed from blogging or other action might be taken. Again, this would not be because we’re opposed to free expression, but because we don’t see the need to fund a continual stream of messages that are contrary to our mission. That’s never happened and I think it’s unlikely to happen because someone who found themselves disagreeing with several of our key public policy positions presumably would seek employment elsewhere.

This brings me to Ben’s recent post (or posts, as he had more than one, and the one that actually appeared on Free Thinking seems the least controversial). Some commenters have recommended that Ben be fired or removed as a blogger. Similar suggestions have been made, by the way, about Melody Hensley, who commented on Ben’s blog posts, either on Free Thinking or elsewhere.

First, by way of background, these recommendations are not unprecedented. Every few months I receive recommendations about firing employees, terminating individuals’ contracts, or ceasing all contact with certain authors or speakers. For example, I’ve previously been told (in public fora) that I should fire John Shook, Michael DeDora, and Melody, that I should remove Chris Mooney as POI host, that I should never invite PZ Myers to a conference again, that I should not allow Paul Kurtz to post on our blog (back when he was still with CFI) and that CFI should forever cut any and all ties with Richard Dawkins and Rebecca Watson (this last suggestion usually being made by different people). I have declined to follow all such recommendations.  I have declined all such recommendations because the reasons offered were either not worthy of consideration or essentially asked me to cut these people off simply because they were perceived to be on the wrong side of an issue.

The fact that a person may be on the “wrong” side of a particular issue is not a sufficient basis, absent exceptional circumstances, for CFI to stop working with that person—especially when it’s not always immediately apparent what the “wrong” side is. We’re supposed to be free thinkers, not dogmatists.

Ben’s posts may exhibit some mistakes in reasoning and may have used some research that was unreliable. I think I can make these statements with confidence because Ben has acknowledged these mistakes himself, in part because some commenters pointed out some research he may have overlooked. (See, free expression does work—sort of.)

Based on this, I don’t see any reason to take any action.

Some commenters suggested there should have been an official CFI rebuttal. Why? An official rebuttal suggests that Ben was speaking on behalf of CFI and we needed to clarify that he was not, but as indicated, he was speaking for himself. Second, there were already rebuttals aplenty of Ben. PZ Myers, Rebecca Watson, and Julia Lavarnway (a CFI employee) had their own blog posts criticizing Ben and commenters on Ben’s posts did not seem to be at a loss for words.

And what is it CFI was supposed to rebut? Ben’s speculations about the hues of dolls’ faces? Presumably not. What appeared to bother some commenters was Ben’s alleged sexism.

OK. CFI denounces sexism. We always have and presumably always will. Stereotyping based on gender is wrong and policies and practices that promote such stereotyping should be condemned. Furthermore, attitudes that exhibit sexism are unacceptable, and we should work to eliminate such attitudes, including, to the extent they exist, such attitudes within secular/skeptical organizations.

The problem is I doubt that Ben would disagree with anything in the above paragraph, nor did I see anything in his posts to suggest he would. Therefore, I’m not sure it counts as a “rebuttal.”

At the end of the day, it seems to me we had a controversial post (or posts) in which a blogger ventured some opinions, invited comments on those opinions, received comments that suggested he had erred in some ways, and then modified some of his opinions. This is not something we should decry. To the contrary, we should support a robust exchange of opinions.

Because of this recent controversy, CFIs Management Committee will discuss the future of Free Thinking this coming week. I have made plain my views, but we do have collective leadership at CFI, so it’s not inconceivable that the policies governing Free Thinking would change.  I hope not, because I think any radical change would undercut what CFI stands for. There are already an ample number of institutions that provide the comfort of orthodoxy for those want that sort of thing. They’re called churches.

Many of you have probably heard about the resignation of Catholic Bishop Gabino Zavala.  You may have heard of it without even becoming aware of it, because it is the type of news that no longer attracts special attention.  Another day, another sex scandal for the Catholic Church.  Nowadays, weather reports are likely to be more memorable.

But there was something different this time.  Something different in how the spokesman for the Church tried to diminish the significance of Zavala’s actions.  The Church spokesman said that the relationship was “between consenting adults and that no church funds were used” in connection with the relationship.  (So Zavala did not embezzle from Peter’s Pence to fund the affair.) 

From a secular perspective, the statement that the relationship was “between consenting adults” is relevant information.  Indeed, from a secular humanist perspective, the fact that sexual conduct is between consenting adults is arguably the most important factor in determining whether the conduct has any moral implications. Presumptively, sex between consenting adults is no one else’s business.  (There are exceptions, but there is no need to specify them here.) 

But why is this relevant to the Catholic Church? From the Church’s perspective, fornication remains immoral, and it becomes a grievous moral wrong when it’s indulged in by a priest who has taken a vow of celibacy. Consent doesn’t alleviate the sinful nature of the conduct.

In a strange way, I’m encouraged by the spin used by the Church’s spokesman. It suggests that perhaps—just perhaps—the Church is not completely out of touch with modern times and secular moral reasoning.

On the other hand, maybe the Church is going easy on Zavala because he fathered two children. I can picture the Church officials now: “Thank God—Zavala didn’t use contraception.” That would have been unforgiveable.

Alvin Plantinga’s latest book, Where the Conflict Really Lies: Science, Religion and Naturalism, has received a fair amount of attention. Plantinga has even been written up in the New York Times. Having read most of his book, I will acknowledge that it confirms he is a clever polemicist. He can present a thoroughly fallacious argument with confidence, dressing it up so it appears superficially impressive.  God may not have a more skilled advocate. 

Plantinga demonstrates his formidable skills in part through the tactics he deploys in making his arguments.  Standard practice among lawyers (or most anyone trying to prevail in an argument) is to emphasize the strengths of one’s position, while spending no more time than necessary on an opponent’s points.  Of course, sometimes one has no strengths, but only weaknesses.  In that case, one hammers away at the weaknesses of one’s opponent.  And what if the opponent’s position has few, if any, flaws?  Well, invent them.  Even better: try to argue that an opponent’s perceived strength is actually a hidden, fatal flaw.  Do DNA and other physical evidence  clearly implicate your client?  Then try this argument: “Members of the jury, consider that a racist cop had the opportunity to plant the evidence.”  (Don’t worry about actually showing that the cop did plant the evidence.) 

O. J. Simpson may have had an intellectually feeble defense, but it was significantly more substantial than the pleas one can offer on behalf of God’s existence.  But now God has his dream team in the form of Plantinga.  Are science in general and evolution in particular incompatible with theism?  Obviously, it won’t do to mumble an irresolute response on that point, so try to prevail through boldness: “Members of the jury, not only are science and evolution completely compatible with theism, but it is actually naturalism that is incompatible with science.” Yes, that is the essence of Plantinga’s audacious claim. It’s naturalism, not religion, that is in conflict with science.

As those who follow Plantinga’s work are aware, he has been rehearsing this argument for the last several years, but Where the Conflict Really Lies has the hallmarks of his closing argument; he’s put everything into it. In any event, what is Plantinga’s justification for his bold bluster? First, he asks us to consider that there’s nothing in evolutionary theory, taken in and of itself, that proves evolution could not have been guided by an intelligent being. (“There’s nothing in the DNA evidence implicating Simpson that proves it was not planted.”) Right, and there’s nothing in atomic theory, taken in and of itself, that proves there are no immaterial, undetectable beings dancing on quarks. Don’t worry about the fact that God plays no useful explanatory role in evolutionary theory or that the dancing spirits play no useful explanatory role in atomic theory: as a matter of logical possibility, these claims could be true.

But isn’t assigning God—an omniscient, omnipotent, omnibenevolent being—a role in guiding evolution inconsistent with the hundreds of millions of years of pointless suffering endured by animals, not to mention the tremendous wastage of species doomed to extinction? Alvin has an answer: blame the Devil. No seriously. Lest you think I’m making this up, let me quote Plantinga on this point: “Satan and his minions … may have been permitted a role in the evolution of life on earth, steering it in the direction of predation, waste and pain (emphasis added).” In other words, if  your argument in favor of one imaginary being provokes some skepticism, just double down and suggest there may be a few more.

But let’s turn to Plantinga’s central and most ambitious claim, namely that naturalism, with its position that evolution is unguided by an intelligent being, is self-defeating. Plantinga argues that evolution rewards adaptive behavior. It doesn’t reward truthful claims. Accordingly, the cognitive faculties that generate our beliefs are not reliable insofar as we count on them to provide a truthful picture of the world. The naturalist claims evolution is true, but she can’t reliably make that claim because unguided evolution likely would have produced beliefs that help ensure survival but are nonetheless false. Acceptance of evolution might be one such false belief.

Plantinga also asserts that the theist can reliably make the claim that evolution is true, because if God guided evolution, God created humans in his “image,” with the ability to know and understand the world around them. So theism is compatible with acceptance of evolution—a cornerstone of science—while naturalism is not.

OK, let’s stop right there for a second. First, what is Plantinga’s warrant for saying God created humans in his “image” with the ability to know things—other than blind faith? (Of course, Plantinga thinks “faith” is an appropriate means of acquiring knowledge, but let’s not spend time on that bit of nonsense.) Moreover, if God allows “Satan and his minions” to play a role in evolution, “steering it in the direction of predation, waste and pain,” why couldn’t God also allow Satan to mess with evolution so our brains don’t actually track the truth, or do so only sporadically? I don’t see how the theist is in any better position than the naturalist with respect to the reliability of claims about the world.

The principal problem with Plantinga’s argument, however, is his adherence to a foundationalist approach to knowledge, which most of the rest of the philosophical world has moved beyond. Plantinga maintains there has to be some guarantor of truth on which our assertions can rest. In some ways, Plantinga offers us no more than a warmed-over Descartes. To be able to trust the reports our brain gives us we need some bit of indisputable knowledge combined with a deity who will ensure that our brain reports are (usually) accurate. Despite his protestations that he is a friend of contemporary science, Plantinga’s outlook remains firmly implanted in the seventeenth century.

We don’t need Plantinga’s imaginary foundations. Knowledge doesn’t need a guardian spirit. We can confidently rely on our brain reports because they are justified pragmatically. Right, our brains evolved to ensure survival—and one really good way to survive is to have an accurate understanding of the world, so that one can navigate one’s way through the world without getting injured or killed. Think of the many things one does each morning in reliance on accurate brain reports. One gets out of bed after greeting one’s partner. But is it really your partner? What if you’re kissing another person’s lover? Your clock tells you it’s 7:00 a.m. But what if it’s 9:30 and your risk termination? You put some eggs into the skillet, but what if those are your hands that you’re cooking? You drive to work—or are you going in the wrong direction? Your colleagues greet you, but what if they’re not your colleagues but strangers who are telling you to leave because you have no business in that building?

No need to go through the thousands of items of information our brains successfully impart to us every day, every week, every year. The point is we can rely on our brain reports because they have proven they are effective in tracking the truth about our world.

Admittedly, our brains are natural mechanisms, so they can fail. These failures are sometimes corrected, often with the assistance of others; sometimes they are not corrected. But most of us can live with a measure of uncertainty. Apparently, Plantinga cannot. He wants his guardian spirit to hold his hand and whisper to him, “Yes, you can safely cross the street now. Trust me; there really are no trucks coming.”

Given the material he has to work with, Plantinga has made a worthy effort. Doubtless, because of the emotional attachment many still have to his client, God, many will find Plantinga’s arguments persuasive. “Hey, God might have guided all those mutations through the ages. It’s logically possible.” But more and more people on the jury are not buying it. God has lost much of his credibility, and arguing “might have” or “could have” and invoking Satan and his minions to fill in gaps in the argument just isn’t going to work as well as it did in the past.

CFI recently held a conference on the work of Daniel Dennett and the scientific investigation of religion. It may be the best conference I’ve ever attended. The presentations of the speakers were of uniformly high-quality—and I say that even for the speakers with whom I had some substantive disagreement. Interestingly, one such speaker was Gregory Paul, the independent researcher who has done some excellent work on the sociology of religious belief. Unfortunately, Paul seems to be in the camp of those who tend to inflate the number of atheists in the United States.

Before I go any further, let me emphasize that I respect Greg Paul’s work. He’s a great researcher. That said, on one issue he seems inclined to put a spin on some survey data.

Paul argued that, interpreted correctly, polls indicate that 20 percent of Americans are atheists. Excuse me? What was that number again? 20 percent? If that were an accurate representation of the number of atheists in the United States, we must be the most docile minority in the history of humanity, as politicians and the general public show little hesitation in heaping abuse upon us. Moreover, unlike blacks in the 1940’s and 1950’s, we can vote with no problem, so we could register our displeasure with those politicians who treat us as second-class citizens. But Gingrich and Perry, to name just two examples, don’t seem to be losing any sleep over a possible backlash.

Paul arrives at that number by first defining “atheist” broadly to include anyone who doesn’t believe in God. Some agnostics, doubters, or even some Buddhists, might take issue with that broad definition, but leave that point aside. His biggest move is to argue that belief in a universal spirit or higher power does not disqualify someone from being an atheist.  (I am basing this post on my notes from his talk, but a check of his website confirms this is his view.) Sorry, but I don’t buy that. I don’t think you can call yourself an atheist if you accept transcendent spirits, whether you call the transcendent spirit God, the Demiurge, or the Unmoved Mover. (Note: the implication of Paul’s position is that atheists have been mistaken in complaining about Alcoholics Anonymous’s insistence on belief in a Higher Power—so don’t argue with the judge if you’re sent to AA for a state-mandated 12-step program.)

This is not a merely semantic objection. Admittedly, some who say they believe in a universal spirit may be tepid deists, functionally indistinguishable from atheists. However, many people who are “spiritual,” turn to the spirit world for guidance. We’re not moving any closer to a secular society if our morals and our public policy are being influenced by spiritual intuition instead of mandates from traditional deities.

Of course, once Paul counts those who believe in a universal spirit as atheists, it’s not difficult to arrive at the conclusion that atheists make up close to 20 percent of the population. Without a hint of irony, Paul chastises the Gallup organization for misinterpreting their data when they report that more than 9 in 10 Americans believe in God. Paul states, correctly, that although 92 percent of Americans answer affirmatively when asked “Do you believe in God?,” when given a choice between belief in God and belief in a universal spirit, only 80 percent pick God, while 12 percent go for the universal spirit. Hence the basis for saying 20 percent of Americans are atheists.

Since the traditional God of theology is supposed to be omnipresent, one could ask precisely what the difference is between God and a universal spirit, other than the sensibilities of the person answering a question about their religious beliefs. Presumably, some in the universal spirit crowd would claim that they do not believe in an anthropomorphic, personal God. Their belief is more sophisticated. OK, but a sophisticated spirit is still a spirit and there’s no room for spirits in atheism.

For what it’s worth, I find the 2008 American Religious Identification Survey and the Pew Forum Religious Landscape survey of the same year the most accurate and precise surveys for measuring disbelief in God. Both concluded that 10-12 percent of Americans do not believe in God, although many of those are unsure whether there is a God, so they might not qualify as “atheists” as some define that term. No matter, even including them doesn’t get us anywhere near the 20 percent trumpeted by Paul.

Does any of this matter? I think it does. As atheists we pride ourselves on being empiricists and hard-headed realists. We criticize theists who can’t intellectually justify their beliefs but nonetheless cling to God for comfort. What’s the difference between clinging to God (or a universal spirit) for comfort as opposed to finding comfort in numbers? I don’t need validation from the masses.

Of course I want the number of nonbelievers to increase—for very practical reasons. A greater percentage of nonbelievers should result in greater acceptance of nonbelievers and reduce the influence of religion on public policy. And it is undisputed that our numbers are increasing. That is a fact.

But we should not exaggerate our numbers. We don’t need pep rallies any more than we need hymnals.

The U.S. House of Representatives yesterday passed overwhelmingly a resolution “reaffirming” the phrase “In God We Trust” as our national motto.  The vote was 396 to 9. The need for reaffirming of this motto was not clearly stated in the resolution, but the real motivation for this resolution is both too obvious and too unseemly to warrant acknowledgment: most politicians in this God-intoxicated country want to milk God for all the votes they can get. And, from a political standpoint, who can blame them? It’s proven to be a very successful tactic.

The “whereas” clauses of the resolution—which presumably set forth the rationale for the resolution—consist principally of a few quotes from various historical figures that show that other politicians have invoked God and cites to other historical God references, e.g., in the Declaration of Independence. OK, we knew all this already. What’s that have to do with the need to “reaffirm” the motto?

There is this statement in the resolution: “Whereas if religion and morality are taken out of the marketplace of ideas, the very freedom on which the United States was founded cannot be secured.” There are so many fallacies in this statement that I have lost count, including, of course, the obligatory coupling of religion and morality. But what’s ironic about this assertion is that it’s the theists who want to insulate religion from the “marketplace of ideas.”  We nonbelievers are in favor of a vigorous, critical examination of the various absurdities on which most religious doctrines are grounded. Of course, when we point out these absurdities, we are accused of being angry atheists who want to mock believers. The truth is the religious don’t want religion to compete in “the marketplace of ideas.” They want religion to be immune from criticism and to enjoy an unquestionable monopoly on morality and virtue.

This resolution does succeed in reaffirming one sad truth: it’s still politically prudent to treat atheists as trash. They are people who, because they don’t believe in God, can’t be trusted and who aren’t really Americans. Atheists sometimes wonder what will be the sign that they truly are accepted as equals in this country. That’s an easy question. It will be when despicable resolutions such as this one don’t even come up for a vote.

By the way, here’s a word of thanks to the nine representatives who had the courage to vote against the resolution. You may want to send them a message of appreciation: Ackerman, Amash, Chu, Cleaver, Honda, Johnson (GA), Nadler, Scott (VA), and Stark.

Final thought: if this resolution causes you to feel righteous indignation, do something about it. Come to the Reason Rally in DC on March 24.

Reverend Robert Jeffress notoriously claimed the other day that Mormonism is a cult. From the context of his remarks I don’t think he was using the term “cult” as a term of approbation. So is Mormonism a cult, and is Romney’s Mormon faith relevant to his qualifications to be president?

It seems to me that the term “cult” functions largely as a sociologically based insult. People typically use the term to denigrate and dismiss a religious belief they don’t like if they think the belief is unacceptable to a sufficiently large number of people. Labeling a religious belief a cult is a way of saying, “I and a lot of others think your religious beliefs are too different, too weird. They’re not like ours.” The reaction to Jeffress’s remarks suggests that he may have miscalculated the extent to which Mormonism is now considered a belief outside the mainstream.

But could one defend the proposition that objectively Mormonism is a cult? That it’s just too weird? Admittedly, its doctrines are bizarre and totally indefensible. Buying into Joseph Smith’s incredible tale of the golden tablets would seem to require the gullibility of a child. The problem with singling out Mormonism is that most (all?) religious doctrines are bizarre and totally indefensible. And they score equally high on the weirdness meter. Mormonism’s doctrines about sacred underwear and Jesus’ excursion to North America are no stranger than the Catholic doctrine that one eats the body and drinks the blood of Jesus during mass or the doctrines shared by all Christians that Jesus was simultaneously a god and a human and that he (or the human part of him) regained life after being dead for three days. Or the doctrine of the Jews that they are a chosen people, whose deal with Yahweh was sealed by foreskins. Or the doctrine … OK, you get the point. There’s no need to go through the various doctrines of religious faiths seriatim. They are all rationally unjustifiable.

However, we don’t ask our presidents or presidential candidates to try to justify their religious beliefs. There is an understanding that religious beliefs are a person’s own business, which explains why Romney took umbrage at the observations of Jeffress and why most political commentators have condemned Jeffress.

I don’t have a problem—generally—with this understanding. Under our Constitution, there is supposed to be a separation of church and state, and there is no religious test for public office. There is much prudential value to this policy. Moreover, for many presidential candidates, their religious beliefs don’t seem to have much influence on their policy choices—in fact, I don’t think most presidential candidates think much about their religious beliefs at all. Like many believers, they don’t question the religion in which they were raised, study religious texts, or ponder the truth of religious claims. They go through life making the requisite motions and mouthing whatever words they think others will find appropriate. Religious doctrine holds about as much interest for them as dishwater.

This is not to say that religious beliefs should be immune from examination, in or out of the political arena. It depends on whether they are put at issue. As I argued in a previous post, when a candidate justifies a particular position because of his/her beliefs, then these beliefs are fair game. Were Romney to argue that same-sex marriages should not be legally recognized because his Mormon faith tells him such unions are unacceptable, he has opened the door for critical examination of his beliefs, golden tablets and all. In such a circumstance, it’s not only permissible to question his beliefs, but it’s imperative we do so. However, until such time as he starts citing the Book of Mormon as the basis for his decisions, his absurd religion should not become an issue any more than Obama’s absurd religion is an issue.

CFI has received numerous messages of support and also numerous inquiries essentially asking, “What are you going to do about this?” We are very grateful for the support. The expressions of solidarity and of shared outrage are very encouraging. Discrimination against atheists will stop only when we make it clear we will no longer meekly accept being treated like second-class citizens.

Regarding our next steps, as a former practicing lawyer, I have an aversion to telegraphing our plans. Suffice it to say that we intend to pursue whatever legal remedies are available to us. Stay tuned.