On Angry Atheists and the Religious Herd

Upon hearing the news that Christopher Hitchens passed away, I started to think about why his writing hadn’t really made an impact on me in the way it clearly has done with so many others (either in a very positive or a very negative way). I wrote it up in a short blog post on Friday afternoon.

Michael Cote, who writes the Climate Adaptation blog, sent in a quick reply about a phrase that I included (which, I should point out, came from a quote in an older post of mine about the prospects for a kinder, gentler atheism):

“angry atheism”- pssh. it is disgraceful that the targets of hitchian atheists, eg christians who rape kids, bishops who live in luxury while preaching to poor africans, etc., get a free pass. why should these targets be treated gingerly? argue that.

I responded, pointing out that I wasn’t taking a position in this particular post about religious people who do horrible things or behave in a contradictory manner. We all know that such people exist and you won’t find a defense of their behavior on this blog. That said, I also noted that I found it instructive that atheists of Hitchens’ stripe don’t really have a lot of nice things to say about ordinary religious people, those who aren’t behaving horribly or living in contradiction. In other words, I’d like to find some middle ground where we might condemn religious people who do terrible things (either in the name of religion or under its protective cloak) while also allowing that lots of religious people don’t do terrible things (or might even do a fair number of very nice things).

Cote, by way of reply, suggests that such a middle ground might not exist. By way of comparison, he writes:

Your reply reminds of my problem with most environmentalists - they don’t vote nor participate much in local politics. Shall I praise them for composting, and give them a free pass for their demonstrable low voter rates? Shall I give them pat them on the back for signing the occasional polar bear petition?

I suppose my short answer — one that is likely to be unsatisfying to Cote (and to many others), but that I nonetheless believe to be correct — is “Yes.” It would be better if more environmentalists participated in politics, just as it would be better if more religious people held their leaders responsible for their behavior. But it’s also not a bad thing for people to compost or sign a petition, just as it isn’t a bad thing for a religious person to act charitably.

Cote continues:

“Isn’t composting good for goodness sake?” is the argument I face time and again. “No!”, I respond. ‘Read the Federal Register. Comment on environmental bills. Run for office. You have the power.’ etc. 

But, you’re right. The religious do not live in democratic system. They take commands. There are no viable mechanisms to hold their commanders to account.

Hitch et al assume (falsely, apparently) that believers have the ability to think and act for themselves. They think believers have the ability to hold their commanders to account. “Fools!” their critics say. They do not, nor cannot, and are not responsible for their leaders ill acts because 1) they dug a well and 2) the systems of religion are not remotely democratic but no one is allowed to point this out.

I can condemn my fellow environmentalists for not acting because they have the power to react. Hitch et al, as you rightly show, should not hold any good Christian or Muslim etc., to account because, after all, being good is good enough.

With that in mind, the position I want to sketch out has two features:

1. Religious people are not held morally responsible for the horrible actions of their leaders simply because they are religious;
2. But religious people can be held morally responsible if they excuse those actions or simply put their heads in the sand and pretend the actions are not occurring.

The benefit of adopting such a position is that it avoids the collective guilt that Hitchens and others want to ascribe to all religious people while still holding wrong-doers accountable. Simply because someone uses a position of religious authority to commit a wrong act doesn’t mean that all religious people are necessarily accountable. But, of course, a religious person shouldn’t rest easily while crimes are being committed simply because I’ve argued against collective guilt for religious people. If one of your co-religionists has committed (or is committing) some moral or legal offense, it is imperative for you to speak up, to denounce such an offense, and to take action against it. Those who refuse to ask questions or to denounce something that is clearly wrong because they think their faith demands unquestioned obedience to priests, rabbis, or imams are clearly blame-worthy when those leaders do or say something terrible.

At bottom, I think it’s a mistake to suggest that there is necessarily something nefarious at the heart of religious belief, even if many religious believers act in ways that we can easily agree are repugnant. It’s also a mistake to suggest that religious people are no better than herd animals, incapable of ever raising their heads and questioning what their leadership might do or say. Of course, some might say that this is precisely what organized religion encourages, that it clearly demands adherents to give up their questions and simply have faith in the answers that are provided. But even if there is a whole lot invested in the notion of religious hierarchy, it isn’t a necessity that the faithful allow abuses by their leaders.

Having written all of this, I want to conclude by suggesting that we’ve been over this ground before. A great many people, atheists and not, become irate whenever someone suggests that all Muslims should be connected to violent extremists who also happen to identify as Muslims. And with good reason. It’s a mistake, we say, because there’s nothing about Islam that necessitates violence; indeed, the vast majority of Muslims renounce terrorism or extremism. In other words, we want to be able to separate one group of believers from another group and we’re dismayed — at least some of us — when others refuse to understand that separation.

In short, we want people to understand that not all Muslims are terrorists or supporters of terrorism, so we should be able to recognize that other believers don’t condone or participate in the crimes of their co-religionists.

Should religious people denounce their co-religionists when they commit crimes and violate the tenets of their faith? Absolutely. When they fail to do so, are they morally responsible for enabling the criminal behavior? Certainly. But does the fact that some religious people commit crimes and violate the tenets of their faith mean that all religious people are worthy of our general condemnation? That doesn’t follow and that’s the problem with Hitchens and the other angry atheists.