“In addition to serving as an explanation for the creation of our universe, our world, and ourselves, God became the ultimate enforcer of rules, the final arbiter of moral dilemmas, and the pinnacle object of commitment.” (57) -- Michael Shermer
Then they will follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws. They will be my people, and I will be their God. (Ezekiel 11:20)
While religion can provide a undisputed alpha for a people to follow, there is a problem that comes with the nature of a supernatural being. Namely, “he” resides “up there.” Above. In the heavens. You can’t see him as being “right here,” part of the group. And as the saying goes, “When the cat is away, the mouse will play.”
When your alpha is remote, how might he or she be capable of influencing individual behavior and adequately rule a group? For one, you can make vision uni-directional. No, you cannot see him. But he can see you. He is always watching. He knows everything. In the next section I’ll address this scenario. In this section, however, I’ll discuss a second way a physically absent alpha can exert control on his group. In brief, like a parent who leaves a to-do list for children when leaving the house—admonishing the youth that these things must get done, perhaps with stated repercussions if they do or don't—a god can dictate rules for his people. Or call them laws.
“Because of Moses’ traditional role in what was, in actual fact, a set of laws that developed slowly over the centuries, the whole is termed the ‘Mosaic law’ or, more simply still, ‘the Law.’ The Hebrew word for the first five books is ‘Torah,’ which is the Hebrew word for ‘law.’” (58)
One might call Moses the first administrative assistant to Yahweh. He dictated laws delivered from above. And much of the Old Testament is, in fact, about laws: about when to apply them, and what happens if you violate them. “Deuteronomy” means second law; in the Pentateuch, the first five books of the OT, (the Torah) there is mention of over six hundred laws.(59) Or call them commandments. Rules. Decrees about how to behave to keep your god’s favor, and, not incidentally, to help maintain social cohesion. Rules help people to not only know what to do, but what to expect.
I remember your ancient laws, O LORD, and I find comfort in them. (Psalms 119:52)
Many of the rules in the Bible may seem arbitrary at first blush. Consider Exodus 17:10:
I will even set my face against that soul that eateth blood, and will cut him off from among his people.
Rules can serve many functions: for helping people get along, for establishing and maintaining group identity, and for propping up the status of the alpha via symbolism.
Any astute reader of the Bible will notice that the “New Covenant” Jesus presents is much less law-like than what we find in the older texts. As Elaine Pagels pointed out in her book, The Origin of Satan: “Whereas Moses’ law prohibits murder, Jesus’ ‘new Torah’ prohibits anger, insults, and name calling; where Moses’ law prohibits adultery, Jesus prohibits lust.”(60) In a sense, this seems like stroke of spiritual genius, turning from behavior to the feeling states that can precede and precipitate it. Yet this turn may have been out of necessity. Jesus preached in more of a cultural crossroads that already has established law. There was Roman law “on the books” and members of Jewish churches had their own sets of laws. So as not to usurp or violate pre-existing laws, and to prevent both alienating individuals in other groups he may otherwise be able to recruit and inciting the wrath of these other groups by stepping on their toes, Jesus went more abstract. Rather than concretely outlining how individuals must “clean up their act,” Jesus instructed his followers and crowds of prospective followers to “purify their hearts.”
Oh sure, there may have been some Carl Rogers-type humanism behind his ways. But we mustn’t forget how strongly our social environment will influence our psychology.
[A]nd whatever other commandment there may be, are summed up in this one rule: "Love your neighbor as yourself." Love does no harm to its neighbor. Therefore love is the fulfillment of the law. (Romans 13:9)
In their paper, “Belief in Moralizing Gods,” published in the journal, Evolution and Human Behavior, Frans L. Roes and Michel Raymond present the case that a type of god, namely one that cares about the behavior of his people—a “moralizing god”—likely serves as a social tool. And tools are invented and employed where a need exists. They write:
“In the case of hostile neighbouring societies, this means cooperation for defensive reasons and, in that of recurring droughts, the maintenance of irrigation networks and restraint in water usage. Cooperation between large numbers of people invariable means moral rules regulating relations between them and prescribing what is right and what is wrong, and with these recurring threats, the moral rules should be imposed with authority. How better than by a moralizing god?” (61)
The god-concept can be a very useful tool for a number of reasons. As Roes and Raymond point out, 1)a god has a potentially unlimited lifespan, 2) because the rules come from a god, group members are more likely to perceive them as impartial, and 3) “Belief in these gods signals acceptance of the rules.”(62) Given a large social group, with little individual knowledge of one another, that last reason could be tremendously helpful. Want to know what rules a person lives by? Determine what god they accept as their leader.
Of course, in terms of actual belief and behavior, it is more complicated than that. For example, the rules a religious person ascribes to tends to govern their behavior when within group. Outside of the group, not so much.(59) Which is not surprising, as social psychology 101 will inform us. But it does highlight the fact that at least originally, religion evolved as a social tool. It isn’t as personal as modern minds have us suppose.
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(57) Shermer, M. The Science of Good and Evil: Why People Cheat, Gossip, Care, Share, and Follow the Golden Rule, Times Books, New York, 2004, p.47
(58) Asimov, I., Asimov’s Guide to the Bible: The Old and New Testaments, Wing Books, New York, 1969, p.17
(59) Dennett, D., Breaking the Spell: Religion as a Natural Phenomenon, Viking, New York, 2006, p.335
(60) Pagels, E., The Origin of Satan, Vintage, New York, 1995, p. 82
(61) Roes, F. L. & Raymond, R., “Belief in Moralizing Gods,” Evolution and Human Behavior, Vol. 24(2), 2003.
(62) Roes, F. L., and Raymond, M., March 2003, Pages 126?135.
(63) Wilson, D.S. Darwin’s Cathedral: Evolution, Religion, and the Nature of Society, University of Chicago, Chicago, 2002, p. 180
Reproductive fecundity, variation, selection. That's how you "spell" evolution.
For more on evolution--particularly on combating creationism--see my post at Florida Freethinkers: Countering Creationism (1): The Emperor is All Gaps
Specificity and precision are crucial to doing good science and to critical thinking.
Exaggerating the results of scientific research goes in the opposite direction. Too often, findings are blown out of proportion. To do this you have to become less precise, less specific; you have to be less scientific.
How do findings get exaggerated? Largely in how those findings are explained and/or advertised. A philosopher friend of mine, Mike Earl (his website: Reasonworks.com) and I often discuss how there is a difference between data/facts and the way we describe and explain and even model them. There is big step between the "hard" facts of science and how these facts are presented. Too often that step gets overlooked.
Consider recent science finding that was presented this way:
What "hard data" was that statement based upon? An experiment that generated this specific result -
The children cooperated more than 78 percent of the time compared to about 58 percent for the chimpanzees.
Study author Daniel Haun said,
"In such a highly controlled situation, children showed a preference to cooperate; chimpanzees did not."
Hmm. A preference for the humans. A strong preference, even. While the chimpanzees showed . . . maybe a weak preference.
While the first blockquote is fully scientific and factual, the second is less so. Between hard facts and the ways we talk of them we find the crucial element of word choice. And words can be used to magnify and exaggerate the findings of science. Or to diminish them. Which somewhat hypocritically runs counter to core scientific values.
Sure, you've got to give researchers some wiggle-room in their choice of words. But fidelity to the facts should be a greater priority. At least to this critical thinker.
It seems that besides "spreading their seed" to foreign lands, rambling men have been transmitters of new languages. At least that's the conclusion presented by this new science finding:
Mother Tongue Comes from Your Prehistoric Father
First the data:
... genetic markers (the male Y chromosome and female mtDNA) from several thousand individuals in communities around the world ...
and the languages spoken by the carriers of those genetic markers. From discovered patterns, the researchers conclude:
Language change among our prehistoric ancestors came about via the arrival of immigrant men -- rather than women -- into new settlements.
That seems to make sense. Throughout history it has been largely men that have left the home and homeland in pursuit of resources beyond. As for why new languages tended to take hold and be found today along with traces of immigrant DNA, the authors speculate:
"Prehistoric women may have more readily adopted the language of immigrant males, particularly if these newcomers brought with them military prowess or a perceived higher status associated with farming or metalworking."
A "mother tongue" is usually associated with a homeland. But languages aren't mined from the earth. Rather, they accompany the gene-bearing people that speak them.
Over the weekend I was listening to a podcast and I heard someone say that "the miracle of childbirth" is almost enough to make a person believe in a god, a fabulous Creator.
Sure, from one perspective, I get it. Two loving adults make love and nine months later, another being comes into this world. One they welcome and love, with oxytocin and other feel-good brain chemicals playing crucial roles in that "a perfect gift, just for us!" feeling.
Yes it is amazing.
But from another perspective, or, say, filmed from another angle, the birth of a child can seem like a goop-covered alien emerging from between a screaming woman's legs. Which is not quite as bizarre as one bursting out of a person's torso; though it is frequently as bloody. Not something a Martian scientist would describe as "beautiful," in my estimation.
The miracle of childbirth? To my mind, the "wonderment" might be a better phrasing. It's such a complex process. One that frequently goes off without a hitch. Or at least seems to. It yields a welcome perfection. And that is miraculous.
But wait a minute. When you consider all the miscarriages triggered by malformed fetuses, the birth defects, the mothers dying in childbirth.... When you look at the process up close and in detail, the veil of welcome perfection evaporates.
Consider this nitty-gritty finding:
Battle between the placenta and uterus could help explain preeclampsia
Childbirth involving a battle? That's one messy miracle.
The lead paragraph tells the story:
A battle that brews in the mother's womb between the father's biological goal to produce the biggest, healthiest baby possible vs. the mother's need to live through delivery might help explain preeclampsia, an often deadly disease of pregnancy. The fetus must be big enough to thrive, yet small enough to pass through the birth canal. In a new study, Yale researchers describe the mechanism that keeps these conflicting goals in balance.
That's not the only baby-making battle that takes place. (Battle? Conflict of interests . . . struggle . . . ?) On the cellular level there are additional mechanisms that assure the growing child does not consume too many essential resources from the mother. To the detriment of her health. With growth unrestrained, the fetus would suck the life out of its mother. It is a near parasitic relationship. Near, not total. So the mother can live and bear another organism of its own type.
It all ends with the birth of a skin-bag encased, growing, organized collection of muscle, bone and brain cells. And how beautiful the child, clasping onto its mothers breast like a tick to a lobe of nutrients. (Sorry, wrong angle.) Even the birth of a hermaphrodite or conjoined twin might be welcome as miraculous, particularly if you focus your gaze on a lovely face.
Rather than a devil being in the details of childbirth, what I find is a hairier truth.
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