The trouble with certainty

Have militant atheists created a new religion? Despite inaccurate and projective complaints from the religious right, I think they have.

A few years ago, my sister wrote a term paper that cited me as an atheist. She had me proofread the paper, and I stopped cold when I read that. I found something viscerally repulsive about the description, a feeling that surprised me in its force. I'm certainly not religious, but atheist? Is that how I came off? And why does this bother me, anyway?

I had my sister revise the description a bit, learning a little bit about myself in the process. Turns out, I'm not an atheist, at least in the most common societal definition. I'm friends with plenty of avowed atheists, and many of them are (as Frans de Waal describes in the above link) ironically dogmatic about it. They tend to have grown up in strictly religious environments, and have simply replaced belief in a godly system with belief in a godless system. The fervor, the evangelism and the certainty all remain. 

De Waal argues that such a mindset arises from trauma, and I'm inclined to agree. The most militant atheists I know all have some past rift with their indigent church. Even if it's something minor to outsiders, it shaped everything that has come after (and makes it just as likely that they'll change completely yet again in the future).

Such trauma never hit me, probably because church was always an outside experience. We went very occasionally, and for me it always felt like an obligation. I did pick up some Catholic-centric ideas about the nature of heaven, hell and sinning — mostly through reading on my own and imagining heaven as shown on funeral cards — but they were mostly harmless notions easily disposed as I got older. I lived in numerous fantasy lands as a child, and that was just another one of them.

So despite the lamentations of many a well-meaning relative or friend, I think I came out better because of it. I never rebelled because there was nothing to rebel against; my beliefs came about through education and consideration rather than any traumatic rift. That's likely why I rarely think about what I believe, talk even less about it and never try to convert anyone. Personal morals should be an evolutionary process, one not prone to the high-pressure sales tactics of extreme evangelists. Which is why I'm no more comfortable watching Bill Maher rip up a church figure than I am watching Kirk Cameron try to convert people in the Third World. It seems cheap either way.

As to what I believe: it basically boils down to, I just don't know. None of us do. The only certain things are that 1) we're all guessing and 2) that some have preyed on that guessing as a means of real-world control. 

Any other certitude is arrogance. And that's the worst dogma of all.

An easy one about churches and gays

Within the span of a few minutes last night, I saw repeatedly what I guess is the latest talking point against gay marriage — the question of why government needs to be involved in the first place. After all, marriage is a God thing.

I'm glad they finally got around to asking that. But I don't think they're going to like the answer.

Marriage is more than just the covenant thing with God and whatnot. In a secular society, none of that matters. What matters is that two consenting adults enter into a contract that gives them significant legal rights over each other's affairs in specific circumstances. If that partnership dissolves, many things must be settled. This would be true whether or not government officially sanctioned marriage licenses, but this way at least there is redress. It may be a mess, but at least it's a mess with recourse.

The fact that the church's designation doesn't matter in a civil sense is, in fact, the best argument for gay marriage. Because, despite what critics bray, no one is forcing churches to marry gays. Within the confines of their own structures and their own beliefs, they can choose who they marry. And that's because, at least theoretically, we have separation of church and state. The state's job is to allow marriages between two consenting adults without regard for whatever dogma the church states — therefore, the state has no reason to honor discrimination against gays. Leave that to the churches. (But if those churches use public places or outside parties in the practice of discrimination, of course they deserve legal retribution.)

If anything, it's not "big government" to allow gay marriage; it's smaller government. Because as it stands now, churches who wish to marry gays (and yes, those exist) cannot make it legal. How's that for government meddling?

By insisting that marriage is a church thing and not a government issue, critics of gay marriage highlight exactly why governments should stay out of church affairs and vice versa. Thus, government shouldn't sanction what is entirely driven by religion. In this case, not letting gays marry.

Thanks, guys!

Doubling down when equality is divisive

The equal sign has exploded on Facebook like nothing I've ever seen before (even for a medium where a constant bombardment of graphics beg you to "make this your profile pic!"). I don't change my profile picture to reflect topical events, but this was the first time I ever considered it. It's that popular and relevant.

As I said earlier, I'm heartened that gay rights has become such a mainstream movement that its success is all but guaranteed. The emergence of more tolerant generations, among other agents of change, has led to a profound cultural shift that will only accelerate. Make no mistake — no amount of right-wing pushback or occasional legal hurdles will ever shove this shift back in the closet, any more than racial bigots have brought back the days of Jim Crow. The recent flurry of endorsements by politicians, pundits and even religious leaders for gay marriage shows how far we've come, and fast.

So too can this irreversible trend be seen in the last-gasp desperation exhibited by the holdouts. The backlash profile pics on Facebook (such as crosses or the unequal sign, and all tough to separate from parody) are one example. 

Hate the sin, love to hate the sinner.

Here's another example of the wrong-side show, from The Looking Spoon:

I chose this graphic because it touches on several points I've seen separately elsewhere. As a straight white male with no immediate intent to get married, I want to clear up some things:

• My support for gay rights has nothing to do with anything I saw in the media; it has everything to do with compassion and human decency. That's true of everything I believe. I don't recall my befriending of a gay classmate in 7th grade when other kids were throwing things at him to be influenced by a gripping Peter Jennings commentary, but it was many years ago. So who knows?

I do know that, having spent nearly my entire career in media, it isn't the mind-control mechanism so many conservatives think it is. If it was, don't you think they'd hypnotize some revenue out of people before bothering with the echo chamber?

Same goes for Hollywood, by the way. I've appeared in nine movies and a TV series, and I have yet to have a director tell me how we're going to brainwash people. (Maybe that's a lecture they save for the credited actors.)

Oh, and forget college. If going to a university in south Louisiana didn't make me conservative, it isn't going to make a conservative liberal. Well, OK, maybe the second one. Knowledge has a way of opening minds.

• "Real courage" is not the term I'd use to describe adherence to discrimination. There's a reason we consider Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King Jr. and Medgar Evers courageous, and not Lester Maddox, George Wallace and Bull Connor. Right and wrong are often fluid concepts, but sometimes they're granite.

• "Traditional and moral values" have been used to excuse every terrible institution about America since slavery. They never hold up over the course of time, and won't now. It's disingenuous anyway, because where in the Constitution (or even in the Bible) does it say that marriage is exclusively between a man and a woman? And where is abortion? Regressive taxation? Did I overlook those passages? 

• Gay marriage will make America stronger because it represents faith in freedom rather than repression. That we can admit our longstanding wrongs and right them. That we won't adhere to glaring double standards or bend to aggressive bigotry. That's the kind of nation I believe the U.S. needs to be, and was meant to be — America the Beautiful.

That, not the last gasp of rationalized hatred, is the future of our nation. Praise Jesus.

A long-overdue equal sign

No matter what the Supreme Court decides on Prop 8, gay marriage is happening. At this point, the worst the Court can do is uphold the legislation for a few more years. That worst-case scenario doesn't have a chance of stemming the social tide on gay marriage — not that I think the Court will rule that way. This is a done deal. The future. Gay marriage will be seen by babies already born as something they won't believe was ever a fight.

Just a few years ago, the debate on gay marriage was defined by the ick factor. A comedian whose name escapes me once encapsulated the sentiment perfectly. He said (I'm paraphrasing here) that the debate weighed heavily in favor of marriage because all the other side could say was, "They're FRIGGIN' QUEERS!" That's only partially true — opponents also had the Orwellian "special rights" argument (also used to justify racism) and Rick Santorum's telling "man-on-dog" slippery slope. Oh, and that hetero marriage would be demeaned or something. These and other heart-hardening, head-scratching "arguments" were enough to turn the tide of the 2004 election.

Nine years later, even Bill O'Reilly admits that the anti-gay contingent has nothing substantial on their side. Sure, he could just be pandering; but even that fact, if true, reflects the scope of the social shift. Who thought in 2004 that pundits and politicians would side with gay marriage to gain broad appeal? Between then and now, it went from being political poison to being obvious. In less than a decade. Astonishing.

One could argue that advocates successfully sold the arguments that I've long advanced — that a civil contract between two consenting adults should be recognized by a secular government and that gay people deserve the same rights as their heterosexual counterparts. 

But I think it's more than that. One of the redeeming traits of the American people is our capacity to evolve. That evolution, even in the face of lingering ignorance, is toward acceptance and enlightenment. Always. We've gone from being a nation of slaveholders to one that is on the cusp of finally granting gays full civil rights. What drives that evolution? Empathy. Education. Love. 

In a country where freedom is so often defined as the right to hoard money and to discriminate, it's heartening to see a true example of freedom burst forth. I'm excited for what legal gay marriage will mean for all of us — ever so gradually, a more perfect union. 

Good luck sleeping tonight

Oh, the power of a black-and-white printer.

I needed a copy of my driver's license for a movie gig. What I got was my next LinkedIn picture. Oh yeah. Picnic in the park?

Because one standard is never enough

It's about the rod, not free speech

Yesterday, a student teacher in Lafayette was suddenly relieved of his duties and escorted out of his school. The termination was related to some comments he’d made at a school board meeting the previous evening.

When I first heard about this, I was outraged. I’m not a fan of free speech costing you your job, especially in the education profession, nor have I ever been a particular fan of the school board. But after listening to his speech, I understand why the board took action. It wasn’t about speech; he said he wanted “the tools” to do his job. Considering his remarks that discipline alone (not poverty or neglect) is the problem, and that he’d have handled a recent confrontation “in another manner,” I suspect he wants the latitude to beat unruly kids.

I’m not an educator or a parent, nor am I in this guy’s shoes. I’m not here to argue his points (some of which are, in his defense, on the nose). But I know people, and some have itchy trigger fingers (metaphorically speaking). They’re the ones who fight hard for corporal punishment, because they can think of so many times when they’d use it. That’s a red flag in my book.

When I undertook substitute teacher training two years ago, most of the session involved how to handle bad behavior. And the main lesson was, DO NOT LOSE YOUR COOL. My teacher friends tell me that much of the certification process runs along the same lines. Conduct is a vital aspect of teaching that matters every bit as much as the lesson plan, possibly even more so. I don’t have kids, but if I did, I’d rather have them taught by a calm, qualified professional than someone who thinks all problems arise from lack of beatings.

Punishment should always be a last resort, a regrettable use of authority that, when employed, should be measured and not counterproductive. Just like with spanking, use of weapons, going to war or any other decision that can lead to pain, it shouldn’t be something shouted off the mountaintops as a first resort. Those who push hardest for those measures are usually the ones who should have the least discretion to use them.

For that reason, I support at least a disciplinary period against the teacher. Anyone who thinks this is about free speech is missing the point (though I’m sure that is a valid issue in other circumstances). If the teacher in question really cares as he says he does, he’ll use this as a teachable moment. I hope he does and can bounce back as a result. If not, let it be a lesson to others.