Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts
Showing posts with label humility. Show all posts

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Stoopid

I'm reading Idiot America at the moment, by Charles Pierce.  


Ok, I confess that I got the book because I like poking fun at the good ol' USofA, and I thought that this book might be a good laugh.  It is, but it also cuts uncomfortably close the bone, even here in Australia.
The three Great Premises of Idiot America:
  • Any theory is valid if it sells books, soaks up ratings, or otherwise moves units
  • Anything can be true if someone says it loudly enough
  • Fact is that which enough people believe. Truth is determined by how fervently they believe it
I suspect that Mr Pierce and I wouldn't agree on lots of things in the public policy debates in his country or mine.  I'm pretty certain that we have very different worldviews.  Some of what I believe he would comfortably (and maybe even fondly) label as "crank".  From him, I would probably take it as a compliment (you'll have to read to book to understand why).  


But I think that we would agree on this: the quality of public debate in America (and Australia) is now so poor that it's really no debate.  It's much more like this:




Mr Pierce's book seems to say that what passes for public debate now is little more than a series of unrelated pep-talks to the respective teams.  There is little-to-no engagement with fact, or even much effort to discern what the true facts are.  There is no engagement with the arguments and assumptions held by "the other side".  There is overweening arrogance and self-aggrandizement from those in power and authority (and from anyone who manages to get onto talk TV or talk radio).  There is extraordinary apathy and cynicism from the vast majority of people on most issues.  


Above all, there's the official dogma: Everyone is entitled to their opinion, and all opinions are entitled to equal respect.


Is it naive to hope for a culture in which most people learn to discern truth from falsehood?  In which most people can recognise nonsense, even when it's dressed up as serious opinion?  In which one is confident enough to say so?  In which one is humble enough to be corrected and to change his opinion?


How do we start to create a culture like that?


(I borrowed Idiot America from my local library, LINC Tasmania.  Or you can buy the book from Amazon, Kobo, Collins, Fullers or other bookstores)



Tuesday, May 29, 2012

Exclusion

"AUSTRALIA is supposedly a secular nation, so why does religion still define our laws?"

This is how Rebecca Fitzgibbon opened her opinion piece in the Mercury on May 23rd, which was about the influence of religious opinion in the gay marriage debate.  The basic premise of her argument seems to be that Australian legislative policy is unduly and improperly influenced by religious ideas.  Ms Fitzgibbon raises a number of points specifically relating to gay marriage and equality (whatever she specifically means by that).  The purpose of this post is not to engage with those arguments, but rather to challenge the fundamental assumption underlying her article - that religion and religious people should have no role in the Australian polity.  In her words:
Religion remains influential over our rights, affecting political discourse and decision-making on issues such as marriage equality, voluntary euthanasia, same-sex surrogacy, access to abortion, refugee processing and the rights of sex workers.
We will not be a truly democratic society while this continues because the religious morals that dominate these debates do not represent the beliefs of one-third of Australians.
I've singled Ms Fitzgibbon's article out, as it is recent.  The assumptions she expresses about the role of religion in public discourse are in circulation elsewhere, and so warrant some attention.


Firstly, the argument goes that Australia is a secular democratic society, not a religious society.  A significant proportion of its population holds to no religion, or to a religion that is not Christianity.  It follows that the Australian population does not all hold to Christian morality or belief. Therefore it is wrong for Christian morality or beliefs to influence public debate.

I hope that putting the argument this simply makes plain the inherent fallacy.  The argument rests on the assumption that secularism is a neutral position - that it does not contain any value judgment or belief about God or the supernatural.  The assumption is that secularism is a position that can be adopted by everyone, as it is neutral.  Therefore, the only legitimate mode of argument in our democracy is one that ignores the questions of God's existence.  A person may believe in God's existence, and order her private life accordingly, but must not carry this over to the public sphere. To do so is to improperly affect public debate and discourse.

But that assumption is false.  Secularism is not a neutral position about God's existence; some space that all can occupy and meet in equally.  It contains a positive belief about God: either that he does not exist, or else that he is irrelevant to society and its public affairs.  Secularism therefore permits a person with a certain view about God (that he doesn't exist, or that he's irrelevant) to argue from his convictions, while requiring a person with another view about God (that he does exist and is in fact sovereign over society) to abandon his convictions in public discourse.  But why should this be?  Why should some people have to abandon their convictions in public discourse, while others do not?  This is not equality, nor is it democracy.

The second strand of the argument is connected: it says that a person without religion should not be bound by religiously motivated laws.  This argument is again misconceived.

Whether or not a person is bound by a law does not depend on the motivation of those promoting or passing the law - it depends on whether the law has been passed by the properly constituted authority (the Parliament) according to the proper processes.  That is what the rule of law in a democracy is all about.  Consider Australia's many illicit drug laws - they are supported by many (not all) people, and passed by most (not all) Members of Parliament.  No doubt the motivations of those supporting the laws vary - some from harm-minimisation considerations, others from a desire to stifle crime, others from a paternalistic viewpoint of protecting potential users, others from a moralistic view of restraining intoxication.  But whatever the motivation, the laws were passed by proper processes, and bind everyone in the country.

The situation with same-sex marriage is similar: a person may oppose a change to existing law on religious grounds, on aesthetic grounds, on sociological grounds or on anthropological grounds.  Whether the law is changed or not does not depend on motivations, but on argument, persuasion and, ultimately, numbers.  

So what can the assertion even mean, that a non-religious person shouldn't be bound by religiously motivated laws?  How would I work out what laws I'm bound by, and which ones I can safely ignore?  Does the atheist drug-smuggler have a right to a recount, based on the religious motivation or affiliation of those MPs who passed the anti-trafficking law?  Do we call each MP to ask why they voted for (or against) a piece of legislation?

In fact, our democratic institutions work best when the freedom is preserved to express our deepest convictions, and to express them persuasively and with passion.  Of course this requires that all parties in the democratic process have the respect for each other to listen to argument, and to respond to the argument that is actually made.  When this occurs, trust in the institutions themselves is strengthened, the people believe more firmly in the democratic process and are more likely to trust the outcomes of those processes (whether they like them or not).  

What is the alternative?  That opinion becomes muted to please those in authority or influence; or that some convictions or opinions are declared to be unutterable bigotry by some elite.  In such circumstances, trust in democracy and in the democratic institutions is eroded.  The outcome seems a foregone conclusion.  The elite will have their way.

Unfortunately, in many of the debates that Ms Fitzgibbon mentions, the rhetoric of rights and equality is used as a method of stifling the voices of those who argue from a position of faith in God.  


So what is to be done?  I think three things:

  1. Be bold. Don't be afraid to voice your convictions.  Be self-critical, to make sure that they are sound: based on good evidence and sound reason.  But do be respectful of others when you speak!
  2. Be humble.  Listen well to what others say.  Don't jump to conclusions - ask questions.  Ask questions to clarify what someone means.  Ask questions to test how far they're willing to go.  Ask questions to see whether their assumptions are valid or whether they're unsustainable.  Ask questions!
  3. Teach.  Kids tend to be vulnerable to the sort of rhetoric (and sometimes vitriol) that is spread about in highly controversial debate.  We need to teach our kids how to calmly and rationally state and support a position, and how to cut through the tangle of personal attack, hidden assumptions, sloganeering and faulty logic that characterises much current public debate.




Thursday, March 8, 2012

icky jobs

I'm talking to the kids at St Aidan's this Sunday about Jesus washing the disciples feet (John 13:1-17). What fun can't you have telling a story to a bunch of 5-9 year olds about an insanely disgusting cleanup job.


It feels like I've known the story from my mother's womb - just before the last supper, Jesus knows he's on the way to the cross, he strips off and washes the road grime, mud and animal droppings off his disciples' sweaty, stinky feet. Peter protests; he's overruled. Jesus tells his disciples to mimic his humble actions.  


I've always seen it as an example Jesus set us to follow, so my thinking has usually been - "knowing this story, what do I need to do to copy Jesus' example? How should I be serving others?"


But this time, I was struck by something new: 
He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, are you going to wash my feet?”
Jesus replied, “You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.” 
“No,” said Peter, “you shall never wash my feet.” 
Jesus answered, “Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.”
John 13:6-8

Jesus answer to Peter doesn't make sense if he is just setting an example to follow.  Jesus can hardly be saying: "Come on Simon, I need to make a point here!  Just cooperate."  By the time he'd got to Peter, he'd already washed enough feet to make his point.


No, Jesus' act was more than an example to follow (although it is that too).  Jesus was acting out a parable. This event is firstly about what Jesus does for me and you, and then secondly about what we do in response to and imitation of him.


He lowered himself to the meanest level, to clean his followers' feet, ready for the great supper that was prepared for them.


And the following day, he suffered an even greater humiliation to carry out an even greater cleansing, to prepare an even greater number of followers for an even greater banquet!


Are you one of them?