Lots of good exchanges. Sullivan's first salvo is largely based on the "look at all the good works of the faithful" argument. Harris' response is well done - I found this to be the money quote (emphasis mine):
As I have argued elsewhere, the alleged usefulness of religion--the fact that it sometimes gets people to do very good things indeed--is not an argument for its truth. And, needless to say, the usefulness of religion can be disputed, as I have done in both my books. As you may know, I've argued that religion gets people to do good things for bad reasons, when good reasons are actually availableYes, people of faith do good things, often because of their faith. It still doesn't make their beliefs either true or necessary.
Harris accuses religious followers of lying to themselves and others, that they make claims they can not possibly know. In response to this, Sullivan accuses Harris of intolerance (emphasis mine):
When we speak of things beyond our understanding - and you must concede that such things can logically exist - we are all in the same boat. Your assertion of nothingness at the end of our mortal lives is no more and no less verifiable than my assertion of somethingness. And yet I do not accuse you of lying - to yourself or to others.
First of all, I doubt Harris would tell anybody there is no life after death, but he would say it's highly unlikely. His assertion might be no more verifiable, but it is more reasonable. The lie is in the confidence in the assertion, not in the assertion itself. As Harris points out (emphasis mine):
What if I told you that I am certain that I have an even number of cells in my body? What are the chances that I am in a position to have actually counted my cells (there are on the order of 100 trillion) and counted them correctly? Would it be unfair (or worse, "intolerant") of you to dismiss my assertion as either a product of self-deception or outright dishonesty? Note that this claim has a 50% chance of being true (unlike claims about virgin births and resurrections), and yet it is patently ridiculous.
As to the usefulness of such lies, I love this response from Harris:
Mommy claims to know that Granny went straight to heaven after she died. But Mommy doesn't actually know this. The truth is that, while Mommy may be rigorously honest on any other subject, in this instance she doesn't want to distinguish between what she really knows (i.e. what she has good reasons to believe) and 1) what she wants to be true, or 2) what will keep her children from grieving too much in Granny's absence. She is lying--either to herself or to her children--but we've all agreed not to talk about it. Rather than teach our children to grieve, we teach them to lie to themselves.
Amen, brother. Keep your sweet lies to yourself - let me plow through the harshness of reality to a better, and ultimately happier, resolution.
In Sullivan's next response:
I cannot prove Christiannation it to be true, in empirical fashion, then my faith must be excluded from rational discourse. In fact, if I understand you right, it must not only be excluded, it must be stigmatized. It must be ridiculed.
I don't see how he can claim that Harris wants Christianity to be excluded from rational discourse when he's actively participating in a rational discourse on the subject. He then gets a little wishy washy, trying to differentiate between empirical truths and those truths "beyond reason". I think he goes way off the rails here:
Discovering that historical truth is the vocation of a historian - and it is a different truth than science, and reached by a different methodology and logic.
Buh-loney. It is not a different truth than science, though it is less precise than other disciplines. Historians do take scientific approaches to their work. They allow for new evidence to challenge consensus beliefs. They seek to reach consensus among various source materials. They're basically detectives.
I did like this section from Sullivan:
I may believe these things, but I am aware that others may not; and I respect their own existential decision to believe something else. I respect their decision because I respect my own, and realize it is indescribable to those who have not directly experienced it.
Would that all of the faithful were as open to uncertainly as you, Mr. Sullivan. The problem here is that one who is open to both faith and doubt still has little ammunition with which to engage another armed with faith and certainty.
Sullivan goes into, basically, a Unitarian explanation of the world in his next response - all religions are true expressions of God, but we all have to come to God based on our own place in time and space. he then says:
In fact, people of faith who are not fundamentalists may be the most important allies you've got. Why don't you want us to help out?
This struck me because I asked a similar question in a recent post. I still wrestle with this, but I guess right now my response is that I don't mind you helping out, but I don't think you're going to get very far. Sullivan issues a lengthy testimonial that basically says he has no explanation for his faith, it's just always been there. That's great for him, but how is that supposed to convince anyone else, either atheist or fundamentalist?
Harris is a wizard with analogies. I loved this response to Sullivan's tale of living as a homosexual Catholic:
I find it peculiar that you consider your successful ordeal of living as a homosexual in a homophobic faith to be evidence in support of the religious project. It's like hearing a man who has been unfairly confined to a straight-jacket all his life say that he is grateful to have been taught such "economy of motion."
Anyway, the entire exchange is long but well worth the read. I'm about halfway through it. Despite my obvious alliance with Harris here, Sullivan is an excellent foil for him. I recommend it to anyone who has not yet read it.
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