The issues related to distributive justice have bothered many of us . I assume that as long as you have the capacity for empathy, there was a time when you felt that the world is simply unjust. Nonetheless, when qualifying what inequalities are permitted to exist, there is a tendency to assume that as long as an individual is responsible for those inequalities, then it might be permissible for the world to be somewhat unjust. After all, if we consider that a meritocratic system is the best system available for distributive justice, then it would be unacceptable to grant rewards solely on the basis of chance. For example, we would perceive an unbalance when a person who has done nothing to achieve a reward is given the reward with no strings attached. As long as that person has no disadvantages arising from poor economic and social circumstances or physical and mental ailments, we expect him to work, either intellectually or manually, in order to achieve some welfare in his life. Thus, the lazy should have no claims for social and economic equality.
This view, also known as luck egalitarianism, fits perfectly with many egalitarian philosophers, including Roemer and Cohen. Rewards must be given for the responsible choices people make, and any type of mishap caused by unmade decisions that are not under control, such as congenital disability, should be compensated. However, there is a problem: Luck egalitarianism is fluff as long as there is no resolution to the existence of free will. If there is no resolution to free will, then how can the doctrine of luck egalitarianism say for what choices should people be held responsible? Consider the case of homeless children in Odessa, Ukraine:
If you look at these three children, can you hold them responsible for the situation they are in? Some of you would say that an unwanted child, born in a poor family, in circumstances that encourage coolness and belligerence, has a higher likelihood of screwing up their lives, so they can probably be only partially responsible for who they are. Since luck egalitarianism aims at compensating people who had a large share of bad luck in their lives, it has to find a way that would discern between choice and non-choice, hence it has to inevitably deal with the problem of free will. Until a solution is found, it can be considered flawed on both metaphysical and practical levels.
What a silly question, you might ask. When nihilism represents the rejection of any sort of deity or spirituality, when it asserts that morality and law are subjective, it is clear that nihilism and religiosity are incompatible. Even more, since all nihilists are by necessity atheists, how could a religious person be a nihilist and at the same time an atheist?
The logic does not work both ways, however. Remember that atheists are not necessarily nihilists, and some atheists have some sense of spirituality, but they give credit to the fact that their make-believe is just that, make-believe.
Crazy Watering Can:
Documentary about Deborah, a thirteen-year-old born and educated in a theist family:
Documentary about 13-year-old Deborah Drapper, who — unlike other British teens — has never heard of Britney Spears or Victoria Beckham. She is being been brought up in a deeply Christian family and her parents are trying to make sure she and her ten brothers and sisters have grown up protected from the sins of the outside world.
Deborah is a bright, confident girl who has big ambitions for her life, and the film spends a summer with her as she ventures out into the world to see what life outside her family could be — as she starts putting her beliefs forward to a wider audience.
This post will be a long read for you. I spent more than a month unsuccessfully persuading myself not to write anything on this topic, but thoughts just kept pestering me to the degree that I could not focus on other, more important things.
Being godless does not come only from carefully considering the evidence on the existence of the supernatural and reaching the conclusion that since there is no evidence, then the claims on the existence of god are unsupported. It is common knowledge by now that you can be godless simply by being apathetic. You probably met individuals who resist the desire to be proselytized not because they can point fallacies in religious thinking, but because they do not care about metaphysical questions at all. For them the existence of god carries as much importance as the existence of unicorns. This message is not for them.
In my own time, I have done my own share of evangelizing. Although I was not committed to a church, I surely tried to convince others that believing in the Christian god is a good thing. Since the Orthodox Church in my country is known for its bigotry and corruption, it was not hard to persuade some people that you can believe in god without necessarily believing in a church. Of course, now, when I look back, I am embarrassed. I remember those moments when I was surreptitiously perusing Jehovah Witnesses’ books, or those where I was standing up in an auditorium of a church filled with two hundred to two-fifty people, mumbling words of a karaoke song from a screen, “O, Jesus please save me,” thinking about how crazy are the people in the front row with their raised hands, twirling as if in a Sufi-like dance. I remember the moment when my father called me during one of those Christian sermons, and asked me about the songs in the background, and how I had to answer, or better lie, that I was at a rock concert, certainly a place where a normal sixteen-year-old guy should be. I doubt that he believed me, since in a conversation that did not last more than one minute he asked me twice about the music, and who would ever believe that rock concerts are held at ten in the morning?
But this image of me as a believer did not describe me entirely. I was a believer only in the eyes of the unbelievers or agnostics or believers who went to church out of tradition, but who had little knowledge of the bible and history of religion. In the eyes of more avid Christians, however, I was at best an agnostic or an atheist who was yet noncommittal about his lack of belief. After all, I always asked controversial questions about all the rape, war, incest, and other things that are supposed to be sinful with which the Bible is replete. I had good conversations with these avid Christians, from which I learned that most of them did not read the Bible entirely, but have selectively taken mostly the good parts in it. Even pastors who led the sermons at some protestant churches, which in Moldova are called rudely “SEKTA,” a name that in the US would be attributed to Moonies, were reluctant to talk about the darker parts found in the Bible. That is when I understood how powerful the social bonding among protestant Christians is. I realized that many of them do not come to sermons only to hear the “Message,” but they come there because they can find supporting friends, who would be glad to help them with whatever spiritual or financial troubles they might have. They come and have a good conversation with like-minded people, and also feel good about themselves for leading a subjectively righteous life. Or they come there because the food is delicious, as it often happened and happens in my case.
Clearly, I have changed. I was an unaffiliated Christian, then an agnostic, and now I am atheist. I treaded the same road from belief to disbelief that many others went on, but I know that this journey would have been bumpier and longer if someone challenged my belief in the existence of god. Why? Because whenever someone’s personal beliefs are challenged in a militant way, that someone will erect barriers that no amount of reason and persuasion can surmount. I remember the rare occasions when I met atheists, who were extremely polite and nice people, and how after conversing with them on matters of religion I would end up being more convinced that I was in the right and they were in the wrong. How else can you make your case in such an uneven debate, where you have to prove the existence of the nonexistent with rational arguments, but by ruefully maintaining your apologetic quackery? Unless you are a new-age creationist, such a Michael Behe or Gerald Schroeder, who conjures data in a mystical way, there is as much evidence you can provide for the existence of god as there is for the existence of crab-people.
Later, I got rid of the Pascal’s wager that you can find in his apologetic notes in the Pensees. I realized that persuading people to believe in a deity simply because the bets are lopsided is emotionally manipulative and undignified. “Well, you know,” says Pascal, “that if you do not believe in Santa, he might change his mind and not bring you anything for Christmas.”
Still, I am not a militant atheist. I know from my own experience that defending my lack of belief and attacking religious groups would only make things worse. That is why I do not support leading atheists like Dawkings, Hitchens, Dennet, Harris, and especially Silverman, although I share their line of reasoning when it comes to the existence of god. They have been promulgating a message of atheism for more than enough time, and I believe that their message has strengthened the lack of belief in atheists, but it has not added any use in persuading believers to let go of their irrationality. Even atheistic demotivators or motivators or whatever those black-framed photographs are called, with their cutting humor that mocks religion, are pandering to atheists and are reinforcing the faith of believers. Saying to a large group of people that they are foolish enough to believe in something that does not exist is a quite telling message, which is often met with aggressive responses. In order to show you how far people can go to rationalize their beliefs, let us look at an observational study described by Leon Festinger. Go Wiki:
Festinger and his associates read an interesting item in their local newspaper headlined “Prophecy from planet Clarion call to city: flee that flood.” A housewife from Chicago, given the name “Marian Keech” (real name: Dorothy Martin, later known as Sister Thedra), had mysteriously been given messages in her house in the form of “automatic writing” from alien beings on the planet Clarion. These messages revealed that the world would end in a great flood before dawn on December 21, 1954. The group of believers, headed by Keech, had taken strong behavioral steps to indicate their degree of commitment to the belief. They had left jobs, college, and spouses, and had given away money and possessions to prepare for their departure on the flying saucer, which was to rescue the group of true believers.
Of course, the end of the world did not happen, and many of us would assume that that would be it. What happened, however, is that most members rationalized their beliefs by claiming that their faith saved the world. Also, before the day of the supposed apocalypse, they preached their message reluctantly, while after the dis-confirmation, they became ardent missionaries, tirelessly maintaining their belief in aliens from the planet Clarion.
Does it, then, make sense to aggressively promote a message of disbelief, if the end result is the opposite of what atheists want?
If you do not have a penchant for reading literary novels or if you see in poetry nothing but lines of words, utterly abstruse, foolish, and unnecessary, brought together carelessly by naive poets, who might as well speak a foreign language, then you are not likely to care too much about the sequence in which words are used. But if you do like poetry, if you do like novels, then you are very likely to care about the verbal freshness of words that are used to convey meaning. After all, the plot of the Lighthouse might as well be summarized in one page, except that when some of us read it, we look for something more than just a simple story.
Of course, not all of those who spend their days savoring Shakespeare and Hugo do so because they were born with an innate talent to relish on words. The first book that was put into your hands was likely something easy to handle (mentally), and described an interesting, magical tale. But would you consider, as you grow up, that reading literature affects sensitivity to word distributions when reading texts? If the answer is yes, this, at the very least, would explain why an Anglophile abhors Dan Brown’s novels, while I, an uneducated boor, never got a knack for Shakey.
So, do we really develop an acquired taste to detect skill and beauty in literature? Do we really have the affinity to detect the small incongruities in the words others pick to make sentences, so that later we can point out to ourselves that the writer, with all his talent, must’ve used some other word to please us? Apparently, yes.
A closely knit group of researchers at the department of psychology at Stanford found that reading habits affect the judgments of writing quality. Their study rests on the premise that language is probabilistic in nature. That is, some words occur together more frequently than others, and we often can finish each others’………………..sentences because we have a preference for some chunk frequencies than others, even though there is no difference in the meaning conveyed. A briefer, yet humorous explanation is provided below:
Yes, things are not all that simple. If you do not put much relevance to the context in which language is used as it is done in the comic strip ( and which you must always do in real life!), and only look at the probabilities that define the preference for certain chunk frequencies rather than others, then you notice that if we defy those probabilities and use a somewhat odd expression, we get the feeling that something doesn’t feel right. The authors of the paper give an example:
In many ways, the idea that we pay attention to how words are used is hardly surprising. It seems obvious, for example, that “a daunting task” sounds more “right,” or more familiar, than “a daunting job.” In fact, although job is a higher frequency word than task, “a daunting task” appears over a hundred times more frequently on Google than “a daunting job.” We are sensitive to the different frequencies of the two chunks and prefer the one with the higher frequency, even though there is no real reason why a job cannot be described as daunting.
With this, Kao et. al set forth to test if “literary readers would be more sensitive to the probabilistic distributions of literary words than nonliterary readers.” They selected four and four excerpts of literary and non-literary writing and manipulated the frequencies of several chunks. They hypothesized that literary readers (those who love reading literary works) are likely to give higher ratings for passages that have higher chunk frequencies of what could be called ‘literary blocks.’ Non-literary readers would prefer reading passages that have been modified to contain non-literary chunk frequencies. Here is an example from the paper:
(a) On the further side of the field – this is the original chunk frequency suited for literary works.
(b) On the further part of the field -this is a modified chunk frequency suited for non-literary works
As you can probably notice, the meaning of both sentences is the same, but for an Anglophile the modified expression would sound odd and would make her give a lower rating. A person who reads non-literary works would likely prefer the modified chunk because he is used to seeing it more often (i.e., has higher frequency in his corpora).
As it was assumed, there was a significant interaction between the subject’s reading preferences and habits. Those who mostly read literary works gave higher ratings to original passages that have higher frequency chunks, while non-literary readers preferred mostly passages with non-literary chunks. But that is only for literary passages. For non-literary passages, all subjects preferred the originals.
Kao, J., Ryan, R., Dye, M., & Ramscar,M. (0). An acquired taste: How reading literature affects word distributions when judging literary texts. Not specified