The New Atheists: The Twilight of Reason and the War on Religion [Paperback]

Tina Beattie believes that the conflict between science and religion promoted by secular intellectuals such as Dawkins, Harris and Hitchens is a smokescreen. Behind it is a far more important argument about global power and justice in a post-modern age that is becoming unavoidable.

The New Atheist is a series of short essays that can be read alone or together for a fuller appraisal of the counter argument to the `high priests of atheism'. Beattie sets out to place her contradiction in a series of associations and disassociations. She sees the main target of the New Atheists as the fundamentalist religions and puts together an amalgam of religious ethics that enable her to set her stall outside of any accusation of fundamentalism. This is done by disassociation from mainstream and liberal agendas, avoiding the post-modern condition and putting together a reasoned response to rationality.

At times I felt that I was reading about Richard Dawkins and his New Atheist Army instead of an intellectual anti-theist movement, however the blame for the militaristic approach does appear to lie with Richard Dawkins and his followers as Tina Beattie has done everything she can to pacify this martial agenda

This book is more than a lively provocative debate. Tina Beattie gives us well-argued details of the very real threat posed by fanaticism both religious and secular and in the fanaticism of its followers which have taken hold of the intellectual classes in Britain and America. The New Atheists calls for a more wide-ranging and creative dialogue across religious and cultural boundaries. All of the guns left firing belong to Beattie, she has taken the ground and firmly planted her standard in the enemies camp.

Don't expect a clear and level-headed response to the New Atheists with this one. Instead, expect lots of dubious rhetoric, and sloppy reasoning.

I'll begin this review/critique by focusing on Beattie's approach to the issues of God and faith. This is where the author is at her most ambiguous. The matter isn't helped by the fact that, in addition to confusing the reader, the author appears to be more than a little lost herself. So ambiguity and confusion are the two major problems that we will come up against in what follows.

We'll begin with a typical quote from early on in the book:

"...the word "God" does not denote a "thing" whose existence we can prove, any more than we can prove the "existence" of love, beauty, compassion or hope. I cannot prove that my husband loves me, nor can I prove that Mozart's music is sublime. Michelangelo's Pie'ta is beautiful and Nelson Mandela is good, but even so, I am not irrational or deluded. Indeed, our capacity to believe in intangible truths such as goodness, love and beauty is the source of our most creative human endeavours, including those associated with religion." ( P12-13)

Let's take a moment or two to take this paragraph apart. It's certainly correct that God is not supposed to be a thing. We'll leave aside the implications (or lack thereof) of this point and instead focus on the latter part of the section. Beattie compares belief in God with belief in the lovingness, sublimity, beauty or goodness of various respective people and things. Having pointed out that she cannot "prove" the existence of the qualities just listed, she goes on to claim that the human capacity for belief in such intangible truths is the source of our greatest achievements. By implication we are supposed to think that the same holds for religious belief in the existence of God.

The thing is that -in principle, at least- we actually can prove the existence of the qualities that she has listed. It's simply a matter of assessing the empirical data and having a clear definition of what you're talking about. If you clearly define what beauty is, then we can indeed give a clear answer as to whether or not Michaelangelo's work is beautiful. We might use neurological studies to detect when are where in the brain the activities associated with a sense of "beauty" occur, and check to see if Michelangelo's work does indeed generally illicit such a response. Or alternatively, those of a more philosophical bent might define Beauty in terms of adherence to certain abstract principles, such as symmetry etc'. Once again, we can assess whether or not the work matches the criteria.

That's a minor quibble though. The big problem with her rhetoric in this section is the bogus equivalence she draws with religious beliefs. The comparison to faith in God is faulty because in the case of the examples listed above we are dealing with instantiations of things that we ALREADY KNOW to exist in this world. In all of these cases Beattie is saying "this is one example of that thing that we are familiar with [love, beauty...]" - I know that love exists because I have felt it myself. All that's left is to speculate about who else might share such an experience. On the other hand, in the case of religious faith we require that the believer actually posit the existence of something totally sui generis - a bodiless mind residing outside space (and perhaps also outside of time). This being is said to be perfect in essence, and has the ability to bring matter into existence, simply through an act of will. What possible frame of reference could we give for such a philosophical chimera? There is quite a difference between, on the one hand, positing a new (and some would argue superfluous) existence, such as God, in order to make sense of one's experiences, and on the other hand merely identifying instances of a phenomenon that you are already familiar with.

Finally, with regards to the commendable results of our everyday beliefs in qualities like love and beauty etc', it's worth noting that there are rational limits to this. If a person claims that the Holocaust was the most wonderful, righteous, beautiful act ever committed by human beings, then we would surely consider this grounds for admonishment. Clearly, when making claims about what is beautiful, who's feeling love etc', etc', one must still justify their belief on some rudimentary level. If I kidnap a woman and insist that she loves me, regardless of what she might say to the contrary, would you not challenge me on this point? We find ourselves back at square one, with Beattie being obliged to provide some evidence to justify or rationally support her faith. This evidence is not forthcoming.

Elsewhere the author writes:

"As Dawkins and others rightly point out, we can never "prove" the existence of God through appealing to external facts and objective evidence. We can only evaluate the credibility of any narrative of meaning by considering its arguments and beliefs in the contexts of the people who inhabit that narrative and the ways in which they shaped their world through philosophy, doctrine and ethics, but also through art and literature, music and poetry, devotion and prayer." (P154-155)

This is a slippery paragraph. I agree that Dawkins et al have claimed that we can never conclusively "prove" the existence of God, but everything that follows that sentence is completely down to Beattie. So let's evaluate what she has to say here. It seems as though she's trying to detach faith from all requirements of rational and empirical justification ("if you can't prove that God exists, then why bother giving any reason for believing in Him whatsoever?"). This is what's known as fideism - faith unsupported by reason. Perhaps Beattie will argue that I'm limiting the use of the word "reason", or that I have misunderstood the purpose/nature of religion. Let's take these possible objections one at a time. With regards to what is reasonable, I think it is dangerous to treat propositional beliefs as placebos. By saying that "it is useful to society, therefore it's reasonable to believe it" you are severely muddying the waters of discourse, and making any genuine dialogue impossible. Let's try to clarify the matter. Someone of a Machiavellian bent might well say that it is "reasonable" (i.e. desirable) to encourage people to believe things that will benefit society as a whole, but that's not to say that the beliefs themselves are "reasonable" (i.e. rational). The desirability of people holding propositions is distinct from the justification for the person holding the belief, even though we do casually (mis)use the term "reasonable" in both instances.

Beattie might say that religion isn't about propositions at all. Indeed, by referring to religious beliefs as "narratives of meaning" I think that she may have let the cat out of the bag. However, this begs the question, in assuming that religious people don't hold their beliefs as propositions (for example, when a Christian says that he believes that Jesus came back from the dead Beattie might wish for us to assume that this man doesn't mean to affirm a historical claim at all - the onus is on her alone to back up this position). This is plainly false though. Those of us who are sceptical of religious orthodoxy might well wish that religions were practiced in a minimalist or non-realist fashion that makes no mention of specific doctrinal claims, but that's simply not the case. Many religious people really mean what they say. Now, none of this is to say that religions can be completely reduced down to propositions; only that propositions are important -perhaps essential- parts of the functioning of most religious systems today.
Later on Beattie becomes even more explicit in her fideistic quasi-non-realism:

"Whether or not God exists above and beyond human experience, as humans it only makes sense to say that God "exists" insofar as we embody that existence within the fabric of our own lives and within the language by which we give meaning to the world." (P150)

"Only" makes sense? ONLY? Please note that the above section was written by a "practicing Roman Catholic". The mind boggles at the implications. For 2000 years the church has been telling us that our eternal fates hang in the balance, and that only through faith in Christ (and allegiance to the church, of course) could we hope to find salvation from the flames of hell. Indeed, there are some parts of scripture which might be read as suggesting that the MAJORITY of humanity will burn in the lake of fire:

"for the gate is narrow and the way is hard, that leads to life, and those who find it are few." (Matthew 7:14)

Now ask yourself how are such ideas compatible with what Beattie has flippantly written above? She talks of the meaning of religion for our lives and cultures, but makes no mention of the afterlife, or of the question of salvation, or anything else of an eschatological flavour. And what of Jesus and the crucifixion? What did he come to earth and die for (presuming, for the sake of argument, that Beattie believes that Jesus was really God incarnate)? I've drawn the conclusion that the good Professor doesn't believe in this nonsense any more than I do.

Later on Beattie addresses the problem of evil, and she concludes that none of the old theodicies (arguments that are meant to show the righteousness of God, despite the existence and prevalence of evil in the world) hold water. It's at that point that she throws this at the reader:

"When we talk about God's creation, we need to understand ourselves as characters in a work of creative genius rather than as a unique kind of godlike being in an intelligently designed universe. Read more ›

In this well-informed and intelligent response to the current God debate, Tine Beattie does not so much take sides, but rather takes a step back in order to place both camps in their historical and cultural context. (It emerges of no small significance that almost all the major players are both white and male.)

The danger that we face turns out, according to Beattie, to be neither religion nor atheism, but the idea that we can have certain access to truths for which we can claim the necessary assent of others. The new atheism (Dawkins, Hitchens and co) is presented as not the opposition to, but acounterpart of, the wave of religious fundamentalism that endangers our current world. Beattie offers convincing arguments against both religious and atheistic fundamentalism, drawing on feminist and post-colonial theory to advocate a respect for diversity and a recognition of those whose voices are not normally heard. And these are but a few (central) strands of the book, which reaches a fascinating conclusion of significance for believer and atheist alike.

As an outsider to the current God debate, Beattie emerges as more thoughtful and well-informed than most of those within the debate itself. Her research is presented clearly, and her arguments avoid sinking into the inflated rhetoric and cheap insults that characterise some of the literature she discusses. Although the subject matter is heavy, little prior knowledge is assumed, and difficult concepts are presented with admirable ease, making this book accessible to all who are willing to take the time to stop and think.