Faith envy!

RELIGION FOR ATHEISTS
By Alain de Botton
Hamish Hamilton. 312 pages. £18.99
ISBN 978 0 241 144 770

When this volume appeared earlier this year, arch-atheist Richard Dawkins expressed his dislike of it. I can understand why. From Dawkins’s point of view, the book gives away far too much to the opposition.

Beginning with the customary sneering ridicule of people of faith (how these atheists play into our hands by acting just as pictured in Scripture, 2 Peter 3.3), de Botton’s thesis is that ‘secular society has been unfairly (?) impoverished by the loss of an array of practices and themes which atheists find it implausible to live with’ (p.14). And so the book becomes an exploration of the ‘good bits’ of religious practice, which, according to the author, secular society needs to reclaim and adapt for the psychological and behavioural help of its citizens.

Picking religion’s cherries

In searching for religious insight, the writer only considers three faiths, Christianity (mainly Roman Catholicism), Judaism and Buddhism (why is Islam given no comment, I wonder?).

Alain de Botton explains: ‘Those of us who hold no religious or supernatural beliefs still require regular, ritualised encounters with concepts such as friendship, community, gratitude and transcendence’ (p.298). No explanation is given as to why this need should be there.

Dissatisfied with the way secular society is panning out, the idea is not that secularism is bad, but that ‘we have secularised badly’ and therefore need to rethink. It’s not the idea of secularism, it is the way that it is applied that is wrong. So he begins his survey of what he sees as the best insights of religion in various areas of life which need to be cherry-picked by atheism.

It’s the old story of not wanting Christian doctrine, but wanting the societal fruits of such faith.

Areas of life

He laments the loss of community in the modern West. 21st-century technology and social media actually tend to isolate individuals. Workplace achievement is all that matters now. ‘Once past 30 it is somewhat surprising to make a new friend.’ However, ‘a church, with its massive timber doors and 300 stone angels carved around its porch, gives us rare permission to lean over and say hello to a stranger without any danger of being thought predatory or insane’ (p.30).

With respect to the libertarian view of freedom which has been the dynamo of secularism, de Botton says that most atheist parents have no problem in placing limitations on their children, but as adults ‘we have grown sick of being left to do as we please’ (p.77). ‘Our deepest wish may be that someone should come along and save us from ourselves’ (p.72).

When it comes to education, ‘the modern university appears to have precious little interest in teaching its students any emotional or ethical life skills, much less how to love their neighbours or leave the world a happier place than when they found it’ (p.105). The difference between secular and religious education seems to boil down to the difference between merely imparting information or preparing someone for the workplace and shaping the soul (yes, he uses that word) and a life of public service.

He grieves over the fact that no secular institution teaches the art of living. But why should we think that secularism could ever do this or has a definitive answer to the question of how to live — especially when it is wedded to a ‘no rules’ view of freedom and the priority of self-fulfilment? In a secular worldview how can anyone else teach you how to be fulfilled?

Tenderness and art

He acknowledges the tenderness inherent in Christianity and other faiths. ‘By contrast atheism is prone to seem coldly impatient with our neediness’ (p.173). One is tempted to respond, ‘Why wouldn’t it be if life is simply about survival of the fittest?’ Over against the pessimism which so often characterises atheism, Christianity, though painting a dark view of human nature (de Botton is surprisingly positive about the doctrine of original sin), nevertheless offers hope. Atheism tends to get things out of perspective because, ‘when God is dead, human beings — much to their detriment — are at risk of taking psychological centre stage’.

Looking at the area of art, ‘the fundamental question, which the modern museum has unusual but telling difficulty in answering, is why art should matter’ (p.209). Christianity never leaves us in any doubt about what it is for: ‘It is to remind us about what matters’ (p.215). He goes on to talk at length about architecture and finally comes to the function of institutions in society. He deplores the lack of regular ‘preaching’ of secularism to the country. People need reminding of the values of a godless life. But he forgets that, by and large, the radio, TV and other media subtly and determinedly do this every day. Secular propaganda is fed into almost every home in the land. The TV news, for example, regularly implies that it is only how much something costs in financial terms, that really matters, etc.

Ridiculous?

Where the author particularly shoots himself and his thesis in the foot is when he tries to suggest secular adaptations as replacements for the beneficiary activities of religion. Temples to atheism? Perhaps. Replacing confession of sins (whatever they are in an atheistic framework) by psychotherapy means putting your faith in another erring human being (the therapist) rather than in a perfect loving God? Worrying. Suggesting some kind of ‘star chart’ approach for good behaviour for adults? Now we’re getting silly.

And much as I revere the man, suggesting Winston Churchill as some kind of secular patron saint whose example we are to follow — does this include his behaviour during the General Strike, the bombing of Dresden, his excessive drinking and his wife finding him pretty difficult to live with? It all becomes rather laughable.

Sympathy

However, one cannot help but feel for de Botton in his honest dissatisfaction with secularism. (Perhaps he should read Ecclesiastes.) What we have in this author is a sensitive soul, an atheist who laments the loss of the personal and the human which is the inevitable concomitant of saying in your heart, ‘There is no God’ (Psalm 14.1). But these losses are part and parcel of the foolishness of atheism.

Francis Schaeffer’s logic stands. There are only two possibilities when it comes to the origin of ourselves and our world. It all either had an impersonal beginning or it had a personal beginning. There is no middle ground. And if our origins are impersonal, then life is ultimately without significance. Beginning with the impersonal then wriggle and lament as much as we like, the personal and what we classically think of as ‘the human’ has no meaning in the final analysis. But de Botton doesn’t seem to get it, or more likely doesn’t want to get it.

Meanwhile he provides Christian evangelists with plenty of ammunition.