Religion and Environmentalism - (quickie)

Actually, what am I talking about? The religious should be the MOST environmentally concerned. 

If there IS a god, a divine creator of the world for us all to live on, what will he say to you when you die having spent most of your life screwing up the planet he made for you? How do you think that will make him feel?

I reckon he's gonna be pissed. 

Atheism and Environmentalism

I don’t know why this has taken so long to dawn on me, but I think I just realized why I have such a problem with religious belief (particularly the idea of an afterlife). It treats this life as a trial run; some kind of proving ground, less important than an eternity after we’re dead.

That sounds bad enough to me, particularly when the religion you are a part of (usually a product of your place of birth and indoctrination during childhood – not exactly profound) expects certain ways of thinking and acting. Think of the friendships and experiences you could miss out on if you have to live by ancient “rules” or only do things that are expected of you. How about the great friend you could have had but were prevented to because they were gay, atheist, Hindu, etc. etc.? We’re already onto a loser, in my opinion. And it’s not even that trusting “faith” over evidence (leading to bad decision processes) is deemed as a virtue that’s the problem. Or the idea that ancient wisdom is somehow better than current understanding based on careful consideration of observations and new data using better tools.

It’s the fact that with the promise of an afterlife, this life, this time, and this universe is deemed less important. Now I hear some of you saying “So what? Each to their own - as long as they're not hurting others, leave them be”. But this is a mistake. If this world (the only one we currently know of that can actually support us) is all we have, then even one person seeing it as relatively unimportant is EXTREMELY dangerous. Why would someone care about looking after the earth if they honestly believe that the rapture is coming for them and theirs within their lifetime? Why worry about the long term effect of your actions if it doesn't matter because god will sort it all out afterwards?

There are people in charge of technology, substances and processes that are killing the planet and many of us are living unsustainably (TRANSLATION: that means we can’t go on living in this way. Not that we shouldn't, but that we CANNOT). There are people in charge of weapons of mass destruction. There are whole populaces who subscribe to the same beliefs that condemn yours and are taught that it is their duty to convert you to their way of thinking or to somehow stop you. A belief that this world will come to an end (and soon) hardly leads these people to live in a way that looks towards the future, and holy books that require a disbelief or distrust of science in general will stop vital information from getting through. 

With such a high percentage of the population considered religious (even in developed countries) who presumably believe in an all powerful creator who is looking after them, it is no wonder that we find it so difficult to get people really interested in thinking of the effect we are having on our planet. 

This scares me. This is the only home that we have ever known. Our inaction as a species is being exacerbated by the continued proliferation of poorly based beliefs that treat this life as a practice, and this planet as a proving ground. I honestly fear for my children, and their children. This is one of the reasons I speak out against religion, and why even “moderate” religious people really need to look at the way they evaluate information and the importance they place on this life and this place. 

The only life and the only home we are SURE that we have. 

Burglary analogy for lack of belief. @godiscosmos

listen to ‘Burglary analogy for lack of belief. @godiscosmos’ on Audioboo

Waiting for the "Uh-oh..."

So, as a thirty-something dad who works full time and does some other stuff that uses my remaining free moments, I've become a tad insular. My days tend to consist of waking up (not having had enough sleep), going to work, driving home, playing with my daughter, putting her to bed, throwing some food down my face and then crashing out into bed. Aaaaand... repeat. 

Now this is fine - I don’t feel like I’m necessarily missing out on anything. I love my family and have some excellent friends. But I realise I don’t get put out of my comfort zone anymore, and I don’t meet new people. My thought for the week, however, is whether some of this is my own doing. I realise that I've become exceedingly private and don’t put myself out there. I’m still pleasant and sociable to people, but don’t make any particular effort to make new relationships. 

People in the UK seem to do this as a matter of course. I know (very superficially) my neighbours on each side of my home but move two doors away in either direction and I wouldn't recognise the people living there from a choice of one. That’s weird, isn't it? I spend all my time when I’m at home within ten metres of these people. We live, breathe, eat, drink, laugh and sleep together, within speaking distance, and each has no idea that the other exists. 

Some new neighbours moved in across the road recently, and came round to introduce themselves to the whole street, house by house (something I've never experienced before). They even had a house warming party that they invited everyone to. I made a pact with myself to go and had a very pleasant time when I did despite noticing how few of the street actually made the effort to turn up. Since then my family and I have been getting on well with them and I hope we can be good friends. But I find myself waiting...

... for the “Uh-oh...”

The "Uh-oh..." could come at any point and from any direction. It could be when the conversation turns to politics, religion, ethics, music, parenting, driving - anything. What if it turns out we disagree massively on a particular issue? What if they turn out to be steadfastly homophobic, aggressively racist, or fundamentally religious? How would we traverse these issues without it getting weird? How would I break it to them that, potentially, the "Uh-oh..." could be a deal breaker and we have to stop hanging out? 

I think this is why most of us keep to ourselves - to avoid this potential issue. Or, (more worrying), is it just me? I realise that I do this all the time. And it's getting to the point when I refrain from letting people in just in case this occurs. Which is insane. So - I'm going for it with this lot. There's nothing so far that gives me cause for concern. Let's just see how it goes.

It's going to be hard not to be on the lookout, though...

Census 2011

In reply to SoggyMog :

Great piece. I think the number self-identifying as non-religious is important, particularly when (as others have already stated) the question is leading. I have friends who have recently christened their newborn "So they have the choice of whether to believe or not - at least they'll have a religion if they want one". 

Whilst I support their open mindedness to the fact that their offspring may not believe what they do, they still feel that being "made" Christian should be the default position. This child could quite easily think of themselves as Christian even if they aren't practising or if they don't believe a word of it (especially if they've never thought about it or don't care either way). 

The question needs rephrasing, perhaps with a "Are you devout / practising?" or one question for family religion and one for personal beliefs (which would be an interesting stat in itself - how many are leaving religion?). Perhaps even an additional question regarding being SECULAR. That would get rid of some justification the church uses for their privileged position. 

St Michael's Mount and Other Crimes

So I’ve just been on a very nice holiday to Cornwall with the family. Typical British summertime break - it pissed it down pretty much constantly. However, a nice cottage, plenty of booze and rich food so all’s well. Perhaps my favourite moment was at St Michael’s Mount. If you haven’t been there, I recommend it. A funky castle on its own island – pretty much all you could ask for as an Englishman.

I was sporting a rather fancy new rucksack that has the nifty feature of being able to plonk the littlun securely in the top giving them a fabulous view over the top of your head whilst you enjoy your hike / stroll / shopping / night out clubbing. This particular model includes a fetching and practical rain/sunshade that covers and protects the child whilst still giving them a (somewhat restricted) view off the outside world.

The favourite moment in question involved a quick visit to the gents, made much easier with baby in tow now that she was strapped to my back allowing both hands to be free (and trust me, I NEED both hands). Owing to the fact my daughter was virtually perched atop my head I thought that using a cubicle would be more appropriate, as it would, after all, be somewhat disconcerting to have a lady (albeit a little one) peering over your shoulder whilst you are trying to urinate. I therefore decided that my two soon-to-be urinal neighbours who followed me in should be spared this discomfort.

I have now, I realise, become very autonomous with regards to the cooing baby-babble that parents tend to use when with their youngsters, often revolving around mundane tasks (explaining what one is doing and why, pointing out objects, etc. etc.). This occasion was no exception - I offer a rough transcription of the cubicle visit below:

“Let’s just shut the door… there we go. Right, this won’t take long - let’s just have a wee wee. Are you OK in there? I can’t see your face unless I get you out, you see. There you are. Aaw, aren’t you beautiful? Where’s your hat? Have you lost it? Well, we’ll have a little look for it later. Is Fluffy OK? He can’t get lost, can he, because we tied him onto the elastic. There we go… all finished. OK then, it’s about time to feed you, isn’t it? Come on, let’s go back upstairs and I’ll get you out in the restaurant.”

So I walked back out past the two gentlemen who were, now I think back on it, standing very still and avoiding any glances in my direction or any sudden moves. I washed my hands and left the loos. It was only when I got outside that I realised that with the rain cover in place it wouldn’t have been obvious that I had my baby daughter in my rucksack...

I’m lucky that the police weren’t waiting for me at the restaurant and that I didn’t spend the rest of my holiday trying to explain to a specialist about my unhealthy relationship with my “Little Friend”.  

Lodger

So. I have a lodger. Even though they moved in more than six months ago, I still don’t think I’ve got into the swing of it. I’d never met them before they moved in, so the whole thing was a bit of a gamble to be honest. However, my housemate said she’d take some time off at the beginning to make sure things went smoothly (it’s a fairly big thing, having someone move in, after all). You’d have thought by now I’d have gotten used to it.

However, there have been some… issues. They haven’t lived in the area before, and their English isn’t good. I’m really struggling to understand them, and I’m not sure they understand me, either. Despite this, they are REALLY needy, always wanting to talk, taking up my time and getting in the way. They keep weird hours and wake me up pretty much every night with their overly loud voice and incomprehensible, irritating whining, with seemingly no comprehension of the effect they’re having on me. It’s almost as if they’ve got nothing better to do; no real structure to their time (they certainly don’t work). I know they’re on benefits, and although most of that goes to us in rent, the financial knock on effects of them being here is starting to take the piss.

I get the impression that they don’t really have any friends in the area other than the ones we introduce them to (which I have to since they seem to always come with us to engagements, even when it really isn’t convenient). They have really bad taste in music, and insist on listening to the same repetitive, cheesy songs on their crap stereo system. If I try and turn this off, they often get really angry and shout at me, again in their unfamiliar dialect. There have been times when it’s put strain on my relationship with my housemate, and we often argue about how to deal with them. More recently, I’ve noticed that they’ve started stealing my food out of the fridge without replacing it or offering any payment – that’s just not on, is it? They’re getting more and more messy AND they expect me to do their washing and clear up after them. I’ve tried talking to them about all these things, but they’re not interested, or pretend to listen and then get distracted by something and stop paying attention. Even when they do listen, they don’t change their behavior, which is infuriating.

They are, by far, the most unreasonable, noisy, inconsiderate, expensive and occasionally aggressive houseguest I’ve ever entertained. And they’re going to live with me for decades.

My lodger is my seven month old daughter and is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I love her more than anything I’ve ever known.