Woody Allen on atheism

January 31, 2015 • 3:10 pm

Here’s a collection of Woody Allen’s views on atheism and God, seen in both interviews and his movies. His dolorous take on the world is absolutely characteristic of a secular Jew, and I should know! (It’s encompassed in this joke: “Jewish telegram: Start worrying. Details follow.”)

There’s a gratuitous but highly entertaining fight with a kangaroo at the end; be sure to see how it balances itself on its tail when it strikes.

h/t: John Danley

87 thoughts on “Woody Allen on atheism

  1. The kangaroo at the end appeared to be just as awkward and confused as Woody Allen and they were both scared of each other. They would have probably bee good friends outside the studio. No wonder they both attacked the suited guy.

    1. Was that even a kangaroo? I’d suspect a guy in a suit if that wasn’t equally physically unlikely.

      My impression is that kangaroos prefer to use their back legs to kick with, as in this video:

  2. Allen does not portray a positive or realistic view of atheism, and I reject everything he says. If he’s a depressed person, it’s for some other reason.

    The secular Jews that I know are quite cheerful people.

    1. Lots of people relate to Woody Allen’s take on things. I doubt he would have become as famous as he is if that weren’t the case.

      Personally I think it transcends cultural backgrounds or religions.

      1. “Personally I think it transcends cultural backgrounds or religions.”

        That’s my point. If identifying with his point of view is required for success (I’m not sure it is), then most of the people with this view are theists, since you can’t make a living catering to atheists. 🙂

    2. I’m an atheist and I agreed with everything he said and found it funny. Therefore it wasn’t negative or unrealistic. Since it’s just between us two, so far (if a few other people get involved then the next bit is going to involve fractions). I would say it was half realistic and half negative, or half-unrealistic and half positive depending on how nihilistic you may be.

      1. “I’m an atheist and I agreed with everything he said ”

        So what? My point is that this is not a necessary view of the universe if you’re an atheist. If you have that point of view, it’s for other reasons.

        Allen strikes me as a miserable person, and that plays into the stereotype that people have of atheists.

        1. The whatness comes from your idea that Woody Allen is not portraying a realistic view of atheism when my own atheism is very similar to his and so your line needs an amendment like the one you just gave.
          He doesn’t strike me as miserable but I don’t know him very well. We can be depressed and amusing or amused at the same time, sometimes the meaningless and temporariness of life is funny. The stereotype of atheist he plays is the smart and funny one. If you’re into stereotypes then that’s a pretty good one.

          1. “your line needs an amendment like the one you just gave.”

            Nah. It really goes without saying that there are exceptions to every generalization and pointing one out doesn’t mean the generalization isn’t true.

            Most atheists find meaning in life, or at least as much meaning as most theists.

          2. Life is inherently meaning less but meaning can be found for sure, even if one is a theist. There are exceptions to every generalisation but that doesn’t mean the generalisation isn’t true.

          3. Besides Greg, Woody Allen says he finds meaning — or at least he says the struggle of the artists is to find meaning. I found all the videos spot on.

        2. Where did Woody Allen say it was a “necessary view of the universe if you’re an atheist”?

          Besides, his final monologue is of the ‘we only have one life so make the most of it’ style of optimistic non-belief.

    3. I don’t see how he can be depressed. He’s achieved too much in his life for depression to have played much part in it.

      1. @ Marella and others,

        “I don’t see how he can be depressed. He’s achieved too much in his life for depression to have played much part in it”

        ———-

        When I hear the word “depression” I don’t assume I know what it means, or that I have a sense of things just from the use of the word itself. And that is where the difficulty often arises.

        Like much human pain, depression is something we are eager to avoid, ignore, rush past, push aside. We want to get to the fix and the solution. Naturally; of course we do. We are in pain or experiencing some kind of loss. So we reach for a quick simple word, assume we know what it means, and then we are headed down the path of associations set up like marketing pens deposited in offices, a trail of breadcrumbs laid out to subtly push us in a certain direction of thought.

        We don’t do the difficult exploration of WHAT IS ACTUALLY GOING ON.

        Today the very human sense of self is a brand. We are trained to use language by our advertising saturated culture, and we are unconsciously manipulated by marketing strategies leading us quickly to ways of thinking, products, services, and prescriptions.

        The word “depression” is very often repeated in a “get-medical-treatment-your-brain-is-malfunctioning-get-on-medications” message environment. We think we can use the word and have it mean what we really might want it to mean. Often we can’t. We have to listen more deeply.

        So in the few times I asked some friends years ago, ‘What kind of depression do you have?’ And I then watch myself be surprised.

        I thought the person might be low energy: instead they describe a state of high stress.

        I wondered if they might be grieving or sad: instead they begin talking about intense bottled up rage.

        I associated the word with sadness: instead I hear a story of fear.

        I imagined they were isolated: instead they tell me about complicated relationship conflicts.

        By moving from the sound bite term to the person’s actual definition of what they mean, I begin, like a character in a 1950s film that suddenly goes from black and white to Technicolor, to see an actual human story before me, not a brand or a soundbite.

        And I am usually surprised. People tell extraordinary accounts of their lives that one would never anticipate from the word “depression.”

  3. Very interesting. 2 thoughts:

    1.) It occurred to me that some of the prominent gnu atheist critics would love Woody Allen’s gloomy take on atheism, which is properly pessimistic, nihilistic, and even suicidal about the implications of the ‘atheist world view.’ He’s like a walking poster child for religion, the need to believe in order to be happy.

    There’s just one moment near the end though that some humanism shines through, and the optimism isn’t “maybe I’m wrong and God exists and life has hope and meaning after all” — but “even if atheism’s true, so what? Don’t you want the experience?”

    2.) Some of the interviews were clearly from his excellent and lesser known You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger … and I remembered its cinematic example of the question in your previous post.

    ***Spoiler Alert ***

    Briefly, in You Will Meet a Tall Dark Stranger a woman is grieving a painful divorce. Her daughter, in an effort to bring her out of her depression, introduces her to a ‘psychic’ who proceeds to tell the middle-aged woman all sorts of wonderful things about her upcoming good fortune.

    The husband of the daughter is disgusted. In private he chides his wife. “We both know the psychic is a fake. Why did you do this?” “Because it works,” the daughter snaps. “Yes, it’s all nonsense. But she feels better and it hurts nobody.” So she panders and praises and encourages her mother to trust the fortune teller throughout the film. Her mother is so much easier to deal with now. Where’s the problem?

    Later, there is a plot twist and the daughter suddenly has the opportunity of a lifetime. She goes to her mother for a large but needed sum of money. The mother gently refuses, explaining that the lovely psychic has informed her that the stars say it’s the wrong time to start a new business. Maybe in 2 years.

    The daughter freaks out. She tries to explain to her mother that the psychic is fake, astrology is bunk, and she was lying when she praised the woman. But it’s too late. The mother can’t accept that any more. She’s now very, very happy and content, dedicating her life to New Age nonsense.

    And the daughter’s life crumbles.

    The Noble Lie came back to bite her.

    1. George Esres says something similar earlier in the comments.

      It’s very irritating to have a particular stereotype of atheism used time and time again – the miserable, cold nihilist atheist. And then if you’re not any of these things you’re a shallow atheist, and you’re not to be taken as seriously as proper, real atheists like Nietzsche, or Camus, or Eeyore, all of whom realised the true implications of atheism, which are that your life is worthless and if you claim otherwise you’re a hypocrite.

      In a sense Woody Allen plays into that stereotype. He’s seen as miserable, whiny, and unsatisfied, which, if you’re a proper atheist, is, of course, all right and proper(according to a certain Terry Eagleton-esque strain of thought I’m being a hypocrite right now as I haven’t done the logical thing and jumped in front of traffic).

      But, in spite of occasionally displaying those characteristics, he’s also ferociously intelligent, ridiculously funny(Sleeper is one of the most flat-out brilliant comedies I’ve ever seen, and I watch a lot of them), charismatic, honest, peculiarly attractive and artistically influential. So I don’t mind him coming up as a famous atheist.

      And his Complete Prose collection has some of the most sublime comic writing you will ever read.

      1. *Greg Esres, not George.

        Sorry George. I was thinking of George Ezra(that’s someone famous right?). My headbrain does bad fingerthoughts.

      2. I don’t think there is anything in atheism that could make you feel miserable, but maybe it’s true that atheists tend to be a bit more pessimistic.

        Moral nihilism can have an hedonistic effect in that it promotes to take your own opinions and opinions from others not too seriously. It lets you enjoy life without worrying so much. In that way nihilism can be a nice and positive addition to atheism. But it’s not for everyone.

        1. One could just as easily turn this around given an all powerful God. If our fate is out of our hands anyway, then who cares? I have in fact seen tinges of this sort of nihilism from many believers I know. This attitude isn’t necessarily bad (regardless of theistic beliefs) if it prevents one from taking things too seriously that don’t need to be taken seriously. I personally stop well short of applying this to situations that demonstrably make life less happy and/or miserable. The fact that there’s no eternal purpose doesn’t mean there aren’t purposes now.

          1. “I have in fact seen tinges of this sort of nihilism from many believers I know”

            Interesting, hadn’t thought of that.

            “I personally stop well short of applying this to situations that demonstrably make life less happy and/or miserable”

            Nihilism doesn’t promote anything, so it certainly doesn’t justify actions or rules that could make peoples life a misery. So I do in these situations exactly the same as you.

            “The fact that there’s no eternal purpose doesn’t mean there aren’t purposes now”

            I think it does. Does me remind of existentialists who where trying to convince us to make our own meaning and purpose. I don’t think it works.

          2. Some Protestant denominations, particularly Calvinism, subscribe to the doctrine of sola gratia, or “grace alone”, to be contrasted with “grace and works”. The idea is that nothing you do will affect whether you’re saved or not. It’s entirely up to god and it’s predestined.

          3. I would call it fatalism: we cannot escape our destiny. Nihilism doesn’t have a destination.

          4. I think my aim here is even simpler than what you are perceiving. Have you ever enjoyed a movie? If so, was the movie less enjoyable because it ends or would you prefer it play on eternally? If not a movie, surely there is some event you’ve enjoyed which has since terminated. During these times, why can’t the purpose be enjoying the moment? We needn’t have a destiny to live in the now.

  4. Could one become a secular Jew without being a Jew first? I agree with a lot of it and enjoy the culture. If I could convert would it involve my Mother?

    1. I converted to secular Judaism when I was 27, and Woody Allen was a big part of the reason why. Another reason was the unbelievably wonderful, activist Jewish women I met in college, and I wound up marrying one. The only part of Woody Allen’s philosophy with which I would quibble is the idea that “believing in lies” is somehow a fundamental part of being optimistic. There is also hope! One can have hope without being unrealistic about our outcomes. I always expect the worst, and sometimes I’m right, but if one can’t hope for the best then the motivation for trying anything new or risky is much harder to muster. Also, there is the idea of “good enough.” Sure, we’re all doomed, but this life can be good enough if one is accepting of reality; feeling that life is not good enough also verges on a kind of undealistic, wishful thinking: if this isn’t good enough, what’s the alternative? This is what it is. And finally, being “happy” is overrated. I am not as happy as more effective (or deluded) people seem to be, but what of it? I’m happy enough. Like Woody’s character says at the end of Hannah and her Sisters, reflecting on how he felt watching the Marx brothers at a revival house: these people seem to be having a good time, maybe life isn’t so bad. I dunno. Everyone’s mileage will vary on this, but for me, if I can muster that much joy, that’s a pretty good day.

      1. “There is also hope! One can have hope without being unrealistic about our outcomes… Sure, we’re all doomed.” There’s no way to be optimistic about this without being unrealistic. Woody Allen always looked at the bigger picture.

        Did you convert to secular Judaism from being a Jew? I’m not Jewish, which I’m thinking is a bit of an issue for me becoming a secular Jew.

      2. I agree, expect the worst and you’ll never be disappointed. To me, that’s optimism!

        Maybe I could qualify for a conversion to secular Judaism now? I was actually discussing this with some friends who are secular Jews and a family member of theirs who is going through the conversion process right now. I decided that seems like too much and wanted to know where I can get the express conversion.

  5. As far as I’m concerned and for whatever it may be worth (which may be nothing), Woody Allen nails it — and there’s nothing nihilistic about his perspective, if one pays attention to each point that he makes.

    1. It is nihilistic. Just compare that interview (the second clip) to Carl Sagan’s life-is-great atheism. Yes, I like a few of Allen’s movies but, boy, I would hate to hang out with this insufferable ass.

      1. He may feel the same way about insufferble gladasses! I know I do – candyasses are even worse! I put up with it in my kids, because they don’t know any better. But man if someone is all “life is awesome” at 40 or older, not that I don’t secretly envy them a little, I kind of wonder what’s up. Are they lying? Are they just saying what they think people want to hear? are they not paying attention to all the misty in the world? That seems kind of self-centered. Can I trust that this person won’t be judgy or pity me if I were to tell them what I really think?

        We neurotics can be very, very hard to live with but at the same time I know I am in very good company – and a certain amount of one’s creative drive is fueled by the recognition that things suck so bad my contribution is bound to be at least as good, and likely better, than what is out there at any given time.

        1. Oh, I have no doubt that Sagan had his dark days. But the problem with Allen is that pessimism is his default position.

          I agree with you that neuroticism and despair can fuel an artist. “Woodcutters” by Thomas Bernhard, one of the darkest writers of the 20th century, is great and often hilarious. But let me put it this way. Given the choice, I’d rather hang with John Updike than Samuel Beckett.

          Hey, Woody Allen has done a few good films, no question about it, but if I want a hilarious Jewish perspective/take on things, I’ll stick with Philip Roth! Now THERE’S a great artist for the ages. Woody Allen? Meh.

          1. I really couldn’t give a shit what someone says about their worldview as long as they’re being honest. I find it grates a little, just a little, hearing certain atheists talk about how disbelief is a necessarily positive thing, and leads to a happier life(I’m not criticising people who say it can be positive, and can lead to a perfectly happy life – I’m talking about those who imply it necessarily does).

            I can understand why they’re saying it, which is a. that it can be all those things(particularly if you were an unhappy believer beforehand), and b. to counteract exactly the ‘atheists are all suicidal nihilists’ narrative that’s so prevalent, but there can be a kind of bland, new-agey, gloopy super-optimism in the image they give of atheism, and particularly humanism.

            I don’t mind admitting that atheism, at least for me, requires certain sacrifices that are psychologically quite uncomfortable.

            I will not have many of the comforts that religion(at least apparently) brings with it. I don’t exult in the fact that I won’t see my mum and dad in an afterlife. I would really like to, especially considering how bad things have sometimes been between the three of us.

            And I’d like to believe that people I know who’ve had miserable lives, for no reason besides their genetic makeup and the laws of physics, will get some kind of recompense, that a perfect metaphysical judicial system awaits them once they die.

            And I can’t say that these sacrifices(not that they’re conscious sacrifices – I can’t choose to believe in god) are perfectly balanced against a set of positives I gain from my non-belief, so over-all I’m just as happy in my non-belief as I would be if I could believe. I think I am, but I don’t know.

            So I don’t begrudge any non-believer admitting, like Allen, that the meaninglessness of the universe frightens them, or makes them unhappy. It’s not a completely crazy response to the truth, although it’s obviously not complete.

            Nor is it irrational to focus on all the fabulous, joyous pursuits and people in the world, and the mind-opening elegance of science. Or the all-purpose precision-utility of a sceptical mindset – the reach and the unifying powers of applying scepticism to the world around you. The freedom from confused, dogmatic thinking and the freedom to build up an intellectual worldview without certain areas being off-limits.

            These are some of the things that I have that wouldn’t be there, or at least not to the same extent, if I wasn’t an atheist.

            But it isn’t necessarily easy. There are things that I might like to believe in, if I could. But I can’t, because they’re utterly ridiculous. There are gains and there are losses, for me anyway.

            Some atheists would like to believe in a god. I don’t think they’re idiots, or weak-willed. They’re being honest.

            The reason religion is so ubiquitous is because the things it offers are sometimes(if you don’t check the small print) very seductive. And the universe it describes is, at least from a liberally-religious perspective, friendlier and less frightening. Leaving that behind or rejecting it isn’t necessarily easy-peasy, and I’d rather someone was honest about how they feel, whether it’s positive or negative. That way the many, many wonderful things about non-belief speak for themselves.

      2. Not sure about Sagan’s life is great atheism. His Pale Blue Dot speech is the best case for nihilism I am aware of.

  6. The Fiddler on the Roof comes to mind. Allan’s roof is a knife edge between fatalism and acceptance of the small joys of life.
    I think his pessimism is a bit excessive and may be at the root of his great creative talent, but then he has led a full and interesting life.
    Personally I don’t let reality get me down. We are lucky to be alive. Might as well enjoy it. But seeking happiness is an illusion. There’s nothing about reality that says you’re supposed to be especially happy. I settle for contented.

  7. Allen employs nihilism-based hyperboles because existential dilemmas and stereotypes of atheism provide an endless reservoir for high-brow humor. It’s *exactly* because he never seeks solace in the consensus that makes his character studies so ironically refreshing and philosophically familiar.

    1. Woody always seems in character to me. I sensed a slight hint that his interviews were an extension of his art rather than his exact opinion. You want to take someone at their word on what they think of life, the universe and everything else, but maybe not all the time.

  8. My best friend from middle school “came out” when we were 16. He was on the cheer squad in college, and he is HIV positive. I don’t believe for a minute that his mind has anything to do with why he is still alive, except to the extent that it enables him to adhere to his prescribed treatment. I sometimes wonder if I were homosexual, given the way I was raised, if I would have had the nerve to be “out” way back when. I also doubt I would have the strength to go on as he has, with that terrible disease hanging over me. But you never know: he has a pretty rich life, he’s a successful choreographer, maybe people rise to their challenges as they present themselves. And perhaps my relatively conventional and unchallenged life is no measure of what I could do if I “had no other choice.” Woody’s work and his outlook – and the same goes for Larry David’s – resonate with my experience. I get why other people will see things differently, but for me, it’s realism not negativity.

    In the first season of True Detective, Woody Harrelson’s character tells Christopher McConnaughey’s (sp?) that he doesn’t have any regret over their failure to solve a case (or the fallout from that experience) when they worked together a decade prior. CM’s response is “That must be nice.” That’s kind of how I feel about not-negative people! That MUST be nice! But I yam what I yam!

  9. No one makes me laugh as much as Allen, OK, maybe Carlin.

    The charisma of these two NYC boys done good is based on revealing honestly their take on life. Carlin coolly observes it all from a distance while Allen is a scrappy fighter and gets into the ring and just keeps getting in the ring or until the kangaroo chases him out for the time being…

    Anyone who is creative in dealing with the realities life is no pessimist.

        1. That scene was genuinely mental. The way the kangaroo moved! Like a cross between a puppet and a man in a suit. Amazing. Why don’t they do more boxing? They’re obviously good at it. We could have kangaroo boxing leagues.

          But then someone would come along and say it was ‘cruel’ or ‘exploitative’. PC madness.

  10. I love Woody at the quip level. I’m usually not wild about his longer disquisitions (possibly because I tend to be in total agreement with him, and this is not one of those cases in which agreement leads to warmth); but a little bit of Allen now and then is immensely satisfying.

    I thoroughly enjoyed the vid!

    I disagree with those here who are essentially saying that he’s doing atheism rong. There’s really no right way to do it–it’s just a conclusion about the universe, not a uniform personality trait.

  11. Why does life have to have meaning? Anyone who thinks a Marx Brothers has meaning is watching it rong. Which is why people who study them to reproduce them fail.
    Is a flower somehow not beautiful because it’s going to fade?

  12. I don’t get the existential angst.

    Why does something have to be permanent to “matter”?

    The noodles and garlic I just finished eating for dinner doesn’t exist any more and never will again. Yet I greatly enjoyed it while it lasted. The same can be said for every good meal, every live performance, every act of personal tenderness, every sports game…basically, everything any humans ever do that have even the slightest bit of meaning to us.

    Is it so surprising that we ourselves are as fleeting as that which we love so dearly? And how does our own mortality diminish our own worth any more than the curtain does the play it comes down on?

    b&

    1. @ Ben

      “I don’t get the existential angst”

      —–

      For starters:

      Consider pleasures and pains. Most lives contain both, to varying degrees, but there is an unfortunate asymmetry between these that seems to apply to even the best of lives. The upshot of this is that there is much more pain than pleasure. For example, while the most intense pleasures, such as sexual or gustatory ones, are short-lived, the worst pains have the capacity to be much more enduring. Indeed, pleasures in general tend to be shorter-lived than pains. Chronic pain is common, whereas there is no such thing as chronic pleasure. Moreover, the worst pains seem to be worse than the best pleasures are good. Anybody who doubts this should consider what choice they would make if they were offered the option of securing an hour of the most sublime pleasures possible in exchange for suffering an hour of the worst pain possible. Almost everybody would put much more emphasis on the avoidance of this pain, even if it entailed the forfeiture of the pleasure. This is not to say that people are unwilling to endure some lesser pains for some greater pleasures. Instead it shows only that the best pleasures do not offset the worst pains, at least of comparable duration.

      This asymmetry applies not only to pleasures and pains but also to goods and bads more generally. Consider how an injury can be incurred in a split second and the effects felt for life. While it is true that we can also avoid an injury in an instant, we do not gain benefits that are comparable in their magnitude and longevity in a mere moment. A lifetime of learning can be obliterated by a cerebral stroke, but there are no comparable events in which one acquires as much knowledge and understanding so speedily and easily. One can lose a limb or an eye in a few seconds, whereas gaining mobility or sight, where it is possible at all, never occurs so rapidly, effortlessly or completely. A life in which benefit came quickly and effortlessly, and harm came only slowly and with effort, would be a fantastically better life.

      Next, consider the fulfilment of our desires or the satisfaction of our preferences. There are various reasons why there is more unfulfilment than fulfilment. First, many desires are never fulfilled. Second, even when desires are fulfilled, this usually occurs only after the exercise of effort. This means that there is a period of time in which the desire is not yet fulfilled. Finally, when desires are eventually fulfilled, the satisfaction is typically only transitory. Satisfied desires give way to new desires. (For example, one is hungry, eats to satiety, but then becomes hungry again.) Thus a relatively small proportion of life is spent satisfied.

      On some views the good life is constituted not only of pleasure and fulfilled desires, but also of certain purportedly objective goods such as knowledge, understanding, aesthetic appreciation and virtue. It is noteworthy, however, that as advanced as some of these may be in some humans, they are only a fraction of what they could, in principle, be. Human knowledge and understanding are infinitesimal. What we do know and understand is only a tiny fraction of everything that there is to know and understand. Thus there is a much greater difference between what we know and what there is to be known, than there is between what we know and knowing nothing. In other words, on the vast spectrum from knowing nothing to knowing everything, we fall very close to the ignorance pole. Similar things might be said about aesthetic appreciation. The range of colours, sounds and smells we can perceive is limited and thus as rich as our aesthetic appreciation may seem to us, it is grossly retarded. As for virtue, it should be clear that humans are not angels. Even the morally best humans could be so much better.

      People tend to forget how much of their lives are spent tired, hungry, thirsty, in pain and being either too hot or too cold or in need of voiding their bladders and bowels. The same is true of how much time people spend bored, stressed, anxious, fearful, frustrated, irritated, sad, and lonely, to name but a few examples. Also unnoticed is how bad the worst parts of a life are. They often, but not always, come later in life, but the life as a whole cannot be evaluated without considering them. Moreover, we spend a very short period of time in our prime. Most of a person’s life, for those who live to old age, is spent in steady decline. Those who think that longer lives are better, all things being equal, must recognize that a lifespan of about eighty years, including periods of frailty, is terrible in comparison with a life of youthful vigour that lasts several hundred or thousand years. Our lives are much worse relative to that standard than are the lives of those who die young relative to the current standard of human longevity.

      Cheery people – those who think that life is, or at least, can be good – invariably attempt to reconcile the many bad things in life with the possibility of a good life. That is to say, they offer what might be called a “secular theodicy”. But, like conventional theodicies, which attempt to reconcile the vast amount of evil in the world with God’s existence, the secular theodicy of optimists puts the conclusion before the evidence.

      Sometimes the optimists say that the bad things in life are necessary to appreciate the good things. It is unclear whether everybody suffers from this malady. Are there not some people who would be able to appreciate the good even if there were no bad? Perhaps they are a minority. In any event, it is also not clear why those who do need to experience bad in order to appreciate the good need to experience quite so much bad. And if we were to assume that all the bad in a life is necessary in order to appreciate the good, that itself would be another very bad feature of life. It would be much better if all those bad things were not necessary.

        1. @ Diane G.

          Thanks.

          Just to be clear:

          I was not making pronouncements on the value of any particular person’s life, but that generally life is OVERVALUED, due to our obvious and inevitable biases… We need to step outside those biases and consider other positions.

          And what I really hate is the watery-eyed universalism that values human life intrinsically and sees only spiritual significance in its travails (which are given as part of a narrative for them, as “trials” rather than “mishaps”).

          The West is still fundamentally Christian, so much so that it balks at the rest of the worlds’ traditions.

          1. I’m nowhere near as eloquent, Nicholas, but I certainly agree.

            As one of 7.2 billion I tend to regard life as cheap and ephemeral…and somehow find that comforting.

            What’s really depressing is how many of our species go out of their way to make everyone’s brief time here as miserable as possible. (And right now the religious tradition most guilty of that is not western…But I appreciate your overall point, and don’t mean to derail it.)

          2. I know good people are out there. Is like to think I’m one of them.

            But gosh darn it if I do to find it increasingly difficult, as I grow older, to give people the benefit of the doubt.

            My cynicism is through the roof, maybe bordering on misanthropic.

            I am only 15% kidding.

          3. I hear ya.

            When I first became a parent, I couldn’t believe why anyone who’d had that experience wouldn’t just immediately understand that we’re all in this together and the most important thing for us to do is to leave the best-possible world for our kids. I thought, Reagan & Gorbachev are fathers–why aren’t they finding that common ground and knocking off all the silly stuff?

            Of course I knew that was terribly naive, but there it was.

            My next thought was how can I protect my kids while they’re young from my own withering cynicism?

            (Turned out that, for a while, they protected me from it.)

            Now they’re reasonably cynical adults. One has to be, I think, but it gets so tiring.

          4. Of course life is valuable, particularly to the person living it. How can we overvalue it? It’s the only one we’ve got. From a personal point of view, how can anything else matter more?

            This is why a person’s life is far more important to me as an atheist than to some religioso who thinks there’s an afterlife.

      1. The fact is we’re basically just biological machines propagating our genes, and to make us avoid or seek certain certain situations, we’re “programmed” with an alarm and reward system. For humans, this current balance of pain and pleasure seems to be where the indifferent forces of evolution have calibrated it. Apparently, any lesser amount of pain wouldn’t have been an incentive enough to keep our ancestors from avoiding harm, and no more pleasure was needed to seek certain life-sustaining activities.

        Actually, even the will to live and the fear of death must be only instincts programmed into our brains by evolution. Given the cruel asymmetry of pain and pleasure in our lives, it has always been a puzzle for me why more, even most people don’t commit suicide as soon as possible. Apparently these life-sustaining instincts are immensely powerful, since we’re still here even though a reasonable calculation would end up so far below zero.

        1. ” it has always been a puzzle for me why more, even most people don’t commit suicide as soon as possible”

          Although nihilism may be true, almost no one acts as such. So I think, it’s save to say that we are not nihilistic machines.

          Apparently we are survival machines. The brain produces emotions and stories for us to keep on going despite the setbacks we may encounter in life. I see no puzzle there.

          1. Emotions and stories. Isn’t that exactly what the attraction of religion is to most theists? And if atheism is supposed to substitute the religious emotions and stories with light entertainment as Woody Allen seems to hint here, I can’t blame the theists for finding atheism vacuous. (Not that WA is vacuous, he’s actually a true genius). But in fact, the only way to overcome religion is to replace its cheap and easily accessed “profound” content with free and widely available education allowing access to actual profundities.

            What I meant by being puzzled is this: its 2015 and I live in a fairly wealthy and healthy environment. And yet I have to struggle to find reasons to keep passing the open windows (mostly the reasons are parenthood and other responsibilities and perhaps certain curiosity about scientific discoveries). It honestly puzzles me how people have managed to keep going in the poor countries, throughout the misery and horror that is human history. Can the survival instinct really be that strong despite all the pain of existence?

            The Urbach–Wiethe disease destroys the amygdala and and affects its victims so that they experience no fear. If this condition became more common and extend to the abstract fear of dying, would that erode our survival instinct and make the suicide rates skyrocket? I would say yes. We mostly keep breathing because of our fear of pain and non-existence.

          2. Well, people stop themselves from suicide for the same reasons you and I do. Friends, lovers, art, sport, etc.. And it sounds like you’re generalising your own unhappiness to the rest of the populace. Certain people are unfortunately less happy overall than others.

            Like I said in an earlier post, I don’t think there’s any reason to pretend that atheism is going to help with that(unless you’re unhappy for religious reasons). Atheism involves confronting certain facts that are not comforting. To some people they are yawningly terrifying. It’s dishonest to pretend otherwise. Atheism has its own benefits of course but it’s not like swapping coats. It’s more like getting rid of your coat altogether.

            As for why people in poorer countries aren’t similarly ‘happiness-poor’ – I believe there’s a lot of evidence that the average level of happiness remains constant across societies. Even with people who’ve experienced the most horrendous personal tragedies, tragedies that sometimes inhibit them for life, their self-reported happiness levels nevertheless return to normal after a certain, relatively short, period. Recent news images of barefoot kids deliriously playing in the wreckage of a hurricane, whilst corpses lie decaying around them, come to mind.

            Re. your last question – if this condition became more common the fear of suicide would presumably diminish, but so too would fear in general, which is a major component of depressive thinking in the first place. The most consistently fearless people seem to be those who exhibit psychopathic tendencies – they suffer far less anxiety, are generally more confident, and the majority, who are on the borderline, are successful and happy.

        2. Re: Coldthinker

          It also puzzles me.

          I’ve been pretty darn lucky in life. I’ve had good parents, was raised well, was lucky enough to be born into the most wealthy and powerful nation on earth…and yet, it seems to me that my life has had significantly more pain and disappointment than happiness.

          Although some small percentage of human beings may live truly charmed lives — living their hopes and dreams — human life, for most of us, is really quite dreadful on the whole, containing far more pain, disappointment and suffering than joy. We have all kinds of ways of rationalizing our lives to ourselves: ways of trying to convince ourselves that our lives are pretty good. But again, when I am honest with myself, all of the apologies for life really do ring hollow to me.

          The problem with suicide is the sheer lack of grace and dignity available to the person who wishes it. No one asked to be here, and to have to perform a brutal physical assault on yourself to liberate yourself is surely one of life’s most disgusting and damning paradoxes.

          1. Existing is fundamentally temporal, contingent, fortuitous and gratuitous.

            Therein lies the absurdity of existence and of life in general; the absolute un-reason for it all, the dearth of the Principle of Sufficient Reason.

      2. People tend to forget how much of their lives are spent tired, hungry, thirsty, in pain and being either too hot or too cold or in need of voiding their bladders and bowels.
        I think you refuted your whole argument right there. The bad shit is endured while it lasts then is forgotten. Unless of course you’ve got some kind of pathological condition that makes you dwell on it then the best you can do is make art by joking about it.

      3. I’m not at all trying to claim that there aren’t downsides, let alone that everything is fantastic. Or even, for that matter, how much the good outweighs the bad.

        Indeed, all that is tangential to what I understood is the discussion.

        My confusion is with those who think that the impermanence of existence robs it of meaning.

        To flip it around…if the fact that the wonderful dinner I ate last night is, entirely literally, shit this morning somehow makes it futile, doesn’t that also mean that the agony I experienced in physical therapy some years back might as well not have happened?

        It’s this assumption that only the eternal can have significance that just doesn’t make sense to me. The eternal is boring; nothing ever changing, always the same day in and day out for trillions of years — and you still haven’t even gotten started. How can that possibly mean anything?

        Of course we all want more of the good stuff. But infinitely more? What would a decade-long orgasm even mean, let alone a never-ending one?

        Cheers,

        b&

        1. I would turn it around in a different way. I have never understood why the existence of God adds one iota of “meaning” to life. As long as you don’t stop to think how ridiculous the notion of heavenly paradise is or how depressing the idea that we are merely living life in order to please the Ulitimate Totalitarian is, then you can avoid the realization that being a pawn in God’s cosmic loony bin doesn’t make life more meaningful, but much less so.

      4. I think you’re arguing at cross-purposes with Ben.

        He’s not addressing the issue of whether life, on balance, good or bad. He’s addressing the theistic claim that nothing can have a purpose (or meaning, whatever they mean by that) unless it is eternal and god-granted. Which is nonsense.

  13. That was brilliant. The message of great importance to so many people is to consider all of the worthless annoyance that people burden themselves with due to some obscure neighbor who might annoying and think, in one hundred years, no one will care at all.

    Time, as a great cycle, is the raveger of all. This is the greatest advantage to avoid unnecessary stress. To not worry about all of the religious strife and ignorance. Of course, do, as an artist would, make your life better and hope that that makes others better. One can do no less and still be great.

  14. I have as much reason to look to woody allen for philosophy as I do to look to Jerry Sandusky for football knowledge.

    There are better sources which aren’t tainted by their actions and choices.

  15. The more vulgar of us in the UK call the bathroom or restroom, not a lavatory, not even a toilet, but a bog. “Sorry, tell me the rest later, I must go to the bog”.

    From the Polish subtitles in one of the clips, I see that Bog is the Polish for God.

  16. After having considered what the existence of an Abrahamic God would mean for humanity I think it is a blessed relief to think it likely that God is a failed hypothesis as Victor J. Stenger wrote.

    I agree with Ben Goren, “And how does our own mortality diminish our own worth ?” To me if you wake up then the rest of the day is about how you can make the best of it, filling your day with things you enjoy, things you find interesting.

    Trusting reasonable doubt about religion (as Valerie Tarico wrote about)is like having a mountain of worries removed from ones brain and seeing it thrown into a sea of forgetfulness. However given what we know from science, the errors in religion actually amuse me. My thought life improved dramatically when I got broadband and read all the skeptic websites and Youtube videos, WEIT and other such books etc.

    The way of unbelief in fantasy and belief in fact is broader and easier and it would be foolish not to travel it if there was in fact no downside.

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