Luhrmann soft-pedals religion again in the NYT: this time it’s demons

January 2, 2014 • 7:01 am

I remain mystified why The New York Times continues to use Tanya Luhrmann, an anthropologist at Stanford University, as a regular op-ed columnist. Although she may not be a believer, when she writes about religion she is devoted to explaining why faith is good or useful.  When she says anything else, it’s mundane.  But one thing she rarely does is to point out the dangers of faith.

There’s a small exception to this in her December 28 column, “When demons are real,” about African Pentecostal Christians’ belief in demons, but the bad stuff is outweighed by her explanation of why those beliefs are useful psychological tools.

Her subject is Ghana, the world’s most religious country (the Christian Science Monitor reports a poll showing that the percentage of nonbelievers is zero), with 70% of the inhabitants Christian and the rest of other faiths.  Luhrmann attended one of the many all-night “revivals”  in Accra, much of which involved excoriating demons, which those in attendance consider real. (Luhmann adds the frightening statistic that 57% of Americans also believe in demons.)

(By the way, if one included sub-Saharan African countries like Ghana in the worldwide positive correlation between religiosity and social dysfunctionality, the correlation would be even more striking, for sub-Saharan countries are both highly religious and highly dysfunctional.)

Luhrmann’s title should have been “When demons seem real,” but of course she doesn’t want to judge them as illusory. She is, after all, an anthropologist, and it’s presumably not kosher to pass judgment on such things. And besides, belief in demons serves a useful purpose (Luhrmann’s metier is always to point out the utility of faith).

J. Kwabena Asamoah-Gyadu, a professor at Trinity Theological Seminary in Legon, Ghana, argues that these churches have spread so rapidly because African traditional religion envisions a world dense with dark spirits from which people must protect themselves, and these new churches take this evil seriously in a way that many earlier missionizing Christianities did not. Indeed, I have been at a Christian service in Accra with thousands of people shouting: “The witches will die! They will die! Die! Die!” With the pastor roaring, “This is a war zone!”

Most of us know what this “demonizing” has resulted in: horrible killings, expulsion of children from homes, and so on, but Luhrmann barely mentions this. All she says is this:

But it is also true that an external agent gives you something — and often, someone — to identify as nonhuman. In West Africa, witches are people, and sometimes, other people kill them or drive them from their homes.

Yes, “sometimes” other people kill them or drive them from their homes. “Sometimes.” This is about as much of a downside as Lurhmann can muster (the other downsides of African Pentecostal Christianity include helping spread HIV and AIDS by urging the afflicted to go off their drugs, for God will cure them, and, in the past, encouraging the genocide in Rwanda).

Luhrmann goes on, helpfully, to tell us how demons can be useful even if we don’t believe that they’re real. The following lame discussion is unworthy of an undergraduate paper, much less a column by a professional anthropologist.

. . . One way to think about demons (if you happen not to believe in supernatural evil) is that they are a way of representing human hatred, rage and failure — the stuff we all set out to exorcize in our New Year’s resolutions. The anthropologist Gananath Obeyesekere, who grew up in Sri Lanka, got a Ph.D. from the University of Washington and, eventually, a job at Princeton, once remarked that all humans deal with demons. (He was quoting Dostoyevsky’s “Brothers Karamazov” — “In every man, of course, a demon lies hidden.”) The only question, he said, was whether the demons were located in the mind, where Freud placed them, or in the world. It is possible that identifying your envy as external and alien makes it easier to quell.

Do Luhrmann or Obeyeskere really think that the presence of real demons in the world is a viable question?

Finally, after downplaying the hundreds of murders and child expulsions done under a false belief in demons, Luhrmann raises what she sees as the really serious problems of such belief:

In an April poll conducted by Public Policy Polling, over one in 10 Americans were confident that Barack Obama was the Antichrist — and the Antichrist is, as it happens, associated with war in the Middle East. If those people think that demons are real, they don’t mean that Obama is misguided, confused or mistaken. They mean that he is real, inhuman evil.

That is a terrifying thought.

If those people think that demons are real.  We don’t know that, but Luhrmann makes the assumption. But I seriously doubt that more than 10% of American think that Obama is “inhuman.” This is simply a lame segue between African demons and the President, a way to say something when you have nothing to say.

But at last we have an editorial comment by anthropologist Luhrmann! How terrifying it is that 10% of American think that Obama is the Antichrist! If the murder of large groups of Africans is as terrifying as Obama’s demonization, Luhrmann doesn’t tell us; she says onl that y “sometimes, other people kill them or drive them from their homes”

This is writing and thinking at its most mundane.  Luhrmann’s analysis is superficial and her writing wooden. There is nothing in her piece that makes you think, and that’s because she really has nothing to say.

Why on earth does the New York Times pay her to churn out stuff like this? And why, if she’s an objective anthropologist who does not judge the social phenomena she observes, why does she pronounce the demonization of Obama “terrifying” but says nothing about the genuine harm that comes to demonized Africans? Does her moral relativism begin only at the U.S. border?

The commenters on Lurhmann’s piece are in fact much savvier than she is. Many of them point out the connection between poverty and superstition; even more note that demon-belief is one of the great evils of modern religion.

Here are three such comments:

  • mirele, Mesa, AZ
 It’s hard for me to take this op-ed seriously when Ms. Lurhman [sic] barely mentions how “witches are people” and yet fails to acknowledge that there is a serious problem with children being called witches, forced out of their families and communities and sometimes even killed. This is not a small problem. BBC 3 broadcast a documentary last May called “Branded a Witch” and noted there are thousands of children kicked out of their homes because they were labeled a witch by these religious deliverance specialists. And it’s spreading into the United Kingdom and the USA. Witchfinder General Helen Ukpabio of Nigeria was supposed to spread her gospel of rooting out the witches in Houston in early 2012, but there was some controversy and no idea whether she actually made it there. But this stuff is HERE and children are suffering. Why did you not mention it, Ms. Luhrman?
  • GAM, Denton, MD

I wish we could focus more on the sources of fear and desperation that empower such hate-creating, demonizing religion. Even discussing demons and evangelical tribalism in isolation, as this article does, only further empowers it by adding to our irrational fear …fear of the irrational. If you want to draw attention to hate-mongering religiosity, then please mention (at least) the societal conditions that drive people to demonize each other as an act of survival: ideological politics; a growing awareness of inequality through global connectedness; dwindling resources for an ever-increasing population; etc.

Organized religion can be a source of community and comfort, but can also provide justification for the oldest solution to society’s problems: tribal warfare. To evoke the emotional fear without also evoking the rational mind only makes the situation worse.

And the best one:

  • Quodlibet, CT

Luhrmann’s religious/superstitious bias makes it impossible for her to be objective. For example, when she says: “People say that the boundary between the supernatural and the natural is thinner there”, she *assumes* that there exists a supernatural, and that its qualities can be measured and debated.

Is this the sort of medieval thinking that the NYT wants to promote?

All religious beliefs and behaviors are based on irrational superstition, despite Luhrmann’s efforts to convince us otherwise.

She rationalizes the beliefs or behaviors she encounters in order (it seems) to minimize their ridiculousness and align them more closely with Western Christian sensibilities. But when we lend credence to irrational beliefs, we also endorse the irrational behaviors they engender, and some of these are destructive. Is it OK to believe in demons? Sure, pray all night if you want. OK to believe in witches? No, because some people kill “witches,” even children. OK to believe in the word of an infallible god? OK, because the god says “thou shalt not kill,” OK to believe in an infallible god? No, because the god says “stone your child if he curses you.” Who decides what is OK or not OK? Luhrmann?

Why has this series of essays–most of which offer broad conclusions drawn only from anecdotal observations–continued? Even as opinion pieces, this series is not worthy of the NYT and its readers. Discuss religion? Yes, and with vigor! But surely we can do so with more depth and substance.

The New York Times counters its liberal columnists (Paul Krugman, Maureen Dowd) with conservative ones (Ross Douthat). Why doesn’t it offer a humanistic palliative to Tanya Luhrmann? For, in the end, Lurhmann’s puerile lucubrations serve only to perpetuate and justify the superstitions that keep the world divided and ridden with inequality.

_______

Addendum: From the Oxford English Dictionary (which contains no entry for “soft peddle”:

Screen shot 2014-01-02 at 10.15.38 AM

Readers’ cats: Sunny goes to bed

January 2, 2014 • 5:33 am
Reader Brian sent two pictures of his girlfriend’s Maine Coon cat, which found an appropriate place to sleep.
First look at the pictures, which are a bit misleading (click to enlarge.)
photo
photo 2
The explanation:
The background here: my girlfriend had a 1944 dollhouse that she grew up with, and acquired bits of ‘furniture’ to make the experience more real. We were just down at her mom’s place for the holidays and, feeling nostalgic, she set up the bedroom. Her cat, Sunny, being the quirky thing that she is, finds new things interesting and manifests this curiosity by lying on them. These pics capture that moment: a small doll house bedroom with a gigantic Maine Coon, head resting on the pillow and everything. The first pic caught her getting comfortable, with her tongue just sticking out of her mouth.

The “No true Christian” fallacy

January 2, 2014 • 4:24 am

Some Christian tried to make this comment on Mark Joseph’s post below, invoking a religious version of the “No true Scotsman” fallacy:

Frankie o keeffe commented on Guest post: A reader’s deconversion story

Its impossible for a true born again Christian to lose their faith..Jesus said you are in my hand and I am in the Fathers hand NO-ONE CAN TAKE THEM FROM MY FATHERS HAND…so what can a Christian observer say about Marks loss of faith Im afraid he never had one according to Jesus words.Ive heard atheists say exactly the same thing when some of their adherents leave atheism and become a Christian THEY WERE NEVER REAL ATHEISTS..but the difference is our assurance is from God yours is from a human perspective…of course Im sad that Mark no longer believes and if the people in his church didnt treat him with Christian love then Id question their true conversion.

Obviously, nobody in this story is a “true Christian.” I wonder if “Frankie O’Keefe” (I will reveal that this person is from England) would even recognize the problem with his/her argument.

Her argument comes from John 10:26-29. I didn’t realize that once you accepted Jesus as your savior, there was no way you could renounce that.

Guest post: A reader’s deconversion story

January 2, 2014 • 2:46 am

One of our readers, Mark Joseph, mentioned in an earlier comment that he used to be a missionary. A simple query by me led to his producing a small essay about how and why he abandoned Christianity.  I thought that putting this up was a good way to begin the new year.

Two notes: this gives the lie to the claim that atheists are unsophisticated about religion, which ignores the fact that many of us used to be believers. And it also shows that some of us who gave up our belief in God easily—like me—have no idea how wrenching it is to abandon deep-seated and lifelong religious convictions.

Mark also sent an introduction, and then divides his narrative into “before,” “during,” and “after” his deconversion. Without further ado.

***

In her horrifying memoir of anorexia, Wasted, Marya Hornbacher stated: “I wrote this book because I believe some people will recognize themselves in it…I would do anything to keep people from going where I went. This book was the only thing I could think of.”

Change the word “book” to “essay” or “post” and you have my own reason for writing this, and agreeing to have it published on the internet, despite the fact that I realize there might be some considerable negative reaction, especially given the potential for wide circulation of the essay and the fact that up to now I have told this story to only one other person. I would like to thank Jerry Coyne for his interest in having this brief memoir published on his website, and look forward eagerly to his forthcoming book on the emptiness of theology.

WHY I AM NO LONGER A CHRISTIAN

by Mark Joseph

Before:

I became a Christian at age 18. My best friend, a recent convert, told me about Christianity, and a short time later I accepted Christ as my personal savior. My main motive was to live forever, and the decision was eased by two still-childish aspects of my personality at that time: a desire to please, and an inability to think critically or to ask questions.

As I was always an excellent student, I went on to seminary (I hold an M. Div. from an evangelical seminary) and became a Bible teacher. I was married young, and my wife and I were missionaries from 1985-1999 in Haiti and the Czech Republic. In both countries I taught in the Bible school and seminary, and wrote textbooks (Bible commentaries and books of systematic theology). I read great gobs of young-earth-creationist and intelligent-design literature, and ignorantly spouted it: in one of my textbooks, I started the section on the “doctrine of man” with a four-page dismissal of evolution so misinformed that it would make even Ken Ham cringe.

On our furloughs I taught at our home church. Strange as it might sound, my role in the church was pretty much that of oracle, as I knew the Bible and theology better than anyone else (not excepting the pastor), and was greatly loved as a teacher. Even now, after 15 years of apostasy, it would be a trivial exercise for me to find a hundred people who would declare unhesitatingly that I was the best teacher they ever heard.

My entire life was wrapped up in Christianity. We were always at church, most of my reading was the Bible, Christian books, and mission magazines, I preached when and where I could, I prayed regularly, I loved and tried to please God, raised my children to be Christians, and was never unhappy or doubtful about any of this.

I know this all sounds a bit too self-aggrandizing, but it’s crucial to understanding the force of my moment of deconversion that at the time I was following Christianity not merely as a sort of lifestyle, or because it was associated with a particular political position, or because I was using it to get ahead in the world, or as a social group to which I could belong, and certainly not because I was born into it (I was raised in a Jewish home), or for any of the other reasons some people are religious in general and Christians in particular. I was following Christianity because I believed it was true, and trying to find out and know what is true has always been important to me.

During:

We were missionaries in Haiti from 1985-1992, and then in Prague from 1993-1999. In Prague, we lived in a panelak, one of the immense blocks of apartments built by the Communists. In the summer in Europe, many people leave their homes to go on vacation, which makes the panelak both warm and very quiet. I don’t remember the exact day, but I was sitting on the couch in our apartment (I was the only one home) and praying, and in a completely unexpected manner the thought crossed my mind, “there’s nothing happening here.” That was the exact moment; it was like a light had been turned off. I’m guessing that I’m the only Christian ever who lost his faith while praying on the mission field! And this is the important part: this happened solely because of God’s non-responsiveness to my seeking and serving him, which I was doing because I believed he was real, and because I believed that the Bible was true, before all the psychological catastrophes and educational experiences described in the next section.

After:

Of course, that moment was only the beginning of the process. The following year we returned permanently to the States (in the second of the three times in rapid succession that I was vocationally abused by a Christian organization, our home church cut off our support). During the next three or four years I made every effort to retain my faith (always by myself; the church is not a safe place to voice doubts or ask questions), continuing to read, teach, pray and seek God. To say that God never responded in any way would be a pathetic understatement. Of course, I now understand that the reason is that religion is not true, God does not exist, and religious experience is merely a  psychological phenomenon. Finally, around 2002 I realized that not only did I no longer believe in God, but that I was not going to make any further effort to do so.

I could probably stop there, but the most interesting part is what has happened since.

The catalogue of my efforts to know God after the moment of deconversion, and his non response, would be tedious. However, the nature of the situation was becoming steadily clearer to me as I sought him futilely. Since God never once expressed any sort of love, or any other response to me, despite my most honest and intense longing and searching, I therefore ended up thinking that God had really acted toward me like a will-o’-the-wisp, leading me onward through a swamp and finally disappearing with a derisive laugh and leaving me to sink into the mire.

And if you think that is a hard situation, the next one is absolutely brutal. In 2003, our younger daughter developed anorexia and nearly died (yes, of course my apostasy was blamed for it). After she had been in therapy for a while and was starting to get better, I was driving her home from the clinic, and she expressed a longing for a fruit and yogurt parfait  from McDonalds. At that time, if she had expressed a desire for the most expensive dish at the most expensive restaurant in Los Angeles, I would have bought it for her without a second’s hesitation. So I pulled into the McDonalds—and they were out of fruit and yogurt parfaits. Needless to say, she didn’t want anything else.

That was quite literally the last straw—if God didn’t care enough about me to arrange for one of the world’s largest corporations to have a regularly-stocked item available when my daughter needed it (surely one of the easiest things for omnipotence to ensure; I wasn’t exactly asking for a miracle), then it was as obvious as the sun in the sky that He either didn’t exist, or didn’t care about me. At that point I had been leaving God for about five years, slowly and painfully, and he had never indicated in any way whatsoever that he cared whether or not I came back. Since that moment, there has been no question in my mind of returning to him. Or, as the wag once put it, “if this is the way God treats his friends, it’s no wonder he has so few.”

In 2004, while working the dead-end full-time office job that I still have, I went back to school and earned a masters degree in mathematics, and since 2008 I’ve been teaching part-time at a university. Besides the math, I started to give myself a good (and ongoing) scientific education, starting with science in general (Sagan’s The Demon-Haunted World) and then working through physics, astronomy and  cosmology, brushing up on my chemistry (my bachelors degree from UCLA  was in chemistry), and finally on to biology and evolution. Meanwhile, I’ve also read a many books concerned with reason, logic, philosophy and religion, and I no longer opine on subjects about which I  know nothing. I am resolutely and irrevocably non-religious, and will remain an atheist until someone provides convincing evidence for the existence of some God.

Since I’ve already babbled on this long, I’ll go ahead and answer the first two questions that will be asked.

From non-believers: “Doesn’t this cause tension with your wife?”

Yes, it does. But for a number of reasons, we have lapsed into a not-uncomfortable situation of “don’t ask, don’t tell.” She pretends not to notice all the e-mails I get in which the “from” line is “Why Evolution is True” as well as all the books about atheism and evolution on my bookshelves; I never mention the Christian books on her shelves, or the music for the songs she’s teaching to the children at church. On Sunday mornings she goes to church; I stay home and read—mostly science and books criticizing religion. Imagine that—allowing other people to make their own choices in life! Otherwise, though, we still love and care about each other a lot, and work hard together to make something of life. When we returned to the States we owned nearly nothing, and economic survival was our top priority for the next decade or so. And, she truly is a wonderful human being.

From believers: “Are you angry/sad/afraid?”

Yes, I am angry. Angry at having wasted potentially the most productive period of life. Angry at having missed much of what life offers. Angry at having done what was unnecessary at best; destructive at worst, while much that is good went undone. Angry at having one’s every idea, thought and even statement repressed. Angry at being looked at as roadkill, as ignorant, or as despicable by people whom I thought to be friends. Angry at having been lied to and misled for so long. Angry at having “made a pilgrimage to save this human race, never comprehending a race that’s long gone by.”

However, anger is counterproductive, and kind of silly when one considers that no one forced me to become religious. As a result, I don’t express that anger toward others, but it ends up getting internalized as depression. Fortunately, I’m getting better and better at dealing with depression, and my sense of humor has never deserted me.

Afraid? Not a chance. What would I be afraid of? God? Doesn’t exist. Demons? Don’t exist. Hell? Doesn’t exist. As Robert Charles Wilson put it, “I understand so very little. But I am not afraid to look: I am a good observer at last. My eyes are open, and I am not afraid.”

Thursday: Hili dialogue and bonus note on “Meow” in Polish

January 2, 2014 • 1:17 am

Today’s Hili Dialogue comes with a language lesson (below):

Hili: Let’s look at the problem from another perspective.
A: What problem?
Hili: It doesn’t matter what problem, what matters is from which perspective we are looking at it.
1505269_10202443630719386_955642750_n
Hili: Spójrzmy na ten problem z innej strony.
Ja: Na jaki problem?
Hili: Nie ważne na jaki problem, ważne z której strony patrzymy.

***

BONUS:

Everyone (well, one reader) wants to know how to say “meow” in Polish. The answer is that it varies. Unlike in English, the name for the sound itself and the verb for making it are not identical.  So here, courtesy of Malgorzata, are the answers:

The sound itself: miau.  This is what you would see in a Polish comic coming out of the mouth of a cat (illustration at bottom). Note that this sound is almost universal worldwide except in Japanese, where cats say “nyan.” LOL!

The verb (infinitive): miauczeć

Present tense: he/she miauczy

Past tense: he miauczał; she miauczała

(Note that in the past tense, but not the present, the verb differs by sex.)

The noun: miauczenie

A sentence. “Hili meowed for me” = “Hili zamiauczała dla mnie.” (The “za” in front of the verb indicates that the meowing was a single incident rather than a continuous sound. Without the “za,” it would mean that Hili is continuing to meow.)

babyhilisaysmiau
Fig. 1. Linguistically correct depiction of Polish cat (Hili as kitten)

Readers’ wildlife photos: a red-tailed hawk hunts pigeons in Providence

January 1, 2014 • 10:57 am

In one hour I’ll reveal the location of the nightjar, so do your looking now.

Reader Peter Green lives in Providence, Rhode Island and is an accomplished photographer of wildlife; you can see his photos at Providence Raptors.  But he has an unusual speciality: as he notes “My focus is urban raptors. . . I spot them all over Providence while most others just walk right by (see photo attached).”

Here’s the photo that was attached, of a red-tailed hawk (Buteo jamaicensis):

hawk-december13-1

Peter also has a wonderful series called “Hungry hawk hunting in Providence,” which was his most popular post of the year. It’s comprises 17 photos of people feeding pigeons in the city, giving a hungry red-tail a chance for his own lunch.  Go over and see them all, but Peter has also sent me a selection. Remember that these are copyrighted and cannot be reproduced without permission (I have permission).

You can read more about Peter and his photography here.

PeterGreen-RTH1

PeterGreen-RTH2

PeterGreen-RTH3

PeterGreen-RTH4 PeterGreen-RTH5

PeterGreen-RTH6

PeterGreen-RTH7

PeterGreen-RTH8

New Year’s Eve in Dobrzyn

January 1, 2014 • 9:28 am

I don’t think I’ve been awake at the dawn of New Year for over a decade, but last night we decided to do it Polish style, with traditional noms, wine, and a viewing of the fireworks (ubiquitous in this country when the years change).

But first, dinner. Poles, like Hobbits, eat about five times a day, with breakfast, “second breakfast” (lunch), dinner (between 2 and 4 pm), the “before-evening” meal (between 5 and 6 pm), and “supper” (between 7 and 9 pm).

I suppose this feed from last night is the “before-evening” meal, a delicious casserole of kasha (buckwheat groats), mushrooms, sausage, chicken, and cheese sauce, served with a vegetable medley that is a hybrid between cole slaw and sauerkraut, all washed down with a cold beer:

Dinner

Malgorzata then prepared a sumptuous 11:30 pm buffet in the living room: smoked pork loin, cheeses, bread, pickles, smoked salmon, sliced red peppers and tomatoes. Andrzej and Malgorzata prepare for the New Year:

M&A

And a New Year’s toast, taken with a self timer:

New Year's toast

Emma the d*g was freaked out by the fireworks, and barked continuously (she used to be given d*ggy Valium before the noise began). Hili was also frightened, and hid behind the couch, emerging only after the fireworks had been over for about half an hour:

Hili 1

“Are they done yet?”

Hili 2