Saturday, 3 August 2013

Why all religion is wrong (I love science, part 3)



So far I have argued that rationality is the only way to judge fact from fiction; that something can only be considered correct if there is reason to believe it is correct.  There are lots things in the world that collide with this way of thinking; the vitamin tablet industry, herbs that cure cancer, any statement randomly selected from any random politician.  But the largest and most enduring collision must be religion.  Therefore I would say that all religion, irrelevant of brand, is wrong.  Not morally wrong; that would be a ridiculous assertion.  It’s not immoral to have faith, although the indoctrination of children is highly objectionable; I myself was christened without my consent.  Children do not yet realise that they can disregard what adults tell them.  If you fill them with tales of an afterlife and the many many ways they can earn punishment within it, they will literally believe in unending, infinite torture, which is in a real sense, abuse.

I, however mean wrong as in not correct, not accurate.

The universe can only contain whatever it contains.  That statement might seem very obvious, and not terribly productive, but let me elucidate.  All faiths rely on the supernatural, but the supernatural cannot exist.  The universe is what we call nature.  If the supernatural is real, then it’s not super because it then becomes part of the universe.  It’s just nature that we can’t explain; and if there is one thing we know for sure in science, it’s that we haven’t finished yet; there are lots of explanations still to be found.  Remember, we don’t invent science, we discover it.

This rather semantic argument is not my centre piece; it’s just my way of introducing an important point.  The method used to understand the universe is science, and science is different from every other philosophy or ideology that has ever existed because you can check to see if it is true.  Sciences main activity is checking itself by endlessly retesting ideas.  We return to the concept of doubt from part one.  If you doubt an idea is right you will examine it more closely, and test it to destruction.  If you believe it to be true, you will accept it and move on without a thought, and accepting anything without thought, I have already argued, is not a sensible act.


We learn about the universe by observing it and then finding an explanation for the observation.  The supernatural cannot be observed, and is therefore indistinguishable from the none existent. 
 


Everything we have ever learnt about the universe tells us it governed by rules, and that is not science imagining rules because it is reductionist and that’s all it does; of course science would say it’s all about rules.  Reductionism died nearly a century ago with the advent of quantum mechanics.  We now know that a system cannot be predicted precisely, and its function boiled down to a series of constants and absolutes.  Instead we deal with probabilities that a particular outcome is most likely.  A cup of coffee left on the side will cool down because the probability of it cooling down is vastly higher than it heating itself up.  The universe is far too small and young for that to have ever happened, but the probability is not zero.  These probabilities are not place holders for definitive knowledge; they are actually how the universe works.  Explaining that sentence is a book in itself.

And we know these rules apply everywhere.  Notice I say know, not believe.  There are ninety two naturally occurring elements and each one has a unique pattern of light emissions when energised; the spectral lines.  These lines aren’t just observed, they are predicted.  As an electron obits the proton in a hydrogen atom, it can only exist in specific energy states, and as it transits from one state to another it emits a photon to carry away the excess energy.  We can predict that there are four different quantities of energy that could be emitted by hydrogen, which relate to four different frequency of photon.  When we test hydrogen in a lab, we see the four predicted photons, and only those four.  When we look at the most distant object yet observed, a proto galaxy only five hundred millions years younger than the universe, we see the same spectrum.  The rules we have are neither temporary nor local, they are universal and permanent.

There are lots of different religions and over the millennia there have been countless others, each have their own theories about the nature of reality.  I doubt they are all correct.  In fact I doubt that any of them are correct, and cannot be without evidence.  So let’s consider the evidence.  There isn’t any.  Not a shred.  There is only subjective opinion from the personal experience of an individual and their faith.  That does not meet the exacting standards of the trinity; testable, measurable, repeatable.

But more than that, there can never be evidence, because evidence can be analysed, and dissected, and quantified, and so becomes science.  By declaring that it is mystical, and beyond human experience, and beyond human comprehension, when the formation of the universe, and the origin and evolution of life is not beyond human comprehension, religion shuts itself away in the dark; forever separated from mankind’s growing knowledge.

As someone who demands rationality, and someone who applies facts to his actions and decisions, I am mystified that self-contradicting fairy tales are given any credence by anybody.  I have not during this trilogy, mentioned Florence.  It is a safe bet to say that her knowledge of religion will be in the main, historical.  These old books give us a window in to the civilizations of North Africa, the eastern Mediterranean and the Middle East at the time they were written.  They don’t give us our moral systems, our political systems, our economic systems, or an explanation of the reality that we exist in.  Moses did not exist, Jesus probably didn’t exist, Mohammed probably did, but none of them were prophets.  There are no miracles.  There is no evidence.

I do like churches, wich may seem strange, but I do, as artefacts.  They carry an almost tangible weight of history with them.  Florence will experience that history, and she’ll learn how to behave in a church.  You are dignified, if there is praying you are silent, if there is singing you join in.  I would very much like us to visit some of the great temples in this world and experience them.  I am lucky enough to have some quality cathedrals near me; Salisbury is particularly good and was the Apollo program of its day.  I see them as an example of what humans can do when they put their minds to it, and they moves me as temples to human endeavour.

She will learn the creation story, the real one, the one we can check is true.  We are but temporary homes for the atoms that make us, that every part of you has been part of someone else before.  Everything you have ever seen on the surface of the Earth is made of atoms that were here before the Earth was.  We are actually star dust, endlessly recycled by living organisms.  This atheist view of reality is so much grander than any ancient fable could ever be; a grandeur enhanced by understanding the rules that create the order and beauty all around us.  The act of understanding is a great and glorious act.

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