Why People Matter

Recently I made a comment in an e-mail note expressing my concern about how people are treated. My correspondent responded with some interesting questions:

Why would it matter how people are treated in a universe without God?
Why should we help other human beings at all if there is no God?

I think the key question underlying both of these is, “Why do you care?”

I can think of three reasons why it matters to me how other people are treated: it is part of human nature, my training reinforced it, and my own self-interest requires it.

Nature

My concern for other people is natural—instinctive.

Like all other humans, I am a social animal. I am by nature inclined to enjoy the companionship and society of other people. There is a wide spectrum of extroversion and introversion, and I'm very much an introvert, but I still have a very strong desire to have close relationships, and I even enjoy meeting new people.

As a part of my innate sociability, my emotions resonate with those of other people. I care about how they feel, because I experience some of what they feel. Knowing how various situations affect me, I experience empathy with people who are in similar circumstances. I sympathize with people who are suffering.

Only sociopathic people lack empathy. It is a part of mental health, unrelated to religion or lack of religion. Mothers love their children and everyone cares about their friends, regardless of their worldview or the kind of gods they worship. Many psychologists have studied caring relationships, and some intriguing studies have found that a number of primate species demonstrate compassion, indicating that the capacity for empathy evolved even before our species did.

The fact that empathy is natural doesn't imply that people will never mistreat each other. Anger and the desire for revenge are emotions as natural as love and compassion. People who harm others often regret doing so, however, because mistreating other people is contrary to the kinder aspects of our nature.

Why does it matter how other people are treated? Because we relate to other people and share their emotions. Why should we help other people? Because we know how it feels to receive help when we need it.

Nurture

I was trained to care.

I grew up in a family that valued compassion. Before I was born, my parents chose to serve as houseparents in a home for orphans. Seeing the needs of the children they cared for, my father made a career in social work, in the field of child welfare.

I absorbed the concern for others that my parents taught and demonstrated. I took seriously the teaching of the Bible and my church that love for others—even enemies—is the greatest virtue. My family, my friends, my teachers, and the books I read all reinforced my innate tendency to care about other people.

Self-interest

I know that it benefits me to love other people.

As a Christian, I often heard teachers say that we love because God loved us first. With a long background of teachings like that, I was a little surprised to discover how much I still loved and cared for people when I found myself no longer believing in God.

As I pondered this discovery, I realized not only that my concern for others is natural, but that it benefits me in many ways. I depend on other people for most of my needs. I don't think I would survive for very long if there were no other people around—nor would I enjoy surviving alone. I am not an island—either physically or emotionally.

Because of my dependence on other people and my friendships with them, I care about their welfare. I want their lives to be secure and enjoyable, and I want to contribute to their happiness. I want to treat them in the ways I want to be treated.

I want everyone to be treated well—not just my friends and family. People who are treated badly behave badly. When people suffer extreme injustice, they grow desperate for revenge. In their anger, they often strike out at anyone and everyone, with little regard for whether or not their victims are actually responsible for their suffering. If everyone were happy, no one would be a terrorist.

Tenzin Gyatso, the 14th Dalai Lama said,

If you want others to be happy, practice compassion; if you want to be happy, practice compassion.

I agree.


Influence of religion

I have heard people suggest that former Christians care for other people primarily because of their religious background. Although I don't deny that I was influenced by my training, the idea that it is responsible for my humanitarian values is not supported by my observations.

First, I found that some of my values changed dramatically when I left religion, while others remained very much the same. This indicates to me that I'm not merely a product of my upbringing or my religious traditions.

Second, my Christian teachers and role models taught me to love everyone, but I find that the strength of my passion for the welfare of other people varies, depending on the level of my relationship with those people. The people I know the best and spend the most time with—my family and friends—are the ones I love the most. As I observe my reactions to news stories and e-mails, I see that I tend to care more about acquaintances and even strangers I encounter than I do about people I have no direct contact with at all. I care more about Americans than I do about Asians.

This spectrum of concern is not what my religious teachers promoted, but is consistent with the idea that empathy evolved as a result of the benefits of empathetic behavior. Caring for one's own family and tribe is likely to have been much more beneficial than caring for strangers who had different languages and customs.

I see plenty of evidence that other people, religious or not, share this pattern of caring for others.

What matters most

Nature, nurture, and self-interest all factor into my concern for other people. Those explanations of my motivation for that concern may not be the whole story, but the completeness of my understanding isn't essential to the truth of my feelings. In the end, it doesn't really matter much why I care about other people. I do care, and that's what matters.

My answers to questions often asked of atheists.

The Friendly Atheist has asked atheists to give brief answers to several questions that are often asked of atheists. Here are my answers:

Why do you not believe in God?
Everything I’ve learned about the universe leads me to believe that it operates by natural processes. I don’t see any convincing evidence that there are supernatural beings of any kind.

Where do your morals come from?
Morals are ways of dealing with common problems of living. I make moral decisions on the basis of my estimation of what would bring me the greatest happiness in the long run. This includes the well-being of my family, friends, and all people.

What is the meaning of life?
The meaning of a person’s life is the message communicated to other people by that person’s words and actions. The idea that a particular message is intended by someone or something outside of that person is a natural consequence of belief in gods, but it implies that people are not responsible for their own lives.

Is atheism a religion?
Theism and atheism are beliefs about the existence of one or more supernatural beings that control or influence life. Neither is a religion in itself. There are many theistic religions, and many atheistic ways of living.

If you don’t pray, what do you do during troubling times?
I read, think about what I have read or experienced, talk with other people about the issues that concern me, write about my concerns as a way to help me think about them, and take whatever actions I can to improve the situation.

Should atheists be trying to convince others to stop believing in God?
Learning the truth is the best foundation I know of for making wise decisions. We should all present our reasons for what we believe to be the truth, and be open to learn from each other.

Weren’t some of the worst atrocities in the 20th century committed by atheists?
All the worst atrocities were committed by people who considered other people to be less human than themselves. Their actions were guided by their personal agendas more than by their nominal affiliations with particular religious or philosophical stances.

How could billions of people be wrong when it comes to belief in God?
Billions of people disagree with other billions of people about everything, including belief in gods. They can’t all be right.

Why does the universe exist?
Our current knowledge of the universe is inadequate to know the answer to this.

How did life originate?
This question is being researched, but many aspects of the origin of life are still unclear. To the best of our knowledge, the first living organisms developed from self-replicating molecules that formed from combinations of simpler molecules.

Is all religion harmful?
The greatest harm caused by religion is that many religious belief systems encourage people to treat other people in ways they would not want to be treated themselves. Religions that are tolerant and respectful of other people are nevertheless harmful in that they promote false beliefs and ways of thinking that discourage learning.

What’s so bad about religious moderates?
Religious moderates are not bad. Their values are generally humane, and their influence often tempers the effects of extremist positions.

Is there anything redeeming about religion?
Religious groups provide opportunities to develop friendships with people who share similar values. Cohesive groups often provide emotional and physical support when needed.
Religion itself can offer comfort in difficult times as well as a sense of worth in being part of a beneficial historic or cosmic movement.

What if you’re wrong about God (and He does exist)?
If I’m wrong, I’m wrong. The implications of that would depend on what the god is like. If the god is strict and demanding, we’re all in trouble. If the god is loving and merciful, we don’t have anything to worry about.

Shouldn’t all religious beliefs be respected?
All people should be respected. Beliefs deserve respect to the degree that they are supported by evidence, not merely because someone holds to them.

Are atheists smarter than theists?
I doubt that there is any difference in intelligence between theists and atheists. I do believe there is a positive correlation between atheism and a broad education.

How do you deal with the historical Jesus if you don’t believe in his divinity?
Jesus was a man whose life was exaggerated to promote him as a deity, and whose teachings have been adapted to support the purposes of other teachers who followed him.

Would the world be better off without any religion?
The world would be better off with more focus on truth—without religion or superstition in any form.

What happens when we die?
Like all other living things that die, we decompose, and the substances of which we are made are recycled.

Blame for the Virginia Tech Massacre

A friend forwarded Del Tacket's editorial on the Virginia Tech massacre to me today. Tacket blames this tragedy on "an inherently sinful nature," and claims that "Evil lurks in the heart of man and it will erupt when it is allowed to act unconstrained."

Like Tacket, I'm disgusted by the callous adoption of this tragedy to promote political agendas without first taking time to mourn it. And I agree that blaming various social problems for it obscures the fact that Cho was responsible for his own actions.

But I see no benefit to placing blame at all. I think attempts to do so are oversimplifications of the many interacting influences on events. It seems to me that people who try to pin blame on one person's character, weak gun control laws, inadequate mental health care, or whatever, are hoping to find a simple way to prevent such events. I think it's much more beneficial to try to understand as much as we can about the various contributing factors that led to this event, and take steps to mitigate the problems that led up to it. This was a highly visible tragedy, but many less obvious ones happen every day becase of the same problems that caused this one.

I think Tacket would have presented a stronger case if he had avoided judging people as "wicked" or "sinful," which simply condemns them according to his moral standards; I don't think doing so is helpful in understanding their thinking. He apparently believes that there are only two possible judgements of human nature: tragically flawed or basically good. I see people as natural. Some are better than others by my moral standards, but each is different.

I don't see evil lurking in the hearts of the people I know. My impression is that the vast majority of people are motivated primarily by good will toward other people. Some commit heinous crimes in misguided attempts to improve their own lives or those of others. I've heard very little about Cho's manifesto, but the fact that he wrote one seems to indicate that he hoped society would benefit from his murders.

I sympathize with the families and friends of those who were murdered, including the family of the murderer. I grieve especially for those people who, like Cho, feel desperately lonely and angry with the "wicked" people who fail to welcome him into their society.

There is no perfect tree

One of the major changes in my perspective on life was the realization that differences from norms aren't defects.  The idea of personal perfection is nonsense, and there is no particular way things "ought" to be.

One day when I was out in our back yard thinking about the audacity of some people who were trying to tell me that some things were wrong with my life, it occurred to me that there is no perfect tree.  We don't judge a tree by whether or not its branches and leaves have exactly the shape we think they should have; we look at the whole tree and admire its beauty.

I was taught that sin is a failure to live up to the perfection that God requires for a relationship with him.  The concept of a perfect person makes no more sense than that of a perfect tree.  Each is different and each is good.  I feel uniquely valuable and enjoy being myself.  I look for ways in which my particular abilities can be useful to other people.  I take pleasure in who I am, apart from my accomplishments.

It seems that we increase our discontent with life by comparing it to the way things are "supposed to be."  We set up an unattainably high standard for what we want from our friends, our jobs, and every aspect of life, and then feel disappointed because the reality isn't what we think it ought to be.  Realizing that there is no "ought" has mellowed me.  I can enjoy my job even if it isn't what I've always dreamed of doing.  I can be disappointed with my friend's decision not to go hiking with me without being angry that he isn't doing what a friend "should" do.

Many quarrels in the world arise from moral judgements.  We classify people as good and evil based on their apparent motives.  It seems to me that we all have one fundamental motivation for everything we do: to improve our own well-being.  The people we think of as supremely evil—serial murderers or terrorists, perhaps—are distinguished by their disregard for the well-being of other people.  They apparently believe that the well-being of others is incompatible with their own.  It seems likely that in the vast majority of cases they are mistaken in this belief, but that doesn't make them any less human or less deserving of life than the rest of us.  By accepting the fact that other people have different values, it's easier to address issues more compassionately and negotiate arrangements that are mutually beneficial.

People make moral judgements as a way of attempting to control other people's actions.  At the bottom of all control issues, there seems to be fear—fear that people will do things that will harm me or other people.  Maybe they will.  If they do, I will do whatever I can to protect myself and others.  But I will try to limit myself to defensive actions that don't unnecessarily limit the offender's choices, because that's how I would want to be treated.