optional ethics

Over the summer various ethical issues hit the headlines and became matters of public debate. One subject that particularly caught my attention was surrogacy following the case of baby Gammy, the child with Down's Syndrome born to a Thai surrogate mother and apparently rejected by his commissioning parents. I've been interested in surrogacy since I first researched it for a dissertation while studying in Oxford. My work was actually about The Warnock Report on Human Fertilization and Embryology and I used the topic of surrogacy to explore the underlying ethical assumptions behind the report.

What struck me about the recent discussions on surrogacy in the media, both mainstream and social, was the lack of ethical considerations in so much of the argument. For several days I heard and read interviews with those involved in surrogacy including: surrogates, clients, facilitators, doctors and lawyers. The practical, financial, legal and physiological aspects of surrogacy were explored in some depth. What I didn't hear was anything more than a cursory acknowledgement of the ethical questions raised by these matters. In the case of baby Gammy the issues were sharpened by the apparent rejection of the child by his potential parents because of his condition, though the full facts of that case are still to be clarified.

I listened in vain to BBC Radio 4 Today over several days while on holiday for one person to address the question of whether surrogacy was right or wrong; whether surrogacy was something we should be engaged in at all. I heard powerful emotional and unchallenged testimonies from surrogate parents and those who had become parents through surrogacy but the obvious questions were never addressed. Does surrogacy treat children as a commodity? What happens when the child acquired through surrogacy doesn't turn out the way the client parents hoped? What is the psychological impact on a surrogate child? Do we as a society view children as a gift or a right?...

My daughter took her GCSEs this summer and had to consider her A Level options. Her stronger subjects were in science along with philosophy and ethics and she had hoped to study philosophy as well as the sciences in the sixth form. However, due to timetabling issues it was impossible for her to study philosophy and physics together, much to her and our dismay. It seems crazy to me that a school would not consider philosophy an appropriate subject to study in combination with the sciences. If you want to know what happens when you separate scientific endeavour from considered philosophical and ethical reflection then you need look no further than Richard Dawkins twitter timeline.

Have we as a society lost the ability to reflect ethically on the issues confronting us today or are we simply reluctant to do so? Do we take seriously the challenge of educating our children not only to develop their knowledge and understanding of the world, but also to develop a moral framework within which that knowledge and understanding might be considered and used?

oh Dick

I was going to post something about Richard Dawkins' absurd assertions on Twitter but to be honest they are now so frequent that it's hardly worth comment (and I'm two glasses into a post Holiday Club delicious Pinot Noir). And so I simply share with you the wise advice of Dean Burnett:

For a typically succinct explanation of Dawkins' behaviour on Twitter I recommend The Very Hungry Dawkins.

Prayer happens

Like many others I was shocked and saddened at the scenes from the Bolton v Spurs F.A. Cup match on Saturday afternoon as Bolton midfielder Fabrice Muamba received emergency medical attention for what appeared to be a heart attack. Fabrice was treated immediately by skilled professionals before being taken to a specialist hospital for further treatment. The footballer’s condition is still described as critically ill.

Some people have been surprised at the response from many players and football staff, football fans and members of the public who have expressed their concern for Fabrice and said that they are praying for his recovery. I guess part of the surprise is that many of those praying would not have necessarily described themselves as religious and yet they were praying. I’m not surprised. In my ministry I’ve met lots of people who at times when they have felt deep concern for another in need have turned to prayer. I’m not bothered either. God longs to hear our prayers and those of us who are committed Christians are often put to shame by the paucity of our prayers when compared with the prayers of others who wouldn’t necessarily describe themselves as Christians.

A few weeks ago Richard Dawkins trumpeted the results of research which he argued showed that people weren’t as religious as they might claim. The full title of the survey was to find ‘the extent to which adults recorded as Christian in the 2011 UK Census (or who would have been recorded as Christian, if they had answered the question) believe, know about, practise and are influenced by Christianity, as well as their reasons for having described themselves as Christian in the Census’. Here’s a quote from the Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science press release:

UK residents who think of themselves as Christian show very low levels of Christian belief and practice, according to new research…
Indeed, many Christian practices, including regular reading of the Bible and prayer outside church services, appear to be unsupported amongst respondents self-identifying as Christian.

May I suggest another piece of research for Dawkins and his foundation. How about a survey of the extent to which people who wouldn’t describe themselves as Christian or religious, nevertheless participate in religious practices including prayer? I think the results may be quite telling if the responses to Fabrice Muamba’s medical condition are anything to go by.

Dawkins appeared in a debate with the Archbishop of Canterbury (yes, Rowan is still Archbishop until then end of the year) on the subject of the nature and origins of human beings. At one point late in the debate a member of the audience raised  a question  about the problem of suffering. Dawkins’ response was to say that ‘stuff happens’ in a rather fatalistic and resigned manner. My response would be to say that ‘prayer happens’ and it seems that many share that response.

Anyway, I thank God for the skill and dedication of all those who have been and still are involved in treating and caring for Fabrice Muamba and I, like many others, continue to pray for him and his family.

Nature and Origin

I managed to watch the excellent debate between Richard Dawkins, Rowan Williams and Anthony Kenny from Oxford on Thursday afternoon. The topic was 'The nature of human beings and the question of their ultimate origin.' I also followed the Twitter stream on the debate for a few moments before giving up because it was just so tiresome and predictable. The debate is available to view on the Archbishop’s website.

A few brief reflections. I was really impressed with the tone of the debate. There was no grandstanding, chest thumping or brow beating which has sadly marred many of these debates. (I think for example of the Stephen Fry & Christopher Hitchens verses Ann Widdicombe & Archbishop Onaiyekan bout in the Intelligence Squared debate on the Catholic Church.) This may have been for a couple of reasons. Firstly, the audience was asked not to applaud and so the debaters didn’t play to the crowd in a Question Time way where each contributor raises their voice to a frenzied crescendo on every point to elicit clapping. Secondly, we had some real experts in their fields who had the intelligence to engage in rational debate and interact with each other’s arguments. There were also a few moments of genuine wit as well as wisdom. Those of us engaged in apologetics would do well to learn from the gracious manner in which the debaters engaged in the process.

However, I was genuinely surprised at how out of depth Richard Dawkins seemed once the debate turned to philosophical matters. At one point he said ‘I am not a philosopher’ and virtually excused himself from the discussion on the rest of that point. The problem for Dawkins is that he is continually trying to make philosophical points or at least engage with matters of philosophy and theology in his statements and writings. If you are going to comment on the discipline of others then you need at least to be able to engage with the language and concepts. By contrast, although both Kenny and Williams stressed they weren’t scientists it was clear that they had read Dawkins’ work and were familiar with some of his evidence. Kenny at one point challenged the research Dawkins appealed to regarding choice and free will (the processes involved in picking up a glass of water) and I thought convincingly exposed it weakness.

My second reflection leads on to my third. It seemed to me that both Kenny and Williams were comfortable engaging with Dawkins on matters of science and acknowledging his expertise. Williams went out of his way to praise Dawkins’ writing on the beauty of the universe. They not only accepted but celebrated science and displayed a humility about the subject. It was clear they had both thought long and hard about Dawkins’ evidence base and its strengths and weaknesses. By contrast Dawkins wanted to reduce everything to the purely scientific. Everything, he said, could or would be explained within the discipline of science. Therefore Dawkins sees no need to go outside his discipline in order to understand the subject of the debate. This perhaps explains why Dawkins doesn’t give the disciplines he doesn’t respect the courtesy of studying them in any depth.

Some may have found it frustrating that Williams was prepared to live with questions and uncertainty, for example on the problem of suffering. Anyone who knows the Archbishop’s writings and theology will understand that this is characteristic of his approach. His faith in God means he doesn’t feel he needs to have all the answers neatly tied down, that’s God’s problem not his. This for me is the heart of the matter; the contrast between someone who wants to have everything understood and explained and someone who is content to live with ambiguity and uncertainty within faith in One who doesn’t explain the gaps but encompasses everything. Or as Williams put it, a God who is ‘Love plus Mathematics’.

What’s Darwin’s book called?

The Richard Dawkins Foundation For Reason and Science has commissioned some research to discover ‘the extent to which adults recorded as Christian in the 2011 UK Census (or who would have been recorded as Christian, if they had answered the question) believe, know about, practise and are influenced by Christianity, as well as their reasons for having described themselves as Christian in the Census’.

Dawkins was joined on the BBC Radio 4 Today programme by Revd Giles Fraser, former Canon Chancellor of St Paul's, to debate the survey and here is the recording of their discussion.

The highlight for me comes at about 3.15 when Fraser says ‘Richard, if I said to you what is the full title of The Origin of Species I’m sure you could tell me that.’ Dawkins responds ‘Yes I could’ and Fraser says ‘Go on then’. Dawkins' response is rather revealing as he struggles to remember the full title. The point Fraser is making is that you wouldn’t  dismiss someone’s belief in evolution just because they can’t remember the full title of the book, yet, this seems to be the approach taken in the survey regarding the Christian faith. Fraser goes on to critique the survey and the interpretation placed on it’s findings.

 

I must say I am fascinated by the amount of effort expended by Dawkins and his chums in opposing the Christian faith. I am greatly encouraged that they take Christianity so seriously they feel compelled to devote so much time and energy to their cause. Perhaps as Christians we should feel challenged to be as serious and energetic about the faith we espouse.

Stop moaning, keep praying

Richard Dawkins has carved out quite a career for himself as flag waver in chief for the New Atheists. His utterances have ‘cool’ comedians genuflecting and Christians fuming in indignation. Sometimes Dawkins’ refusal to speak is more infuriating than his ranting. That seems to be true of his latest sortie into the battle. Or should I say his decision to decline entering the battle.

The theist William Lane Craig has invited Dawkins to a debate and Dawkins has declined. Fair enough, no one is required to participate in a debate about their views, even if others might suspect it is because Dawkins fears the weakness of his arguments being exposed. Dawkins has explained his decision in The Guardian. The first reason he gives is that he had never heard of Craig and neither had any of his philosopher chums so why should he give Craig publicity by granting him a debate:

Don't feel embarrassed if you've never heard of William Lane Craig. He parades himself as a philosopher, but none of the professors of philosophy whom I consulted had heard his name either. Perhaps he is a "theologian". For some years now, Craig has been increasingly importunate in his efforts to cajole, harass or defame me into a debate with him. I have consistently refused, in the spirit, if not the letter, of a famous retort by the then president of the Royal Society: "That would look great on your CV, not so good on mine"

Dawkins then went on to explain that he would not debate Craig because of Craig’s explanation of the text of Deuteronomy 20. Dawkins’ argues that Craig is guilty of defending genocide and that makes him an unworthy opponent:

Would you shake hands with a man who could write stuff like that? Would you share a platform with him? I wouldn't, and I won't. Even if I were not engaged to be in London on the day in question, I would be proud to leave that chair in Oxford eloquently empty.

And if any of my colleagues find themselves browbeaten or inveigled into a debate with this deplorable apologist for genocide, my advice to them would be to stand up, read aloud Craig's words as quoted above, then walk out and leave him talking not just to an empty chair but, one would hope, to a rapidly emptying hall as well.

A response to Dawkins has been offered by the philosopher Daniel Came. Again writing in The Guardian Came suggests:

Given that there isn't much in the way of serious argumentation in the New Atheists' dialectical arsenal, it should perhaps come as no surprise that Dawkins and Grayling aren't exactly queuing up to enter a public forum with an intellectually rigorous theist like Craig to have their views dissected and the inadequacy of their arguments exposed…

Came goes on to say that though he is disinclined to defend Craig’s argument about Deuteronomy 20 the issue is a red herring:

But whatever you make of Craig's view on this issue, it is irrelevant to the question of whether or not God exists. Hence it is quite obvious that Dawkins is opportunistically using these remarks as a smokescreen to hide the real reasons for his refusal to debate with Craig – which has a history that long predates Craig's comments on the Canaanites.

As a sceptic, I tend to agree with Dawkins's conclusion regarding the falsehood of theism, but the tactics deployed by him and the other New Atheists, it seems to me, are fundamentally ignoble and potentially harmful to public intellectual life. For there is something cynical, ominously patronising, and anti-intellectualist in their modus operandi, with its implicit assumption that hurling insults is an effective way to influence people's beliefs about religion. The presumption is that their largely non-academic readership doesn't care about, or is incapable of, thinking things through; that passion prevails over reason. On the contrary, people's attitudes towards religious belief can and should be shaped by reason, not bile and invective. By ignoring this, the New Atheists seek to replace one form of irrationality with another.

The interesting point here is that Came is arguing from a philosophical, not theistic, position and he is clear that he is not a theist. Came despairs at the arrogance and lack of intellectual rigour at the heart of the New Atheist enterprise and longs for a different tone to the debate:

The New Atheism is certainly a far cry from the model of civilised interlocution between "old atheist" Bertrand Russell and Father Copleston that took place and was broadcast on BBC Radio in 1948. The New Atheists could learn a lot from the likes of Russell, whose altogether more powerful approach was at once respectful and a model of philosophical precision.

Now here is what I think of the matter. It is about time we Christians stopped moaning about Dawkins and his pals. They have every right to spout about their particular brand of atheism and they have every right to decline defending it when confronted with anything bordering on a rigorous intellectual examination. I think we should spend more time praying for these people and less time complaining when they don’t do what we want. I suspect that would wind them up far more and, who knows, they may find their hearts strangely warmed by the Good News of Jesus Christ. As it is I can’t help feeling there is something of the hound of heaven about Dawkins’ increasingly vehement attacks on everything to do with God.

Hawking heaven

I am always bemused at the seriousness with which certain people’s words are taken when they are talking about subjects outside their own particular discipline. Richard Dawkins opens his mouth about religion and the media goes into a frenzy, unable or unwilling to spot the weaknesses and at times blatant ignorance beneath the froth of the headline quotes.  Another media favourite is the eminent cosmologist Stephen Hawking. A couple of days ago The Guardian reported an interview with Hawking covering a wide range of issues. The quote that got the headlines was when Hawking declared that heaven is just ‘a fairy story for people afraid of the dark’. Here is the full quote:

"I have lived with the prospect of an early death for the last 49 years. I'm not afraid of death, but I'm in no hurry to die. I have so much I want to do first," he said.

"I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark," he added.

An excellent response to Hawking was offered by Michael Wenham, a fellow sufferer of motor neurone disease, again published in The Guardian. Wenham challenged Hawking’s comment about the brain as a computer:

It's unarguably true that there's no heaven for broken down computers, as I have found to my cost when I poured fruit juice over my laptop. The brain may be nothing but a most remarkable computer, yet there's something generically different from a computer in a brain which, when it starts to malfunction as happens in MND, can begin to love Wagner's music and "enjoy life more". That, I would say, is irrational, but not uncommon. Human beings, it would appear, are something more than machines. Maybe science will one day describe what the difference is.

And with regard to Hawking’s remarks about heaven Wenham comments:

Finally, Stephen Hawking's headlined observation about death, that an after-life "is a fairy-story for people afraid of the dark" is both sad and misinformed. Openness to the theoretical possibility of there being 11 dimensions and fundamental particles "as yet undiscovered" shows an intellectual humility strangely at odds with writing off the possibility of other dimensions of existence.

For someone "facing the prospect of an early death", with probably an unpleasant prelude, the idea of extinction holds no more fear than sleep. It really is insulting to accuse me of believing there might be life after death because I'm afraid of the dark. On the contrary, sad though I shall be to leave behind those I love, I suspect the end of life, whatever happens, will be a relief. And, like Pascal making his wager, if it is dark, I really won't mind, because, of course, there won't be a me to mind.

Wenham’s response continued with an affirmation of his own faith, founded on his belief in the evidence for the resurrection of Jesus Christ, before concluding:

As for the idea that belief in an afterlife is a consolation, it is not just about heaven. Most faiths in fact have a notion of judgment, which is hardly comfortable for anyone, although it does focus the motivation not to waste one's life. Moreover in our situation Professor Hawking surely knows better than that some notion in your head, whatever that notion might be, makes the frustrations and pains of a terminal illness somehow more bearable. That's the nonsense of those who have not been there. I can't prove it of course, but on good grounds I'd stake my life on it, that beyond death will be another great adventure; but first I have to get finish this one.

Another response to Hawking’s views about heaven and the afterlife was offered today by Tom Wright in the Washington Post.

It’s depressing to see Stephen Hawking, one of the most brilliant minds in his field, trying to speak as an expert on things he sadly seems to know rather less about than many averagely intelligent Christians. Of course there are people who think of ‘heaven’ as a kind of pie-in-the-sky dream of an afterlife to make the thought of dying less awful. No doubt that’s a problem as old as the human race. But in the Bible ‘heaven’ isn’t ‘the place where people go when they die.’ In the Bible heaven is God’s space while earth (or, if you like, ‘the cosmos’ or ‘creation’) is our space. And the Bible makes it clear that the two overlap and interlock. For the ancient Jews, the place where this happened was the temple; for the Christians, the place where this happened was Jesus himself, and then, astonishingly, the persons of Christians because they, too, were ‘temples’ of God’s own spirit.

Hawking is working with a very low-grade and sub-biblical view of ‘going to heaven.’ Of course, if faced with the fully Christian two-stage view of what happens after death -- first, a time ‘with Christ’ in ‘heaven’ or ‘paradise,’and then, when God renews the whole creation, bodily resurrection -- he would no doubt dismiss that as incredible. But I wonder if he has ever even stopped to look properly, with his high-octane intellect, at the evidence for Jesus and the resurrection? I doubt it -- most people in England haven’t. Until he has, his opinion about all this is worth about the same as mine on nuclear physics, i.e. not much.

Wright goes on to a more general critique of Hawking and others who share his worldview:

As for the creation being self-caused: I wonder if he realises that he is simply repeating a version of ancient Epicureanism? i.e. the gods are out of the picture, a long way away, so the world/human life/etc has to get on under its own steam. This is hardly a ‘conclusion’ from his study of the evidence; it’s simply a well known worldview shared by most post-Enlightenment westerners…

The depressing thing is that Hawking doesn’t seem to realize this and so hasn’t even stopped to think that there might be quite sophisticated critiques of Epicureanism, ancient and modern, which he should work through. Not least the Christian one, which again focuses on Jesus.

My own comment is this: I do wish that those who clearly have a brain (computer or not) would use it to think through what they say about faith with the same measure of rigour that they apply to their own areas of expertise.

is faith a sign of dementia?

I’m lecturing on Theology and Experience in a couple of weeks time and so a recent article in the New York Times caught my attention. The piece is about Dr Francis Collins the new Director of the National Institutes of Health in the United States. Collins is no mug; he was in charge of the Human Genome Project, but his appointment seems to have caused some concern because as well as being a prominent scientist he is also a committed Christian. This has led to some questioning in the scientific community as to whether Collins is an appropriate choice for director. Gardiner Harris writing in the NYT comments:

First, there is the God issue. Dr. Collins believes in him. Passionately. And he preaches about his belief in churches and a best-selling book. For some presidential appointees, that might not be a problem, but many scientists view such outspoken religious commitment as a sign of mild dementia.

Collins describes his journey to faith in his book The Language of God: A Scientist Presents Evidence for Belief. In the book Collins relates how he was challenged by a patient who asked what he believed and he found himself flushed and stammering in response to the question. This incident caused Collins to explore the possible existence of God and he concluded that He does exist. Some critics have dismissed the experience as an easily explained medical condition, a hormonal rush, suggesting that Collins’s failure to recognise this and willingness to give it a higher significance was cause for concern. Others have been worried that there might be a conflict between Collins’s faith and, for example, developments in therapeutic cloning which will fall under his remit. Collins has assured colleagues that he is committed to therapeutic cloning and sees no conflict with his religious beliefs.

The story is reminiscent of Michael Reiss who was forced to resign as director of science education at the Royal Society earlier this year. Dr Reiss is a priest and some Fellows of the Royal Society claimed his faith was incompatible with his role. One notable critic was Richard Dawkins who described Reiss’s appointment as a Monty Python sketch. The accusation against Reiss was that he was a Creationist and, even though he denied this, there were some in the scientific community who just couldn’t understand how his faith was not in conflict with his commitment to evolutionary biology.

When I hear of these incidents I find myself asking a question; who are the real fundamentalists? Who are the people so locked into their world view, their belief system, that they can’t allow for any experience or understanding of that experience outside their framework? On the evidence of these stories the real fundamentalists are not the Christians.

hunting the Unicorn

Camp Quest, the atheist children’s summer camp, opens this week and has already received much attention in the media. Several of my friends and colleagues are attending New Wine, a Christian summer camp, taking place in the same county as Camp Quest, so one wonders whether there might be the opportunity for an exchange visit. Who would feel more threatened by such a suggestion; the self proclaimed free thinking atheists or those Richard Dawkins and his chums so glibly dismiss as closed minded fundamentalists? I’m all in favour of children’s camps and many of the activities at Camp Quest are exactly what I hope my children will be doing during the holidays; plenty of activities to stimulate the body and the mind.

However, I do have some reservations about Camp Quest. I had a brief look at the biographies of the camp counsellors and was interested to see how many were keen to explain their atheism in ways no different from how Christians leading their camps might write. There is the whiff of zeal about those leading Camp Quest, a zeal which many atheists are quick to dismiss in those articulating a faith position. I was also amused to learn that one of the activities on the camp is ‘the famous invisible Unicorns challenge’ in which children will be encouraged to disprove the existence of these marvellous creatures. The problem is that most people know these creatures died out because they were too stupid to get aboard Noah’s ark when the great flood came. Seriously, it does seem rather defensive and reactive to laud an activity with the primary aim of disproving the existence of something.

I’m a big fan of children’s summer camps as in the early 1980s I helped run the children’s programme at a Christian conference centre and during the late 80s and early 90s was involved as a leader on CYFA ventures. I have seen the big impact these holidays have had on the lives of many young people, including members of the church youth group I lead as a curate. These holidays also had a big impact on me as a Christian leader. I learnt many important insights into what we called ‘servant leadership’ that have stayed with me throughout my ministry. But the biggest impact on my life is that on one of these ventures I met the person who is now my wife!

Anyway, I hope the young people on Camp Quest and the many other camps and ventures taking place around the country have a great holiday. I also hope and pray they are given the time and space to marvel at the wonders of the world around them and to reflect on the why questions as well as the how questions of life.

the not quite atheist bus

The Atheist Bus Campaign finally got under way yesterday. For those who don't know, it is basically a series of adverts on City Buses saying 'There's probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.' The campaign is the 'brainchild' of comedian Ariane Sherine, who I'd never heard of until reading about the project in The Guardian, and about £140,000 has been raised for the adverts.

Just a few brief comments about the project. It isn't really an Atheist Bus Campaign but more an agnostic bus campaign - the word probably being the issue and supporters of the campaign seem to disagree about whether it should have been included.

The campaign has had a massive amount of publicity, with numerous articles in the national media and a significant item on last nights BBC news, so I'm not sure why its supporters are so surprised at the amount of money they raised. The usual suspects have signed up including those dependable atheists A. C. Grayling, Polly Toynbee and Richard Dawkins. The report of the press launch which I saw yesterday showed a rather large heated tent with the three of them sitting in the front row and behind them quite a few empty seats. Dawkins did his piece to camera and The Guardian has posted a video of Toynbee interviewing Dawkins.

The problem for the campaigners is that their advert seems to have misfired. On the whole Christian organisations have welcomed the campaign because it gets people talking about God. As a representative from a Christian advertising network said on B.B.C. London News, the real concern for Christians is apathy.

blind faith

I’ve been reading Ben Elton’s books on and off since the 1980’s and his first book Stark. His latest Blind Faith is written in the typical Elton style with lots of quick fire observations similar to his verbal delivery, not much characterisation but more of a graphic novel without the pictures. Blind Faith is based in a near future world where a great flood has wiped out half the world and the story centres on one individual living in a sub tropical London half submerged under water. It’s an updated 1984 which takes a swipe at many of the features of contemporary popular culture. A world where there is virtually no privacy with everybody living their lives on line and on screen, people wear few clothes and expose their emotions as well as their flesh. In this world Elton has a dig at ‘cause’ Wembley concerts; you tubing; blogging; obesity; junk food; cosmetic surgery; the MMR crisis; bizarre children’s names; the cult of celebrity and the desire to be famous. There is one superb moment when a law is passed by plebiscite at a faith concert declaring that from now on everyone will be famous.

London is a dystopian city, overcrowded, with poor housing, the public utilities breaking down, disease rampant and people forced to be happy and engage with all sorts of communal activities, from the work ‘group hug’ to watching each other having sex on line. Privacy and secrets are seen as anti-social and everyone has the right to celebrate and be celebrated for who they are. Public emoting is encouraged as is public grieving. Some of the descriptions are pretty graphic but effectively highlight the way in which pornography dehumanises and abuses. However, the key focus of Elton’s venom is religion. The country is ruled by the Temple and the ministers of God who is called the Love. Everyone believes in the Love and life is dictated by activities demonstrating love for the Love. It’s actually a rather medieval and distorted portrayal of Christianity and not unlike Pullman’s Magisterium; there are confessors, bishops and inquisitors and heretics are burned. The flood is seen as God’s judgement on the sinfulness of the world and much of the scientific world is dismissed as belonging to the dark ages before the flood. As a consequence vaccinations are seen as evil and the child mortality rate is about one in two.

Against this background the central character, Trafford, gradually rebels. He wants to keep secrets and retain a measure of privacy. He is drawn into a secret humanist society where he is introduced to the world of books, most of which have been banned. Trafford finds joy in the novel and the use of his imagination but above all he discovers Darwin and evolutionary theory and this is his salvation. The pivotal moment for Trafford is when he has his child vaccinated in direct contravention of the laws of the Temple. Throughout the book religion is presented as irrational, contradictory, hypocritical, corrupt, self serving and destructive. Science and reason are the only things worth believing in and hold the only answer for a society heading for destruction.

And this is the problem. I don’t dispute that there are aspects of religion and faith that deserve to be critiqued and satirised and these are a legitimate target. But for Elton faith has no redeeming qualities, there is no nuance, no subtlety, just a shotgun blast that misses most of its targets. His religion is so disgusting, so bizarre, so lacking in connection with reality that any legitimate critique is lost in the gross simplicities and over blown descriptions. In short he highlights the failing of many of his humanist chums – so repelled by the thought of religion and so caught up in the attack and fearful of the enemy that he completely undermines his case. Blind Faith ends up being little more than The God Delusion for Dummies.

dordogne (2) - brantome

Abbey at Brantome

Interesting day out at Brantome and the Grotte de Villars. Brantome is a popular place to start canoeing down the Dronne and it was amusing to watch novices trying to navigate the weirs. The town has a Benedictine abbey built by Charlemagne in 769AD and there is a pleasant mix of renaissance and medieval architecture. I did read it described as the Venice of the Dordogne but I think that is over egging it a bit.

The Grotte de Villars is a stunning cave system discovered in the middle of the last century. The stalactites and stalagmites form fascinating structures and patterns and the caves are still ‘live’ which means they are still being formed by the passage of water. No point hanging around to see the structures develop as it takes 100 years for a stalactite to grow up to 10cm. I was interested to learn that two abbots were involved in discovering the caves and the prehistoric cave paintings on the walls, some almost hidden by ongoing calcification. It reminded me that many clergy have played an important part in discovering and exploring the natural world and ties in with the article by Libby Purvis on Richard Dawkins that Jonathan Evens highlighted on his blog.

Very much enjoying the gite, though feel we are rather unfortunate in having arrived just as the owners, who live next door, have purchased a cockerel. He is much better at crowing early in the morning than his efforts with the hens. Time to dig out the recipe for ‘coq au vin’.

Grotte de Villars