Believing in responsibility

Every year around this time, some controversy seems to erupt that gets everyone on campus talking. Past wars of words have ranged from college administrative politics to missing newspaper conspiracies. This year, the point of contention materializes in the question: “Can we be good without God?”

It goes without saying that the formal debate addressing this topic on May 15 will hardly come close to peacefully resolving this dense philosophical issue, despite the debaters’ best efforts. Dan Barker, the token atheist, will most likely argue that the question is moot since God most likely doesn’t exist. On the flip side, Jon Kaus will defend the opposite point, implying that questions of morality do relate to a higher power and have eternal consequences for us mortal souls. Unlike other debates, in which you carefully weigh the points each presenter makes before deciding who made the better argument, you probably already have a clear winner in mind.

I find it very fascinating how faith affects our thinking. An amiable intelligent conversation can easily turn into an emotional shouting match or simply stop abruptly once personal beliefs are challenged. In the past, I’ve literally witnessed acquaintances’ eyes glaze over after I bring up an unconventional theological idea—thus forcing me to change topic.

People often assume matters of belief and matters of reason occupy separate philosophical and psychological realms. After all, spiritual faith tends to deal with ideas and entities that can’t be observed using the five senses. Because of this epistemological difference, beliefs and facts appear almost mutually exclusive.

However, recent psychological findings suggest that there is no real separation in our minds between facts and beliefs. Individuals who read either religious or mathematical statements in an MRI machine showed brain activity in many similar regions. The main differences in activity corresponded to the level of certainty the person had regarding each statement.

These results have huge implications in connecting faith and rationality. It seems as though we process information based on how confident we are that it’s true, regardless of spiritual or factual connotations. If this is the case, then I think we should approach both religious beliefs and factual knowledge using the same analytic methods. In the same way we question our understanding of the physical world, I think it’s equally valuable to scrutinize our views on faith.

Obviously, there are many who won’t agree with that last sentence. “Faith just is—it can’t be dissected or explained, nor does it require evidence or proof,” they will say. These types of beliefs that fall beyond the reach of questioning are typically referred to as dogmas. Some dogmas are silly, like believing in a Flying Spaghetti Monster who created the world with his noodly appendages. Others are much more ominous, like the idea that you can get into heaven by blowing up infidels. Although most of our beliefs are fairly inconsequential by comparison, ideas can easily become dangerous when not subject to reasonable doubt.

The problem is, it’s surprisingly difficult to doubt religious beliefs. Unlike semantic facts, which seem arbitrary to our personhood, religious values are tightly knit with our identity. They’re what we were taught as  a child and expected to believe now. They connect us to our communities. They provide refuge when life is uncertain. Consequently, when someone criticizes an idea related to our faith, it feels as though they’re attacking us personally.

In my own life, a good way to avoid personal offense is to simplify and consolidate the values I hold dear. This gives me room to examine my beliefs without always facing an identity crisis. I often enjoy hearing a radically different perspective because it usually enriches my worldview. Ironically, the people I initially disagree with the most tend to have almost identical core values as my own.

The main reason why I strongly advocate questioning aspects of faith is because our beliefs shape the way we interact with others. Spiritual ideas affect our attitudes, which affect our habits, which in turn affect our social behaviors. As a result, I think it’s imperative to adopt principles and ideologies that promote the wellbeing of others. Instead of relying on dogmas to create a moral framework, we must utilize intellect, empathy and integrity in order to live ethically. So in response to the question “Can we be good without God?” the answer is: definitely—it’s our belief in ourselves that allows us to be moral.