Because It Works!

A Secular Explanation on Morals, Science, and Reason

One of the biggest objections on secular thinking and freethought is the question: How can you trust *blank* without *blank*? 

Our society has become so intertwined with theistic thinking that it's virtually impossible for them to consider the possibility of a life without one. They base their activities, their purpose and their meaning on the assumption of a divine supervisor.

Well, obviously that's not necessarily true. The important thing to ponder on this subject is, religion does not have a monopoly on meaning, truth, and purpose. Science, reason and empathy can generate those equally, and in some cases, better than religion. But since religion, especially the monotheistic corporations, have so much influence and power over these subjects, secular thinking just cannot fully lay out their alternative views on life and purpose.

Thus, questions like these are often asked by the believers who, by the teachings of their dogmatic doctrines, have assumed that life and reason without their deity is impossible.

How can you trust your moral judgment if you have no absolute moral law-giver?

Absolute laws are for robots. Laws tell us what to do, not how to do.  The thing about absolute moral laws is, it's inherently dictatorial. It attempts to unite all people under a set of rules. But of course, that's nonsense.

NO ONE has the authority to impose standards. Does that mean we should be rudderless and lawless? No, of course not. The absence of absolute laws does not make us barbaric and immoral in anyway, because we have a goal. A natural goal that emerges universally in all cultures and species.

That goal is simply, the promotion of well-being, comfort, and survival of one another, and the promotion of progress of society. This is where we non-believers base our morals from. Why? Because it works! By working to achieve these goals, we actually survive and progress. It works, and there's no need for standards and absolute laws to achieve this goal, just the same as you don't need to have a specific hammer to be able to drive a nail down. If an act promotes well-being, survival and progress, it's a morally good act, period.

One may ask, can we trust these goals to incite us with a good moral judgment? Well, yes. Why? Because this is a natural, universal phenomenon. As social animals, we have evolved to have this innate sense of cooperation and kindness towards one another. Colonies of ants, hive of bees, prides of lions, packs of wolves, and families of apes all exhibit this behavior. Social animals tend to develop a goal to value cooperation and well-being for the benefit of the community that they're in. This behavior, this goal is of natural origin. We can trust it, because it's been refined through evolution, and it works. 

How can you trust science or the scientific method if it's the product of flawed men?

I think I'm just going to quote Richard Dawkins on this one.

"[Because] it works!  Planes fly, cars drive, computers compute. If you base medicine on science, you cure people. If you base the design on planes on science, they fly. If you base the design of rockets on science, they reach the moon. It works, bitches!"

Need I say more?

Yes, he actually said that.

  
How can you trust your own thoughts if it's just chemicals and molecules interacting?

This is just like saying, "how can I trust the answer in my calculator if it's just electrons pushing one another inside?" Sounds silly? Of course! We trust the calculator because we know that it's not just mere electrons. It formulates answers based on the whole circuitry of many electrons interacting with one another to produce results.

You see, degrading the definition of the brain to "just chemical reactions" doesn't get anyone anywhere. It just ignores the fact that nobody can still fully understand the nature of the mind and consciousness. Scientists know that there's more to our brain to discover and explain.  Attempting to reason out that we cannot trust our thoughts because nobody can still fully explain it is akin to asserting that we shouldn't trust gravity because nobody can fully explain it yet. Of course, inserting divinity through these unexplained areas simply calls for a god-of-the-gaps, and we all know how that would end.

The reason that I say this is because saying "our brain is just molecules, therefore we can't trust it unless there is a higher power, etc." is utterly nonsense. We have two solid reasons for trusting the thoughts emerging from our brain. One, our brain is changing. It can be refined, updated, and improved. Our thoughts continue to change in accordance with the change in our world. Second, because it works! Mathematics, logic and science emerged from our minds. Take a look around you.  The computer you're using, the shelter you're currently into, the technologies that we all take for granted, all of these are products of the human brain. We may not be able to explain it fully, but the fact that it works completely justifies our trust in it. Even if it tries to fool us sometimes.

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Minds are like parachutes.

Minds are like parachutes.
They only function when they are open.
- Sir James Dewar


TF launches its new promotional poster in line with one their projects this year. TF aims to increase the number of their members and reach out to more Thomasians who value reason, freethought and secularism.

This year, TF is planning projects like holding lecture-discussions, publishing pamphlets, and of course, maintaining the official blog. A documentary film showing hosted by TF is scheduled on Saturday, June 22, 2013 at iChill Theatre Cafe. Regular meetups are also being planned.

TF is looking forward to a productive 2013 for all its members.

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On Death without Afterlife

Billions and Billions: Thoughts on Life and Death at the Brink of the Millennium, published by in 1997, is the last book written by renowned American astronomer and science popularizer Carl Sagan before his death in 1996.

The book is a collection of essays Sagan wrote covering diverse topics like global warming, the population explosion, extraterrestrial life, morality, and the abortion debate. The last chapter is an account of his struggle with myelodysplasia, the disease which finally took his life in December 1996. (read more)

The following is an excerpt from the last chapter, In the Valley of the Shadow.

I would love to believe that when I die I will live again, that some thinking, feeling, remembering part of me will continue. But as much as I want to believe that, and despite the ancient and worldwide cultural traditions that assert an afterlife, I know of nothing to suggest that it is more than wishful thinking.
I want to grow really old with my wife, Annie, whom I dearly love. I want to see my younger children grow up and to play a role in their character and intellectual development. I want to meet still unconceived grandchildren. There are scientific problems whose outcomes I long to witness—such as the exploration of many of the worlds in our Solar System and the search for life elsewhere. I want to learn how major trends in human history, both hopeful and worrisome, work themselves out: the dangers and promise of our technology, say; the emancipation of women; the growing political, economic, and technological ascendancy of China; interstellar flight.

If there were life after death, I might, no matter when I die, satisfy most of these deep curiosities and longings. But if death is nothing more than an endless dreamless sleep, this is a forlorn hope. Maybe this perspective has given me a little extra motivation to stay alive.

The world is so exquisite, with so much love and moral depth, that there is no reason to deceive ourselves with pretty stories for which there's little good evidence. Far better, it seems to me, in our vulnerability, is to look Death in the eye and to be grateful every day for the brief but magnificent opportunity that life provides.

We all have a tendency to succumb to a state of despair about the destructiveness and shortsightedness of the human species. I've certainly done my share (and on grounds I still consider well-based). But one of the discoveries of my illness is the extraordinary community of goodness to which people in my situation owe their lives.

Five thousand people prayed for me at an Easter service at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York City, the largest church in Christendom. A Hindu priest described a large prayer vigil for me held on the banks of the Ganges. The Imam of North America told me about his prayers for my recovery. Many Christians and Jews wrote me to tell about theirs. While I do not think that, if there is a god, his plan for me will be altered by prayer, I'm more grateful than I can say to those— including so many whom I've never met—who have pulled for me during my illness.

Many of them have asked me how it is possible to face death without the certainty of an afterlife. I can only say it hasn't been a problem. With reservations about "feeble souls," I share the view of a hero of mine, Albert Einstein:

"I cannot conceive of a god who rewards and punishes his creatures or has a will of the kind that we experience in ourselves. Neither can I nor would I want to conceive of an individual that survives his physical death; let feeble souls, from fear or absurd egotism, cherish such thoughts. I am satisfied with the mystery of the eternity of life and a glimpse of the marvelous structure of the existing world, together with the devoted striving to comprehend a portion, be it ever so tiny, of the Reason that manifests itself in nature."

- Carl Sagan, 1996

A pdf version of this book is available. Download here.

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