The Connection between Belief and Caring for Others

As a reminder, here are the big questions we want to address:

1. How do I live in such a way that I'll be satisfied with how I influence the world around me?
2. What am I passionate about? What personal life dream of mine creates greater wholeness in the world?
3. Where do I find a genuine sense of belonging? Where do I find authentic community? 
4. What fears get in my way? How can I dismantle those fears and understand what I actually want?
5. How can I get what I most deeply want and need by creating less suffering and greater wholeness?

You'll notice that at least three of those questions include some perspective about how we influence the world around us toward greater well-being (or "wholeness"). This is a topic that keeps coming up when I talk with believers, who often have an impression of atheism that equates with utter self-absorption. In one conversation a friend told me that a large number of people only do good in the world because of their belief in a higher power, and that without belief in a higher power, people would be less inclined to help others. I've also heard people say, "You can't really be an atheist. You care about [the homeless/people going hungry in our city/etc.], and atheists don't have any reason to care about other people." First, it's worth taking a look at this idea that only people who believe in a higher power create greater wholeness in the world. Then, we'll see something even more interesting about people doing good in the world. We'll wind up someplace we've been before, a guiding principle that helps us answer our big questions with integrity.

To begin with, it doesn't take much education about world religions to notice that all of them have something to say about making a positive difference in other people's lives. If it was just one religion that promoted creating wholeness in the world, then we would have something to compare and contrast. In reality, contributing toward the well-being of others is something every belief system holds in common, even though some practitioners choose to draw narrow boundaries around who they feel responsible to. 

People can actually hold two opposing ideas in their heads at the same time. This creates a bit of anxiety and it certainly lacks integrity, but people do it all the time. So, a believer can claim that their loving supernatural wants its followers to be vessels of love and healing in the world and also proclaim hatred for people of a different religion or of a particular sexual orientation. How well practitioners of various religions carry out the mandate to care for other human beings varies widely, but the fact remains that every religious tradition expresses a concern for the well-being of others. This is true of monotheistic, polytheistic, and atheistic traditions.

This suggests that it isn't actually belief in a higher power that inspires people to care for others, but something inherent in human nature. Every religion invented by human beings includes this concern, so it's obviously a human concern. We know that it's important to care for others and to attend to their well-being. Our internal guidance system has naturally included this subroutine. 

We also seem to feel burdened enough by the magnitude of that task that we find ways to put fences up around who we're willing to care for. "We'll care for people who think like us, but we'll still hate those other people over there." Or even more predatory, "We'll meet your needs, if you convert to our religion." Our tendency to corrupt ideas because of our fear clearly plays a role in how we carry it out, but this idea that we ought to care for other people is inherent to every belief system human beings have constructed. Thus, we can reason that it's a human idea that can persist in the absence of belief in the supernatural.

We need not rely on reason alone, however. Research on altruistic behavior continues to affirm that helping other people is an inherently pleasurable human activity, regardless of one's faith identity. Even more intriguing is a study published late last year (in Current Biology vol. 25, issue 22), which discovered that children raised without a religious identity are more generous and have a greater sensitivity to justice than peers raised with a religious identity. The study observed primarily Christian, Muslim, and nonreligious families, in six different countries, including the United States. Across all cultures, children in religious households actually expressed less care for others in terms of generosity and justice, despite their belief in a higher power. Clearly, caring for other people is a human trait that exists strongly in the absence of belief in a supernatural. Why and how might belonging to a religious tradition dampen that human tendency?

The research does not delve into reasons why, so this is merely a hypothesis extrapolated from other things we know about how the mind works. Is it possible that when you believe human beings are corrupted and evil that you have less tendency to care about people -- especially people you don't know? Or is it possible that this serves as an excuse to behave as though you are corrupted and evil sometimes? After all, that's just "human nature", right?

Is it possible that believing that a higher power is in control of everything alleviates some sense of personal responsibility to do what is within your power to do in terms of helping others? Believers don't often say it out loud, but if a god is in control of reality, that god must want a significant number of people to be hungry, homeless, abused, and marginalized, since that is the reality we can clearly see. Is it possible that people let themselves be less vulnerably caring because of their belief in a supernatural?

Is is possible that you care less about the people around you if you believe in an afterlife that isn't dependent on one's health, wealth, or success in the real world? After all, if what "really" matters is that you are spiritually aligned with the right higher power, then suffering in this life is superficial and unimportant. So, you don't have to care for the real physical and emotional needs of people -- you just have to make sure that they have the opportunity to be admitted into a better existence when they die. Even as I type this, it seems absurd and mean-spirited, and yet I know of some believers and even some service organizations that are more interested in "saving souls" than they are in making sure people have their physical and emotional needs met.

In a nutshell, then, I invite you to wonder along with me whether religious beliefs about a supernatural and about human nature actually serve to dampen the natural human tendency to care for others. Consider whether a subtle sabotage on the human capacity to create wholeness emerges through ideas promoted in various religious traditions that "salvation is by divine grace and not by human works", or that suffering will be rewarded in an afterlife, or that we are only really responsible to care for people who believe what we believe, or even just that human beings are wicked by nature. If our beliefs form the foundation of our actions, then there is something about religious beliefs that fuels actions contrary to the mandate to care for others. There is some reason the research finds that the beliefs of children in nonreligious homes allow them to express greater generosity and empathy. Even if my suppositions are off base, there is obviously some connection between belief system and how well a person can live into the human tendency to contribute to the well-being of others.

As we consider meaningful answers to the big questions we're posing to ourselves, it's vital for us to recognize our interconnectedness with others. Our lives influence and are influenced by other people. There is no way around that fact. It helps to have at least one clear guiding principle that aligns with our natural tendency to care about other people's well-being -- a deep value that undergirds the questions we ask and the answers we explore. I would like to suggest the very basic idea that every person has inherent worth and dignity as a shared guiding principle that fuels a meaningful journey toward a best possible version of oneself.

That every person has inherent worth and dignity means that we don't choose who is worthy of our attention. It isn't just people who think like you, and it isn't just people who are part of your local community. Every person means every human being in existence. This doesn't mean that you are compelled to meet the specific needs of every person, and it doesn't mean that a person's inherent worth is going to be easy to see all the time. What it means is that you get to choose how you will honor the inherent value of the people around you. 

That every person has inherent worth and dignity means that their worth isn't in question. Your actions toward them are the part you get to decide. You never have to figure out why a person is important or worthy of your time and attention. You don't have to try to fix them or convince them to believe something different that what they currently believe. And you don't have to worry about what sort of afterlife they'll experience. You can focus instead on how your actions and decisions contribute to greater well-being in their lives.

That every person has inherent worth and dignity also interestingly means that you have inherent worth and dignity. Your value is a natural human quality that doesn't come from some external force or stem from your decisions. It just is. It's part of what it means to be human to have worth and dignity. This means that you can worry less about your own value and the sense of obligation that sometimes accompanies caring for others. You don't have to earn inherent worth and dignity, and nothing can take it away from you. Which means that you can boldly do those things that fuel your passions and influence the world around you toward wholeness -- that you can care about what you really want without apology, and you can trust yourself to find ways to connect what you most deeply want with your natural tendency to care about the well-being of others. 

People care about other people. You don't really gain anything in this arena by believing in a supernatural. Even if you think it's your faith that undergirds your contribution toward other people's well-being, it isn't. People of every faith tradition and of no faith tradition care about other people, and the people with no faith tradition might actually do it a little better, based on recent research. If you're willing, let the idea that every person has inherent worth and dignity steep in your mind for a bit. That one guiding principle can fund a lifetime of growing more confident in yourself and your ability to contribute to greater wholeness in the world. 

Eschatos (for now)

Having concluded the gospel of John, I spent some time considering what to tackle next. The decision was difficult. Continuing with the second third of Isaiah would make a lot of sense, considering that so many believers mistakenly conclude that the book is about Jesus. (The "servant" in the book is more likely an idealized, emotionally mature person in the midst of an anxious society.) The letters of Paul, taken in any sequence, would be useful perhaps, since many of the Christianities that exist today are based more on Paul's flawed thinking than on any of the Christ narratives. Especially with regard to judging people who seem different, Christians frequently rely on the words of Paul to condemn others and spread fear.

However, even these compelling possibilities seem uninspiring, at least for now. Thus, the title "Eschatos" -- last things, endings. I have accomplished several things that I set out to demonstrate when I began this exercise. First, I have shown that meaning can be derived from a text without assuming the historical accuracy of the story in the text. Second, I have shown how one might discard harmful assertions from "sacred" texts in order to bring one's beliefs into alignment with one's deepest values. Third, and perhaps most importantly, I have consistently reflected an atheist/Humanist philosophy that holds human beings in high regard and forms a credible foundation for ethical and moral behavior. I have freely interpreted the text through a lens of my own choosing, as every interpreter does, such that the Bible was brought into alignment with the guiding principle that every person has inherent worth and dignity.

It should be noted that some of the text had to be dismissed or refuted in order to do this. This is because the Bible is a flawed document written by imperfect human beings who often didn't know what to do with their anxiety and fear. Yet, I don't really think anything I have written here will convince someone to read things with an open mind if they're prone to believe in a literal translation of the text. And those who are willing to read things with an open mind don't need my encouragement to do so. In any case, I don't need to continue with this particular project in order to demonstrate how you might first clarify your own guiding principles, and then read whatever text you choose to read with an eye toward deepening your integrity and aligning more intentionally with your deepest, most noble self.

I originally chose the Bible because it's such a strong influence in Western culture, much more so than Buddhist writings, for instance, which might more easily line up with my Humanist assertions. Recently, though, I've been saddened by how flippantly some believers use biblical texts as weapons to harm others. The ideas of bigotry and fear, practices of injustice and hatred, even acts of profound dishonesty and abuse are sanctified by words from this collection of texts that ought have no more importance than any other ancient document.

It is clear that a significant portion of the population interprets the words of the Bible as license to not learn how to think critically, as permission not to develop into fully human vessels of love and light that create wholeness. I find that I am repulsed by words that attribute human worth to the benevolence of a supernatural, not least of all because that imagined supernatural is also used to disguise hate as virtue and fear as righteous indignation. Where I may once have easily interpreted Humanist ideals out of a theistic text, I now find it abhorrent to in any way legitimize words that so many believers use to justify lazy, narrow-minded thinking that keeps people from wholeness rather than fueling a journey toward wholeness.

The idea that there is a supernatural who guards and guides human life is simply wrong. Abdicating one's personal responsibility to the will of an imaginary god is simply irresponsible. Human beings do not derive worth from anything outside of themselves, and they do not need to be cleansed or redeemed by a mystical sacrifice. Human beings have inherent worth and dignity. This means that there is nothing a person needs to do to earn the status of being enough. And there is nothing that can take human worth away from anybody.

Human beings are still flawed. We still give in to our anxiety, and we let our fear make decisions for us. An even more flawed mythology isn't going to help us deal with these issues. What we need is to take responsibility for our own part in the greater system of humanity. Human beings are capable of growing in their emotional maturity. Human beings are capable of developing integrity. Human beings are capable of doing the work of creating wholeness in their lives and in the lives of others. And we don't need a god to do these things. And we don't need a sacred book.

Sacred books and gods are convenient, it's true. But they are also easily abused without dispute. Legitimizing belief in a god for the sake of empowering people to do good things in the world unfortunately opens the door for belief in a god to empower people to feel justified in hatred, fear, and violence. As a species, for the last two thousand years, we have failed to teach people to use their myths properly. Thus, it is better to work to discard the myths and replace them with something more useful and better suited to the task of human development.

There are some tools that are necessary to do a certain job, even though they could be dangerous. We keep those tools around because they are useful, and we take precautions that they are used and kept in a way that maintains a level of safety. It would be irresponsible to do otherwise. Belief in a god is not a necessary tool. For the creation of wholeness, for developing greater integrity, for recognizing the inherent worth and dignity of every person, for growing in emotional maturity, belief in a god is unnecessary. More importantly, belief in a god frequently keeps people from creating wholeness, developing integrity, recognizing human worth, and growing in emotional maturity. When a tool is unnecessary and dangerous, the responsible thing to do is to throw it out.

You can say, "Those people don't believe in the god I believe in. The god I believe in is wonderful." That's nice. You don't need it. If you want the luxury of keeping a tool around because you find it convenient, despite the harmful things so many people do with that tool, I believe it is your responsibility to teach people how to use that tool properly. If you want to hang on to your supernatural, it is not alright that you stand by and watch people do abusive, hateful, fear-driven things in the name of your supernatural. You are responsible for how you allow others to use your tools. If you want belief in a god to remain in public usage, you are responsible for speaking out boldly for what kind of god you're willing for that to be. The people I hear speaking out boldly for their god are only saying things that reflect their fears and anxieties veiled in religiosity.

For me, belief in a god is unnecessary, and sacred texts are unnecessary. These things are too dangerous for me to continue accepting and legitimizing them. Accepting the premise of the importance of the Bible has become a distraction from delighting in life and creating wholeness. I'm grateful for your attention as a reader, and I hope that my words have been meaningful to you thus far. My hope for you is that you find ways to deepen your own connection to your deepest most noble self in everything that you read, and that you continually recognize the truth, beauty, and creativity within you. Live into a best possible version of yourself, and the result will be a better world.

Response to a recent comment

In response to Casting Out Demons, Laura wrote:

You seem to be limiting your view to only what you can measure and scientifically verify. Those tools are limited to the natural world, yet you are applying them to the supernatural world. It's like that old adage about the flea that denies the existence of the dog because the dog is simply too big to see.

You're right, people are incredible, and the world is amazing. People are also awful, and the world is a very cruel and unfair place, as seen daily in nature. You seem to focus on just the good in people (i.e., the divine self) and not on the very real, completely inexplicable evil that also exists in the human heart.

Thankfully we live in a part of the world where we can easily choose a very sheltered life. Is it a coincidence that atheism correlates with wealth and relative comfort?

Such a worldview certainly makes for a satisfying journey, as you stated, but it only reflects a partial reality. As I said, it would be really nice if the world were that simple!

Laura, you make a few assertions in your comment: (1) the supernatural should be considered a meaningful part of our reality while remaining free from the constraints of scientific measurement and verification, (2) that the flavor of atheism to which I subscribe is a convenience of the sheltered and privileged that fails to fully acknowledge the cruelness and unfairness of the natural world, and (3) that inexplicable evil exists within human beings. Although a meaningful response will be lengthy, I believe it is important to take each of these in turn.

Belief in the supernatural is on the one hand harmless and endearing. If I choose to believe that fairies sprinkle diamond drops of dew along the spider webs in my yard each morning, or that the spirits of my dead ancestors give me comfort and guidance, what harm can that possibly do in the world? Yet, belief in the supernatural is powerful and easily abused precisely because its assertion requires no proof. The vast majority of human violence is the result of religious beliefs or beliefs that are bolstered by religious conviction. Believers maintain their beliefs in the face of contradictory evidence for any number of reasons, but the actual data suggests that religion does far more harm than good globally. The surprising thing is that human beings have more or less dismissed much of their ancestors’ mythologies. We no longer worship many of the gods people worshipped in ancient times because knowledge and reason eliminated the need for them. Once we realize the natural structure of the solar system, it becomes silly to believe that a flaming chariot is driven across the sky every day by a super-being. If we did not rely on scientific proofs, we could be justified in any belief, like the belief that black people don’t have souls – something white Americans believed not so long ago. Why did we stop believing this? It isn’t because the Bible suddenly appeared and taught us differently. In fact, religion was used to subjugate those deemed to be lesser, as it has consistently done throughout history.

So, how do I determine that my thoughts are not being beamed into my head by aliens? How do I assess whether I will be able to drive my car safely without gremlins taking control of it and causing me harm? How do I trust that the food I eat hasn’t been laced with nanites by a shadow government? There is no way to disprove any of these beliefs if I must also consider evidence that cannot be measured or evaluated by scientific means. Yet, I know that none of these things is true as much as I can know anything else. For one thing, there is no recorded instance of any of these things happening to anyone anywhere, although people may have invented stories about such things. I can certainly imagine what it might be like to try to drive a gremlin-infested car, but I know the difference between my imagination and reality. In my imagination, all sorts of things are possible, but when I restrict my perception of reality to only those things which are observable by some scientific means, the likelihood of certain events reduces to nil.

The natural world is certainly wondrous, and there are plenty of things we still haven’t figured out. But, as a famous thinker once said, “That which can be asserted without evidence can be dismissed without evidence.” Until there is some way to observe, measure, and repeat instances of spiritual forces, such things must be dismissed in order for us to live in a sane world. Believing in demons or angels makes no more sense than believing that a chariot of fire is driven across the sky every day. The difference is that we have clear evidence about what the sun is, and the definition of spiritual forces has been so constructed as to evade scientific examination, which makes it highly suspicious when subjected to rational scrutiny.

While that in and of itself is enough for a thinking person to recognize how incredibly unlikely it is for angels and demons to exist, we fortunately have had some fantastic sports in the scientific community who have tried to verify things like faith healing. Presumably, the thinking was that if something is undetectable by scientific observation one might still be able to detect its impact on the world, so even if we can’t see demons or angels, perhaps we can see some trace evidence of their impact. As one might expect, the scientific examinations of faith healing, demonic possession, psychic ability, and hauntings have all wound up at the same place. Not only is there no evidence that any of these things exist, there is evidence that these things do not exist. And when we have evidence that something does not exist, we must consider that thing to be unreal. There is no other rational option.

Your second claim regarding the connection between atheism and privilege stands on its own, apart from one’s conclusion about the supernatural. This suggestion simply does not stand up in light of current research. While the United States has more and more people who are willing to claim the label of “convinced atheist,” this is actually congruous with the rest of the world. In fact, 24 countries rank above the United States in the percentage of their populations that are convinced atheists, and not all of them are wealthy, sheltered places. While it’s true that the poorest countries do tend to be highly religious, this says much more about education level and political oppression than it does about any validity to their beliefs. Generally speaking, the more wealthy a population is, the better educated it is, and the more educated a population is, the less religious it will be.

It is also worth questioning why some of the most violent places in the world also rank high in terms of religiosity. Religious assertions often promote intolerance, because highly religious people tend to feel threatened by opposing views. Intolerance easily becomes violence, especially when backed by the approval of a deity (or at least a representative of a deity). Without the religious incentive, much of the intolerance in the world would be declawed, more easily mitigated through rational means. Such efforts are impossible when one or both sides believe that their every effort is supported by a deity who will at the very least reward them in an afterlife for standing firm in their faith. Why does this continue to be acceptable to us?

You are absolutely right that there is unfairness in the world. Some animals are born the runt of the litter, and they just don’t have the same chances of survival their siblings have. Some animals wind up being food for other animals. Some plants wind up choking out other plants. Some people are born into wealthy families. Some people are born with birth defects. There is no sense of reward and punishment for anything that anyone has done, and thus there is no fairness about the natural world. We are all very fortunate even to be breathing, and that’s enough to generate a bit of gratitude.

But there is nothing cruel about any of this. Cruelty implies intelligence, or at least malicious intent, and the world is simply not malicious. It can’t be. The world doesn’t have any opinions about us or any other creature, malevolent or benevolent. We think of things as unfair and cruel because we want there to be a sense of justice. We want to make sense of things, and we get frustrated when we can’t. We can observe that dumb luck plays a big role in the universe without anthropomorphizing reality into something that is either for or against us.

Seeing the injustices in the world and recognizing it as human-created is powerful. Our worldview evolves profoundly when we recognize that people born in wealthy nations did nothing to deserve being born in wealthy nations, and people in poor nations did nothing to deserve being born in poor nations. While a religious person may look at the world and assume that everything is working according to a divine plan, an atheist more easily recognizes that if we want anything to improve for ourselves and anyone else, the ball is in our court. If there is no deity responsible for taking care of everything, then it is up to us to take a bit of responsibility for the world we inhabit. So, far from looking at the world through rose-colored glasses, I would say that my atheism better equips me to see the world as it is and recognize that what I do matters.

This is certainly complicated by people, which speaks to your argument that people hold within them inexplicable evil. People do some atrocious things to one another and to themselves. It is a challenge to see the inherent worth and dignity in some people, to be sure, and yet every time I look for it, it’s there. The world is beautiful in spite of its natural unfairness, and people are beautiful despite their atrocities. You might say that good and evil both exist in the human heart, but I would amend that. What you see as evil, I see as evidence of fear.

I believe that, at their core, people are “good.” Beautiful. Creative. Worthy. Capable. Honest. What we typically see of people, however, is the fear and anxiety we all carry around. From a very early age, we are taught to be afraid. Some of the lessons we learn are intentional: Hot stoves will burn your fingers. Bad people go to Hell. Strangers are going to hurt you. And some of the lessons we learn are not so intentional: If Daddy’s mad, it’s my fault. I have to try really hard to measure up. Bullies always get their way. The beliefs we carry around about ourselves, other people, and the world cover over our innate beauty, creativity, and capability. We stop trusting ourselves and other people at a certain point and put more faith in our anxiety.

Here’s the thing: we will always prove ourselves right. Whatever we believe, we will always find enough evidence to maintain our conviction. We must. We have invested so much time and energy into our beliefs that it is important for us to keep finding ways to validate those lies and fears, even in the face of profound contradictions. It requires courage and integrity to assess our beliefs honestly and determine whether they truly measure up to reality --  whether our beliefs lead us to behave in a way that reflects who we most want to be in the world. If you believe that there is evil in everyone’s heart, you will see evidence of that. I believe that most folks are running around fearful, and I find that I can be compassionate toward them. I don’t ignore the horrible things that people do to themselves and others, but I recognize that they are, after all, just people. They have inherent worth and dignity, and they are prone to acting on their fears in order to soothe irrational anxiety. That doesn’t seem inexplicable to me at all.

Thus, while it isn't always easy to live it out, I maintain that it really is as simple as this: People matter. When I start there, I am never disappointed with where I wind up, and I firmly believe that this simple truth can change the world.