There Are Four Lights

Check out my post over at Skeptic North for all my new holiday art in one place!

Why writers should move beyond The Hero’s Journey

Storytelling is a wonderful platform to share a message. Instead of making an argument through writing an essay, a story can place the reader in a scenario where they can empathize with characters and become emotionally involved in the message the author wants to convey. Entertainment is at its best when the story has meaning, but ever since Joseph Campbell and George Lucas hooked up to cross-promote each other’s work—Campbell using the popularity of Star Wars to boost his mono-myth theory of mythology and Lucas using the Hero’s Journey to lend a sense of intellectual credibility to his popcorn space adventure flicks—Hollywood has been obsessed with churning out cookie-cutter Campbellian scripts that follow the Hero’s Journey formula. The formula does more than just stifle creativity, it contains a framework which will nearly always produce the same message, one based in pre-Enlightenment thinking that hero’s are born not made, humans require rule from divinity, and problems can only be resolved through spiritual metamorphosis. I say it’s time to let go of this Eurocentric, often misogynistic writing formula and mystical view of the world and begin celebrating the humanist ideals from the age of reason through the art of storytelling.

Let’s compare the mono-myth poster child, Star Wars, with the ode to secular humanism that is Gene Roddenberry’s Star Trek. It should be said that I’m a big fan of both these series. But when Lucas and Campbell told us to take the Star Wars Saga seriously, as a means of finding deep truth, that’s when I become critical of the story. Star Wars is a great space adventure and highly entertaining, but when it comes to being a model for journeying through life, it’s a giant step back into the dark ages.

When you take a close look at the meaning behind the world of Star Wars, you quickly notice it is one rule by theocracy. Whether it’s the ‘dark side’ of the Sith or the ‘light side’ of the Jedi, those who rule do so by divine right. Luke Skywalker is our hero because it’s his birthright; he was born into the royal bloodline of the Knighthood. You can’t simply work hard to become a Jedi, you need to be born one. The purpose of the common man, like Han Solo, is to serve and protect those of royal blood, like Luke and Leia. Luke is our savior not because he practiced hard to become good with a targeting computer, but because he has privileged access to divine powers. This is all good fun when used simply as escapism, but as David Brin points out in “Star Wars despots vs. Star Trek populists” the message behind Star Wars is one of anti-democratic, elitist ideals.

Star Trek is great escapism too, but if you wish to draw greater meaning from it you’ll find a forward-facing philosophy based in secular humanism where all humans are created equal and their greatness is based on their own merits, free from dogma and the supernatural. James T. Kirk wasn’t given command of the Enterprise through birthright; he earned the title of Captain through his own talent and hard work. The Federation set out on its mission of exploration not by sending lone knights out into the galaxy, but by organizing into cooperative crews who rely on one another to succeed. Roddenberry’s vision for humanity was a future centered on democracy and rationality. This message is far more useful to modern life than the backward-looking theocracy of that galaxy far far away.

In addition to Star Wars, another saga often identified as an example of “modern myth” is J.R.R Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings. But, again, the messages found in this tale are anything but helpful in creating a free, modern society. Instead of Jedi, the humans of Middle Earth are ruled by kings, and those kings are subject to the watchful eyes of wizards and immortals. The Ringwraths are the worst examples of how humans should behave; they desire the power of the ring, a man-made object which bestows power to mortal man. How dare they seek the knowledge to become equals with their divine rulers? I reference David Brin again as he points out in his article, “J.R.R. Tolkien – Enemy of Progress”, how the trilogy romanticizes monarchy and privileged knowledge:

“…pain and damnation await any mortal whose ambition aims too high. Don’t try putting on the trappings or emblems or powers that rightfully belong to your betters. Above all, don’t try to decipher and redistribute mysteries.”

There is, however, a more recent “modern-myth” fantasy saga which does indeed promote post-Enlightenment ways. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter series uses modern day witches and wizards to go against the idea that a special class of elites is entitled to rule based on bloodlines. The protagonists fight for the idea that both non-magical humans (muggles), witches and wizards born in non-magical families (muggle-borns), and those who grew up completely in the magical world (pure-bloods) are all equal, against the antagonists who believing the pure-bloods deserve to rule over what they consider to be lower class people. There is an emphasis throughout the books that it takes more than supernatural ability to succeed, as is demonstrated in the first book when Hermione and Harry need to pass the sixth barrier to the Philosopher’s Stone. The barrier tests their ability to reason and not their ability to use magic, “’Brilliant,’ said Hermione. ‘This isn’t magic – it’s logic – a puzzle. A lot of the greatest wizards haven’t got an ounce of logic, they’d be stuck in here forever.’” This is far from the romanticizing of classism and divine power contained in the mythic journeys of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings.

The Harry Potter series is often analyzed as another example of the Hero’s Journey in action. However, I find that the series exposes the major weaknesses in the Hero’s Journey theory of storytelling. It reveals the model for what it is—-a series of generalizations so vague that it can be made to fit nearly any adventure story. The seven book series, with a combined 4000+ pages, has enough content that one could find almost any desired pattern in its over 900 000 words. You can find multiple examples in it from the list of Hero’s Journey ingredients, but so many as to become meaningless as a useful formula. Harry Potter contains trials, supernatural aid, many magical mentors, and many thresholds to be crossed because that’s what an adventure story is. The one element that the Hero’s Journey contains which makes it anything more than just a list of common adventure story traits is also the one element the Harry Potter series lacks; a spiritual metamorphosis. Harry doesn’t undergo any spiritual transcendence during his seven year journey through Hogwarts.

Harry’s core traits remain the same from beginning to end. He doesn’t transform himself or his beliefs in order to resolve the conflict of the series. From the very beginning and throughout all seven books, he is willing to sacrifice his life to protect those he loves. He never has to come to this through revelation. What prepares him for this purpose isn’t faith, in fact, he is inspired to set out to do what he was always willing to do—-give up his life—-not by taking a leap of faith but by learning the missing pieces of information in a puzzle and receiving evidence (Snape’s memories) that what he’s planning to do really is the right solution. In his world, with magical laws of physics, the removal of the piece of Voldemort’s soul from his own is no more a spiritual transformation than would be the surgical removal of unwanted growth. It doesn’t change him, it’s simply another physical task that needs to take place—-all the Horcruxes need to be destroyed, and Harry just happens to be one of several. When this is done, Harry’s spirit isn’t changed; he’s still the brave, self-sacrificing Gryffindor from the first book. The only changes are ‘physical’ traits (in the magical sense)…he’s no longer a Horcrux, he’s no longer a Parselmouth, and he no longer has a psychic connection with Voldermort. He never feared death and he never becomes master of two worlds. To apply the Hero’s Journey to Harry is to miss the real message of the series: how to deal with death.

Harry Potter is not a tale of a mystic warrior seeking union with the divine. It’s a story that makes an argument about the role of death in our lives and does so by illustrating the differences between the Potter family and the Riddle family. Harry and his parents are willing to accept death because they value life. Harry’s mother sacrifices her life out of love for her son so he can live. Voldermort, aka Tom Riddle, is left orphaned by his mother because she lets herself die over the grief that his father left them. This illustrates the important difference between Harry’s mother, willing to die for her son, and Tom’s mother, not willing to live for her son. The picture Rowling portrays through the story is that the good characters will risk death to protect the lives of others, while the evil ones risk the lives of others to protect themselves. It is Voldemort, not Harry, who seeks spiritual transcendence beyond the mortal world (by, you know…going on a murderous rampage to split his soul into seven pieces). As writer Jim Hull points out in “Not Everything Is A Hero’s Journey”,

“There can be nothing more destructive to the world of storytelling than this compulsion for spiritual metamorphosis. Stories are about solving problems. Sometimes, solving those problems require the centerpiece of a story, the Main Character, to undergo a major transformation in how they see the world. Sometimes they don’t.”

Harry doesn’t have to transform his worldview in order to complete his story.

Although Star Trek is one of the best examples of storytelling promoting secular humanist ideals—-ways of thinking which are critical to human flourishing—-you don’t have to confine yourself to science-fiction, as I believe Harry Potter demonstrates. Fantasy adventures, even if they have supernatural elements, can convey messages about humanism and critical thinking if the deeper meaning of the story isn’t preoccupied with mysticism. We hang onto to stories about heroes born ‘the chosen one’ and immortals with divine power because we yearn to feel special and to have the comfort of higher powers watching over us. It’s fine to have these tales to innocently escape to, but if we’re going use stories to help us create a map for living we need to grow up and look to forms of storytelling which teach us the values of reason, humanism, and secular thinking.

Elizabeth Gilbert’s best seller, Eat Pray Love, is now a feature film starring Julia Roberts. The combination of the film’s release and my search for new books to read on my iPad (I’m finally back from travelling, returning from busy cities to my small, quiet hometown with limited choices in leisure activities) prompted me to give the famous self-help book a chance. I have a respect for Gilbert, since I was at TED 2009 when she gave a TED talk around her new book, Committed. It’s obvious she has a new age slant, but she is also a well-spoken, intelligent, and talented individual.

Eat Pray Love is a well written book. I really enjoyed her style of storytelling; one of my favourite scenes is when she personifies depression and loneliness as two detectives who have tracked her down during her travels. Unfortunately, it’s the content of the book I had trouble with. But you might be thinking, “Sara, why would you read this kind of book?” and indeed, it’s valid to point out that I’m not exactly the book’s target audience. My interest and passion is in promoting science and critical thinking through art and storytelling, but I have a great deal of respect for TEDsters and if I’m going to read a book that contrasts this philosophy it’s going to be from an author who’s spoken at a conference of the world’s leading thinkers and doers.

The book is a memoir of a point in Gilbert’s life where she goes through a divorce and then takes a year to travel to Italy, India, and Indonesia to ‘find God’ and find herself. My biggest frustration—which seemed to colour the rest of the book for me—was that she was obviously going through major depression. She writes about this herself, how she became depressed as she was going through divorce while simultaneously starting a new, drama-filled relationship. I couldn’t help wondering if depression was what started her problems, rather than it being a result of them. One of the early chapters explains how miserable she was even before her marriage dissolved, “My husband was sleeping in our bed. I was hiding in the bathroom for something like the forty-seventh consecutive night, and—just as during all those nights before—I was sobbing”. She comes to the conclusion that she doesn’t want to be married anymore. For privacy reasons, she doesn’t go into any details of what exactly made her unhappy concerning her husband. She paints a picture of a woman with a ‘perfect life’ who is mysteriously unhappy.

In my mind, a quite plausible reason for her unhappiness is depression. Depression isn’t simply persistent sadness; it’s a deep feeling of hopelessness that takes away your ability to find joy or pleasure in anything. Whatever the reason for her life crisis, it didn’t seem like this was given any consideration as a cause of her growing feelings of dissatisfaction and loss of self. It’s possible that the reason for this is that those who suffer from the illness can feel as though there is something wrong with who they are or how they are living and that if they could only change themselves and their life they would feel better—a new career, a new city, a new relationship. The problem with depression is that it can distort your perception of life in a negative way, regardless of any genuine problems. I can’t imagine how one could begin to make a distinction until the illness is treated.

This brings me to the problem I had with the first portion of the book, “Eat”, where she is spending time in Italy, trying to learn how to relax and find pleasure in life. One of the biggest barriers to treatment of depression can be the taboo of mental illness. About ten days into her visit to Italy, she begins to feel depressed again, “I’d stopped taking my medication only a few days earlier. It had just seemed crazy to be taking antidepressants in Italy. How could I be depressed here?” She continues to explain her ‘long list of personal objections’ to being on medication even though she admits to clearly needing medication and even more, that it actually helped her immensely. Despite all this, she clings to the taboo and a list of justifications for doing so (like her belief that Americans are overmedicated, which, to me, seems completely irrelevant to one’s own personal health).

This irrationality made it difficult to go through the next portion of the book, “Pray”, and her stay at an ashram in India. I can set aside my distaste for the cliché of an upper-middle class Caucasian turning to cherry-picking Eastern religions when faced with dissatisfaction. What’s hard is trying not to see this personal journey of hers as a depressed women running away from evidence-based medicine to the more emotionally appealing fantasy of a spiritual rebirth. My science-based worldview would prompt me to ask why someone would rather believe they are personally flawed, needing a complete life overhaul, than face depression as a health issue. Even though it is a painful and difficult illness, wouldn’t that be better than having a defect with something as important as your very soul? She even mentions her psychiatrist addressing her hesitation to take antidepressants “If you had a kidney disease, you wouldn’t hesitate to take medication for it”. Quite tellingly, Gilbert reveals she comes from “…a family who regard any sickness as a sign of personal, ethical, moral failure”.

It was that point of view of illness that gave me a new understanding of her motivations for embarking on her journey. There’s nothing sexy about taking medication; it can even feel like a sign of weakness (as if it brings up the image of medication being for the elderly…you know—-people who once had purpose trying to extend what small amount of time remains in their now irrelevant lives!). But spirituality is a romantic idea, especially seductive to those with a sense of dissatisfaction with life that leads them to seek ‘purpose’ and look for ‘answers’. We can imagine ourselves on a sort of Joseph Cambell-esque hero’s journey—the main character of an epic quest. There’s something that sounds quite noble about embarking on a quest of self discovery. In reality, the hardships of real action in the face of our troubles are greater than any struggles involved in looking inwards, and can require far more bravery. To me, following the path of the mystic can simply be a way to avoid hard work, to avoid actually doing something. It’s easier to take refuge inside ourselves, no matter how dark or difficult our inner world may seem, than to navigate the world around us which does not bend to our desires. Sometimes, we don’t have the luxury of going on a hero quest before doing real change in the world. You have to face life’s challenges as the person you are today.

Gilbert’s time in India results in 36 chapters of new age skyhookery. Whether it’s Western or Eastern philosophy being discussed, both seek the same ends; to become one with the cosmos (whether you call it god, the universe, a higher power, or enlightenment). What has always been interesting to me is that it is spirituality that creates the separation to begin with. It’s a vital part of the belief system. It separates us using souls, spirits, chakra, chi, ego, and spooky ideas about human consciousness. Scientific probing of the world reveals a true oneness with the universe—quite literally, we are made from the same material as everything else in the universe. Every atom in our body and in each breath we take was forged in the heart of star that burned for billions of years. Nor does it make the separation between “mind and body” that is so key to any spiritual practice. Science continues to make the argument that our mind is the product of the brain.

The reality is that the true goal of spirituality isn’t to become one with the universe or god. What mystics and gurus are chasing is happiness, “According to the mystics, this search for divine bliss is the entire purpose of a human life. This is why we all chose to be born, and this is why all the suffering and pain of life on earth is worthwhile—just for the chance to experience this infinite love”, Gilbert writes. It was coming to this realization that gave me a better understanding of spiritual thinking. When you’re an advocate of reason and evidence-based thinking, it’s hard to understand why anyone searching for truth wouldn’t be interested in using a method to evaluate claims and determine the quality of evidence. The confusion comes from mistaking truth and knowledge as what mystics are looking for. In spirituality, the search is for bliss, and if you can find some, one way to try and hold on to it is to pin it to reality as fundamental truth. The ‘bliss’ needs to also be the ‘truth’.

This new age mind set was expected and I was prepared for it. It’s not the fact that this spiritual mindset was there at all that bothered me. What I found disturbing is its correlation with desperate people trying to overcome hardship (Eat Prey Love?) and its use as a substitute for medical treatment, something which only got worse in the final portion of the book, “Love”, in Bali, Indonesia. Gilbert spends most of her time at the home of medicine man and at a small shop of a holistic healer.

It wasn’t the promotion of alternative medicine through countless naturalistic fallacies that troubled me. What I had a hard time with was the romanticizing of poverty involved in her Bali story. The villagers’ reliance on traditional medicine was shown as a virtue and sort of proof that these people live a simpler, natural, and therefore more moral existence, rather than the more plausible reality of being too poor to afford proper medical treatment. I kept getting the sense that any attention drawn to the reality of widespread poverty was balanced by a positive spiritual description of their society. We can feel better about their low economic status and archaic social structures because they are spiritually rich. This often leads to the tired idea that once people acquire wealth, economic and social prosperity their lives almost certainly become amoral and spiritually bankrupt.

As a story, Eat Pray Love is a well written and well constructed plot, with well written characters. It would be much improved if the actual events of her life were written about without so much of the self-help inner dialogue of ‘suggestions’. The introduction mentions that her writings about her experience in India is from a personal standpoint, “…and not as a theological scholar or as anybody’s official spokesperson”. However, the tone of the book seems to imply it is meant to be read as a guide, as anecdotal evidence that heading off on a journey of self-discovery will cure you from any personal life-crisis you may be going through. Even its title seems to be telling you to do something, as opposed to passively reading—After all, it’s not called Eating, Praying, Loving…look at what I did. No! Do what I did:

Eat, Pray, Love!

Last Wednesday, I spoke at the Center for Inquiry‘s monthly science cafe, Cafe Inquiry. The talk and Q&A afterwards has been uploaded to YouTube in six parts:

Part 1 is my introduction and my explanation of skepticism and why I think it’s important. I also touch on why new age magical thinking and spirituality can be so appealing and easier to promote. My goal is to use storytelling to show skeptical values as virtues.

Part 2 is an overview of manga and why I’ve chosen it as a medium to tell stories that promote skepticism. I also speak about some series that have inspired me in my approach to doing this—-which is also an excuse to talk about Masters of the Universe.

Part 3 is about my series I’m producing, Legend of the Ztarr, and how I hope it will convey messages about critical thinking and humanism.

The Q&A discussion that took place afterwards is also available:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Does God have a Future?
A Great Debate Filmed by ABC’s Nightline

Today, we attended a debate between Michael Shermer and Sam Harris vs. Deepak Chopra and Jean Houston. The debate was “Does God have a Future?” and will air on ABC Nightline on March 23rd. It was splendid  to see Shermer and Harris speak again, after each giving their own great talk, last month, at TED. Chopra was predictably absurd, dishing out his brand of woo juice cocktail—-new age pseudoscience post-modernism blended with faux quantum physics. Jean Houston, whom I’ve never heard of, was a complete embarrassment. I don’t recall anything relevant in her boring anecdotes.

I had a chance to ask a question, so I came up with one for Deepak. He had mentioned “deeper ways of knowing” and gave the impression that this was through intuition and repeatedly referred to “the subjective”. So I asked, “Without the objective scientifiic method, how can we distinguish what is true from what we simply want to be true?” Deepak answered this by saying he would answer my question, but that he didn’t want to answer any more questions after that. He then proceeded to not answer my question by doing his little Chopra word dance of nothingness.

Now, I know correlation doesn’t always mean causation, but if you want to interpret Chopra’s actions as being totally scared off by my question of skeptical awesomeness, I have no problem with that whatsoever!

Alternative medicine is a major public health risk. Untested and discredited treatments are promoted for just about any health problem you can imagine. Those who are most desperate are often the target of alt-med treatments, swooping in to provide an “alternative” or “complimentary” cure when real medicine, unfortunately, has been unsuccessful. There is one area, however, where the quack alternative treatment has established itself as the standard treatment: 12-step programs in the area of addiction.

Alcoholics Anonymous is the original 12 Step program, which has spawn a whole industry of recovery programs that basically copy-paste the 12 steps to deal with any addictive behaviour—-Narcotics Anonymous, Overeaters Anonymous, Workaholics Anonymous, Clutterers Anonymous, Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous, Online Gamers Anonymous, Smokers Anonymous, Emotions Anonymous—-the list goes on. There are also groups like Al-anon, where you don’t have to be an addict yourself, only someone being affected by one.

AA has been extremely successful in promoting itself as the most successful treatment for alcoholism. It markets itself as a non-denominational support group for alcohol abuse. Once inside the walls of its meetings, however, it’s clear that members are to understand that AA is the only treatment for alcoholism. It isn’t officially stated (in fact, the opening remarks are careful to say that the program is “widely regarded” as the most successful treatment), but if it isn’t implied in nearly every member’s ‘share’—-their anecdotal evidence that life without AA means relapse and death—-it is certainly the message of the AA bible “Alcoholics Anonymous”, referred to as The Big Book.

What is often said in the meetings and what is written in The Big Book contradict the public image of AA as a support group for those who wish to quite drinking. What the general public doesn’t know about AA is that it is a religious group which teaches its members that alcoholism is a spiritual disease with no cure and only by giving yourself up to God can one stay sober.

“Unless each A.A. member follows to the best of his ability our suggested Twelve Steps to recovery, he almost certainly signs his own death warrant.”
Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions, William G. Wilson, page 174.

Though it is argued that the Twelve Steps refer to a “power great than ourselves” and that ‘power’ can be anything you want, it is clear in the reading material that you are supposed to want that power to be God.

We found that as soon as we were able to lay aside prejudice and express even a willingness to believe in a Power greater than ourselves, we commenced to get results, even though it was impossible for any of us to fully define or comprehend that Power, which is God.
The Big Book, 3rd & 4th Editions, William G. Wilson, Page 46.

It is also clear that the goal of AA isn’t to stop abusing alcohol, but to serve God.

“At the moment we are trying to put our lives in order. But this is not an end in itself. Our real purpose is to fit ourselves to be of maximum service to God…”
The Big Book, William G. Wilson, page 77.

(My bold)

The magical thinking in AA is no different than that found in other alternative medicine. Like any typical spiritual healer, who will tell you that ‘negative energy’ is the cause of your cancer, AA attributes alcoholism to sins and moral shortcomings instead of alcohol consumption. In AA, being sober doesn’t mean simply not drinking. You are only sober if you have turned your will over to a power greater than yourself. Those who haven’t done this are labelled “dry drunks”. When their quack treatments don’t work, alternative medicine proponents will blame the patient. In the world of AA, if you overcome your addiction without the program (especially if you learn to drink in moderation), you were never an alcoholic in the first place.

But the most important feature of AA, true of any other alternative medicine, is that it doesn’t work. Those of us who advocate science based medicine make evidence of efficacy a requirement. The 12 Step industry deserves the same skepticism that we would apply to any other faith healing group…and people suffering from substance abuse and addiction deserve more than the “support” of a spiritual cult.

How much do you know about Alcoholics Anonymous and other 12 Step programs? It’s a support group, right? It’s safe to say it’s widely regarded as the most successful recovery program for addiction. Then again, accupuncture is widely regarded as a successful treatment for all kinds of illnesses but anyone familiar with science-based medicine knows it simply doesn’t work. So, why should 12 Step programs be treated with any less skepticism? After all, AA makes claims regarding the causes of and treatments for alcoholism. What evidence, if any, is there to support these claims?

“Undrunk: A Skeptic’s Guide to AA”, by A.J. Adams, seems anything but skeptical. That is, the word ‘skeptic’ seems to be used in the “I was skeptical, at first” kind of way…rather than referring to a person who evaluates claims based on evidence and the scientific method. Has AA escaped the attention of the science and skepticism community? Certainly, the 12 Step industry must be one of the most successful quackery organizations out there–embedding themselves into the medical industry as successfully as any alternative medicine woo–and branding themselves as secular more successfully than intelligent designers.

AA and its counterparts (there’s a 12 step program for just about any addiction) are anything but secular. Of course, any program member will tell you that atheists and agnostics are welcome…but the program is chuck-full of religion; only about four of the twelves steps make no use of god or spirituality. Dr. Harriet Hall wrote a great article over at Science-Based Medicine about AA and the lack of evidence for it’s effectiveness: AA is Faith-Based, Not Evidence-Based. Another resource I found is a blog called Stinkin Thinkin:

…[W]hat we’re doing is muckraking, in the time-honored sense of the word. AA and 12-Step is has a monopoly. Sure there are some alternatives, but none of these alternatives are offered in your general addictions treatment facility. And none of these alternatives have the power to lobby in Washington the way that AA does…to get insurance money

There is a group called SOS (Secular Organizations for Sobriety, or Save Our Selves) which provides non-religious support for alcoholism and drug addiction. I found some interesting articles about AA by browsing their site:

AA, as a doctor once told me, is “an evangelical movement about saving souls”. At its core it has a good heart – it wants to save people from their demons. But, as with the death penalty, McCarthyism, the Conquistadors and other such crusades against evil, the pious ambitions of AA make the movement blind to its own hooliganism. As disinterested in individuality as the SS, and unaccountable for its actions as the KKK, AA preaches, bullies and lies to achieve its ends, and it does so with all the righteous impunity of a secret sect. Unlike other religious cults, however, AA’s victims are those who escape from its grip and return to society, their brains so laundered by fundamentalist claptrap that a glass of beer can take on the menace of a loaded pistol. That I eluded such a fate myself is thanks to nothing but sheer good luck – those not as fortunate as I can’t tell us about it, their stools at the bars and chairs in AA inhabited by new people entirely disinterested in tales of the dead ones who went before them.

I know there’s a lot of woo for skeptics to deal with, but I think the 12 Step industry deserves more criticism from the skeptical community. AA isn’t an effective treatment, never mind the most effective treatment for alcoholism, and those suffering due to substance abuse deserve treatments which are evaluated for their safety and efficacy.

Hmm, hopefully I’ve mentioned here before that something I want to accomplish in my work is to create characters who are good role models as scientists and critical thinkers and to promote the use of reality-based reasoning and good skepticism. The movie “Knowing”, with Nicolas Cage, accomplishes the complete opposite. Scientists are drunken, miserable, lonely cranks that need to learn how to be happy from those who have blind faith in magic sky people.

The director, Alex Proyas, was quoted saying he wanted the movie to explore different viewpoints, “the scientific viewpoint of the logical construct of the universe and the one of faith, where people see this incredibly complex place we live in and go, ‘Well, how could this have all just happened randomly?’“ (my bold) This is one major annoyance with the film; it doesn’t even know what science is and what viewpoint it has. Again, audiences are getting the misguided message that science claims everything is random and stuff just happens by accident.

The irony is, unlike new age garbage like numerology, scientific theories actually do make accurate predictions for the world around us. Real predictions…not just after-the-fact pattern matching that happens with divination games like astrology, tarot, and psychic readings. You can use scientific theories to accurately launch a small rover into space and have it travel to another freakin’ planet and predict where it should land on that planet, hundreds of millions of kilometers away! Or you can have a theory like evolution, which predicted, about a hundred years before the discovery of genetics, that such a system should exist–it predicted the existence of an entirely new field of science!

Science is all about discovering how the world works and the cause behind the things we see and experience. It is faith that gives empty answers for why the world is the way it is; it’s faith that tells us that the big questions about the universe are infinitely mysterious and beyond our grasp.

And, frankly, it’s a little tiring to see the happy religious characters lecturing to grumpy miserable scientist characters in films and TV. The happiest people I know are scientifically minded and lead their lives free of faith and the supernatural. All the religious and new age people I know are quite unhappy, worry-full people, who always seem to be lost and unsure. Anecdotal, I know…

It’s not hard to see why such a horrible movie is doing so well at the box office. A lot of people are full of doubt, fear, and uncertainty about the future. It’s a comforting idea that there’s a magic solution that can warn us of danger and protect us against the unknown…and the only thing you have to do is keep believing, no matter what the facts tell you.

Just keep listening to the little voices inside your head–they know a lot more than the objective voice of reason coming from your MIT colleague.

Cage, you and your pseudoscience crapfest are forcing me to quote again:

For me, it is far better to understand the universe as it really is, than to persist in delusion, however satisfying or reassuring.

-Carl Sagan

If you’ve read any of this blog, you’ve probably guessed I’m an atheist–that gross word people use to describe us non-believers. But I think I’ve said before that atheism isn’t what’s important to me; I’m more concerned about skepticism in general (rather than just being skeptical about gods)…because atheism alone can lead to those annoying people who say “I’m not religious, but I’m spiritual”. I know because I used to be one of those annoying people…

And spirituality still involves faith: believing something to be true without evidence, despite evidence to the contrary, or even believing something for which there can be no evidence. There seems to be only one reason why we would give in to this type of thinking; because it feels good. People only have faith in things they want to be true. And so, when you use faith you fall into a dangerous mode of thought where you let your emotions get in the way of seeing objective truth.

This is where I found what’s important to me (and why I love Carl Sagan so much)…I realized that I’m far more concerned about what’s true than what feels good. This takes much more discipline than faith, though the spiritual gurus would have you think different. Spirituality is constantly trying to convince people that faith is a virtue and that it takes a disciplined mind to make faith work.

I have never known anyone, not one person, either religious or spiritual who is happy…truly content, and content because of their faith. What I see is people constantly needing to remind themselves of their faith; day in and day out they need to repeat to themselves what they believe…as if they are deeply unsure if it really is true. They need to gather in large groups with others of similar faith to reassure one another that this is what they all believe. Not only do I find this deeply unsatisfying, but doesn’t that also seem like a ritual of self-denial?

This is why I want truth. Truth isn’t something you need to recite. The truth simply is…whether you want it to be or not…good or bad. The truth about the world around you is there whether you choose to accept it or not, whether it hurts you or not, whether you want it or you don’t. Truth doesn’t promise to always makes you happy–but isn’t there something so very selfish about wanting only what makes you happy to be real? What the truth will always offer you is understanding and that is something that stays with you.