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About Richard Bowker

Author of the Portal series, the Last P.I. series, and other novels

Worship

Ralph Waldo Emerson sez:

A person will worship something, have no doubt about that. We may think our tribute is paid in secret in the dark recesses of our hearts, but it will come out. That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives, and our character. Therefore, it behooves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping, we are becoming.

I thought of this quote in the context of the famous C.S. Lewis “Liar, Lunatic, or Lord” argument, quoted in The Believing Brain:

A man who was merely a man and said the sort of things Jesus said would not be a great moral teacher.  He would either be a lunatic — on a level with a man who says He is a poached egg — or else He would be the Devil of Hell.  You must make your choice.  Either this man was, and is, the Son of God: or else a madman or something worse.  You can shut Him up for a fool, you can spit at Him and kill Him as a demon; or you can fall at His feet and call Him Lord and God.

The language of this quote has always struck me as way over the top (without even getting into its dubious logic — are those the only possibilities on offer?).  It seems to me that not everyone is a worshipper, no matter what Emerson says.  But apparently there are lots of folks who must worship someone or something.  Francis Collins seems to be one of them; Lewis had a profound impact on his conversion.

The Believing Brain

The Believing Brain by Michael Shermer has jumped to the front of the reading queue.  It’s about how and why we believe.  This seems to me to be central, not just to discussions of religion, but also to politics, and, well, just about everything.  I’m convinced that conservatives (for example) simply see the world differently from the way I see it.

Shermer was deeply religious for a while but became a skeptic; his book doesn’t appear to be a mere debunking of faith, though (I’m 60 pages in).  In fact, he begins with a sympathetic interview with Francis Collins, the head of the NIH whose beliefs went in exactly the opposite direction.  But Shermer’s point of view can’t be comforting to believers: he believes that evolution didn’t develop our brains to be rational, but to find patterns.  And it’s better to find patterns that aren’t there than to miss one and end up being eaten.  So we extrapolate from coincidences to a belief in ESP; we generalize from an inexplicable experience to a belief in God.

Science is the answer–discovering if the patterns we see match reality.  But it’s a hard slog to get people to accept science when it contradicts their beliefs.  A hundred and fifty years on, a majority of Americans still don’t believe in evolution.

Anyway, this is all an excuse to embed a U2 video.

I can’t see what you see when I look at the world.

Harvard 4 Yale 3

While we’re on the subject of hockey: I went to the Harvard-Yale hockey game last night.  Some changes from the dark ages when I melted the shaved ice from the Zamboni and swept up discarded orange peels from the locker rooms between periods:

  • TV cameras (and annoying TV timeouts)
  • A video scoreboard, with annoying animations and helpful replays
  • Annoyingly loud music
  • Contests between periods
  • Netting behind each goal to keep you from getting killed by a flying puck (and also to keep you from getting a clear view of the action)
  • Raffles, Twitter contests, souvenir stands . . .

One interesting change: about a third of Harvard’s roster is foreign-born.  Not just Canadians: Sweden, Switzerland, Croatia, and the Czech Republic are also represented.  Most of these kids at least prepped at an American school, but still, this doesn’t seem like an altogether positive development to me.  There are 1600 slots in every Harvard class, about half of which will be filled by males.  These are the most coveted 1600 slots in American higher education. It seems OK to me (although many will disagree) that some number of these slots should go to kids whose primary (but not only) qualification is that they can skate fast or shoot a basketball or catch a pass.  But Harvard is at least partially subsidized by taxpayer dollars (at least in the sense that it is a tax-exempt institution); so you’d like to think it could find American kids who can skate fast enough or shoot a basketball or catch a pass well enough to fill those slots.

Anyway, there was an old guy with a booming voice sitting behind me.  Everyone else seemed to know him.  In the third period he became rightly annoyed when Harvard got a one-goal lead and went into a defensive shell.  (Yale eventually scored despite the shell, so Harvard started attacking again and scored the game-winner with a little over a minute left.)  I finally figured out that the old guy was legendary Olympic gold medalist and long-time Harvard coach and AD Bill Cleary.  Nice to see that he’s still on top of his game.

Tim Thomas

I don’t know what it’s like to not be a sports fan.

Being a sports fan means rooting for a team.  I don’t know people who are big Tiger Woods fans or Roger Federer fans.  That’s just stupid.

This is probably some kind of tribal thing, an evolutionary leftover that still demands expression.  I’m sure scientists have studied this.  But I know that my emotions were hardly unique when Vinatieri’s kick as time expired gave the Patriots their first improbable Superbowl win in 2002.  Or, even more poignantly, when the Red Sox won their first World Series in 86 years in 2004.

The Bruins’ Stanley Cup victory in 2011 was a little less exciting, but not much.  Like the Patriots’ win, it came out of nowhere.  Like the Red Sox win, it was a very long time coming.  And the games were endlessly exciting.  Sudden death in hockey is unlike that of any other major American sport: the play rarely stops, and the game (and the series) can come to an end in an instant.

Fans don’t ask much of the athletes, generally.  Try hard, say the right things.  Don’t make us sorry we’re rooting for you.  Because we can’t really help rooting for you.

And, geez, keep politics out of it.  Because politics just makes sports a mess. Do we have to be thinking about Tim Thomas’s views on fiat money when he’s making a save?  Should we worry about Brad Marchand’s healthcare policy when he’s rushing up ice?  These guys are what they do, and who they do it for.  They should understand this when they cash their paychecks.

Let’s not complicate things.

Stuff I Should Have Read in College: Edmund Burke

Reflections on the Revolution in France.

As a knee-jerk liberal, I’ve decided I need to understand (finally) what makes conservatives tick.  So reading Burke is a prelude to reading Corey Robin’s book.

When I was growing up, conservatives were the ones opposing civil rights laws in the name of states’ rights.  Even to my dim adolescent mind, this seemed to be a case of people trying to protect their own privileges under the guise of some supposed political principle.  My basic attitude towards such people hasn’t changed much since then.  Am I wrong?

I can understand libertarianism.  Government can be oppressive.  It can be stupid.  We don’t want any more government than we need.  People’s idea of what we need will differ.

But conservatism is different.  It’s supposedly about preserving what worked in the past.  But why?  You don’t necessarily want to change too quickly, but what’s unjust is unjust.  The fact that it has been unjust for decades or centuries doesn’t change the fact of the injustice.

Anyway, I’ve only gotten through a few pages.  So far, a lot of throat-clearing.

God of the Gaps

There is much to ponder in Jeff’s recent fine comment on Liberal Religion.  Here’s one part that I’d like to ruminate on:

There’s so much we don’t know, scientifically — from the number of actual physical dimensions to perhaps the most basic question of all: Is this universe the only one there is? If it’s not, are there points of intersection between our universe and others?

Here’s a rough taxonomy of how religious people deal with science:

Some of them recognize that science (maybe broadly construed to include historical evidence) presents a problem for their beliefs.  So they attack it head-on.  They dispute the evidence; they challenge the science.  At an extreme, they discard Occam’s Razor altogether and say stuff like, “God put the fossils there to fool scientists.”  These are the folks that make liberal theologians uncomfortable, and they often claim that the New Atheists are simply aiming their fire at these easy targets.

Some folks don’t try to fight with science; they accept scientific knowledge and figure out a way to accommodate their religious beliefs with it.  If you’re a deist, that’s easy — you just say that God flipped the switch, and everything else that happened after that belongs to science.  But most folks are theists, and they believe that God plays an active role in our existence.  So they need to work harder to justify/explain how this works.  These folks may believe in evolution, but they’ll say that evolution is part of God’s plan, and maybe He breathed souls into a couple of early hominids to get His process going.  This kind of approach strikes some as sophisticated theology; for others of us, it comes across as tortuous and unnecessary (as well as fundamentally unprovable in scientific terms).  It’s more of a rear-guard action than a head-on battle.

Then there are the God of the Gaps folks. There’s so much that science hasn’t explained; at an extreme, perhaps science is in principle incapable of explaining certain things. So we can have a theological explanation of that stuff–until, alas, science gets around to explaining it.  Then the God of the Gaps folks have to retreat to accommodationism.  This, I assume, is what’s going to happen with discussions around the origins of the universe.  Used to be that theologians could say, well, OK, evolution explains a lot.  But it doesn’t explain why we’re here in the first place.  It doesn’t explain why anything is here.  There needs to be an Uncaused Cause.  But now we see science marching towards an explanation of ultimate causality.  Maybe it isn’t quite there yet.  As the New Scientist review suggests, maybe multiverses are an explanation; and I expect we’ll see sophisticated theologians making the case for how multiverses are compatible with their beliefs.  For those familiar with my oeuvre (all three or four of you),Forbidden Sanctuary explores an aspect of this, although multiverses weren’t part of the scientific discourse at the time.

And then there are the NOMA folks, who who simply assert that science and religion are about different things. Science in principle simply has nothing to say about religion (or morality or ultimate meaning).

My sense is that most religious people, to the extent that they worry about such things at all, will unsystematically use any of these approaches, depending on the state of play of a particular issue.  If they can use scientific evidence to support their faith, they will.  If not, they will try to use lack of scientific evidence.  If not, they will simply assert that scientific evidence simply doesn’t count.  They still believe.  And that’s a feature, not a bug.  Blessed are they who did not see, and yet believed.

And ultimately, I think, that’s the heart of the matter.

Space

Knopf knocked themselves out producing 1Q84. Even the page numbers have a weirdly appropriate design: the recto and verso numbers are mirror images of each other, and their positions in the outer margin changes from page to page, moving up and down in retrograde motion.  Parallel worlds!  Shifting viewpoints!

But what am I going to do with this 925-page artifact now that I’ve read its contents?  It’s not joining the vanishingly small number of books that I want to reread someday.  It can sit on a shelf only if I make room on the shelf by getting rid of some other book.  Most likely I’ll donate it to my local library.  But it deserves better.

Ah, e-books!  The perfect solution for the shelf-space problem.  Recently our family was blessed by the arrival of a second iPad.  Not having thought much about it, I was surprised when I downloaded the Kindle app from my “purchased” apps at the app store, and I found that it had tracked all my book purchases.  All I needed to do was download them to from Amazon to the new iPad.  Simple!

And yet, those page numbers in 1Q84 were a treat.  Like album covers on LPs.  Like major motion pictures seen in CinemaScope on a huge screen.

I must be getting old — except that I love my iPads.