Jason Pontin of Technology Review has produced a thought-provoking and sobering video letter about the moral and technological implications of the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki, as expressed through the voice of Robert Oppenheimer, creator of the weapons used there.
Pontin uses archival footage of Oppenheimer from an old NBC documentary to raise interesting questions (my paraphrasing):
Was Oppenheimer a man caught up in the unfolding and destructive logic of technology, compelled by historical circumstances to create a weapon that would kill hundreds of thousands of civilians, rather than allow the Nazis and Soviets to get the weapon first, and do who knows what with it?
Could Oppenheimer then be seen as an archetypal representation of a new humanity, caught up in technological spiral in which "everything that can be tried, will be tried," as he thought? (Bill Joy of Sun Microsystems has made similar arguments. His answer is to stop doing science.)
In which case, where destructive technologies will be developed, do "the good" have to use them first against "the evil" in a way that might be considered evil? Such as in the killing of civilians?
My view, contra my "real politic"-minded conservative chums of many years, is that such a utilitarian calculation is inherently self-deceptive.
We must cling, in truly conservative fashion, to the morality of the just war. (I argued for this in a number of editorial meetings.) The implications of that argument, when considering the bloodshed that would have ensued in the continuation of the war in the Pacific, were just too much for them to bear.
But then, they avert their eyes from the horrible nature of the atomic bombings, which seemed so easy to do, and so easy to not pay attention to. In terms of a "media cycle" the bomb was dropped, only to be displaced shortly thereafter in the news, by the end of the war.
Sixty-plus years later this feels like an academic discussion, of course. But we look to history as our guide. Someday, another generation -- maybe not "the greatest generation" -- will look upon these acts with more dispassionate eyes and see them for what they truly were.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Short Film: God is a DJ
Who says you can't make a fun short film with a philosophical theme? This is a beautifully conceived work of art. (Although, the DJ strikes me as a demigod rather than the full deity.)
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Remembering September 11th
As I drove into work this morning, with a light rain falling, I listened to a live radio broadcast of the memorial service at Ground Zero.
There was something almost defiant in the sound of the bagpipes and drums. As if to say, "the dead are laughing at you today Osama bin Laden, and so are we the living."
September 11th marked a turning point in my thinking. The senseless death and destruction, the snuffing out of so many good people and their hopes and dreams, the bizarre photograph of one unknown man falling upside down to his death, inverted my sentimental Catholic spirituality and my life.
September 11th reawakened within me the suppressed memories of my mother's grim death from a cancerous brain tumor at 48; the first time that "God's plan" created personal problems for me. Before that, the banality of evil was other people's problem, and just an abstraction for me.
Like the victims of 9/11, my mother had hopes and dreams. She struggled to find the time to do creative, intellectually stimulating things, despite the crushing responsibilities of her life with eight children. It seemed to me that she was on the verge of breaking out in that direction when she died. Did God care? I don't know for sure, but to a mere foolish mortal, it seemed not.
Since 9/11, I have meditated heavily on the apparent futility of human aspiration. Does death make all human striving mere self-deception and vanity? I think it keeps me from composing half the great pieces of music I have in my head, and writing and shooting the screenplays that dance around in this imagination I inherited from my mother.
I have imagined God not caring about my mother's aspirations, or the victims of 9/11, or the victims of the Tsunami, or Katrina, or the countless people who die silently, too young, in hospitals each day. I am guarded about enjoying my life too much, for fear that just when I truly relish the beauty of my own four children, I will be made the ultimate cosmic fool and struck down. Or worse, that they will be struck down.
When my father, a former New York City firefighter, died at 60, of a sudden, massive stroke, we sat vigil outside of his room at Winthrop Hospital in Mineola, N.Y. The Yankees were on the television. I could see the faces of people at the game, enjoying themselves. They were unaware of the terrible thing that was taking place. It takes place thousands of times every day, all around us. Just miles from the ballpark, or the restaurant, in the hospital, or at the nursing home up the hill.
My parents' children today are writers, musicians, painters, scientists and teachers. They take after my creative, cerebral mother that way. They take after their father in revering the New York City fire department. Our father taught us firsthand about the courage the job requires. He worked with the first responders of 9/11 for many years in Brooklyn. He also represented them in the firefighters' union. I shudder to think what he would have felt had he lived to see that dark Tuesday in September.
I wish I could be at Ground Zero today. People there are likely feeling a connection with the transcendent. I have often thought that I should take one day off from work to go look for such a sacred place, where I might find a key to sorting out the things that began to trouble me so deeply, just six years ago.
There was something almost defiant in the sound of the bagpipes and drums. As if to say, "the dead are laughing at you today Osama bin Laden, and so are we the living."
September 11th marked a turning point in my thinking. The senseless death and destruction, the snuffing out of so many good people and their hopes and dreams, the bizarre photograph of one unknown man falling upside down to his death, inverted my sentimental Catholic spirituality and my life.
September 11th reawakened within me the suppressed memories of my mother's grim death from a cancerous brain tumor at 48; the first time that "God's plan" created personal problems for me. Before that, the banality of evil was other people's problem, and just an abstraction for me.
Like the victims of 9/11, my mother had hopes and dreams. She struggled to find the time to do creative, intellectually stimulating things, despite the crushing responsibilities of her life with eight children. It seemed to me that she was on the verge of breaking out in that direction when she died. Did God care? I don't know for sure, but to a mere foolish mortal, it seemed not.
Since 9/11, I have meditated heavily on the apparent futility of human aspiration. Does death make all human striving mere self-deception and vanity? I think it keeps me from composing half the great pieces of music I have in my head, and writing and shooting the screenplays that dance around in this imagination I inherited from my mother.
I have imagined God not caring about my mother's aspirations, or the victims of 9/11, or the victims of the Tsunami, or Katrina, or the countless people who die silently, too young, in hospitals each day. I am guarded about enjoying my life too much, for fear that just when I truly relish the beauty of my own four children, I will be made the ultimate cosmic fool and struck down. Or worse, that they will be struck down.
When my father, a former New York City firefighter, died at 60, of a sudden, massive stroke, we sat vigil outside of his room at Winthrop Hospital in Mineola, N.Y. The Yankees were on the television. I could see the faces of people at the game, enjoying themselves. They were unaware of the terrible thing that was taking place. It takes place thousands of times every day, all around us. Just miles from the ballpark, or the restaurant, in the hospital, or at the nursing home up the hill.
My parents' children today are writers, musicians, painters, scientists and teachers. They take after my creative, cerebral mother that way. They take after their father in revering the New York City fire department. Our father taught us firsthand about the courage the job requires. He worked with the first responders of 9/11 for many years in Brooklyn. He also represented them in the firefighters' union. I shudder to think what he would have felt had he lived to see that dark Tuesday in September.
I wish I could be at Ground Zero today. People there are likely feeling a connection with the transcendent. I have often thought that I should take one day off from work to go look for such a sacred place, where I might find a key to sorting out the things that began to trouble me so deeply, just six years ago.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
"Darwin's God" Raises Troubling Questions for All
Darwin's God: Evolution and the Problem of Evil
I have finally completed Darwin's God by Cornelius Hunter. A very interesting read. Basically, quoting from the writings of Darwin and his disciples, Hunter argues that Darwinism is a kind of theodicy. The reason: nature is too violent and wasteful to attribute to God, so the scientists and other thinkers of the Victorian age attributed such imperfection to the workings of secondary causes.
Hunter identifies this as a kind of gnosticism, because of its dualistic overtones. The imperfections of the material order must remain separated from the perfection of the spiritual.
Such labelling sounds ominous, as if a great heresy has resurfaced, but it simply underscores the point that Christianity, in whatever age, must struggle with how the problem of evil affects the credibility of its claims about the benevolence of the Creator.
(People today are powerfully aware of evil in all its forms, from natural evil to the evil sometimes manifested in the workings of the church. See this interesting article from Christianity Today on Starbucks Spirituality, which highlights the level of distrust Christians face from historically conscious, cosmopolitan coffee lovers.)
Anyway, getting back to the book, quoting from "The Descent of Man," Hunter notes that Darwin's stated primary objective was to disprove the theory of "special creation" of each and every species by God. Secondarily he was out to prove the theory of natural selection.
Read or listen to any number of Darwinists, such as Richard Dawkins, and you will find repeated references to God, and attempts to discredit theories of special divine creation. Abstain from references to God, Hunter argues, all of the guesswork and speculation about vestigial organs, homologies, etc. would be glaring, and would never be accepted as "scientific."
Indeed, when many Darwinists argue that the theory is a "fact," what they mean is their interpretation of certain pieces of the physical record apparently falsify a particular account of creation. This despite the fact, as Hunter points out amply, that almost nothing in the physical record can falsify Darwinism. What Karl Popper would say is the mark of pseudo-science.
Indeed, the handwriting was on the wall when Darwin said about the complexity of the human eye that all he needed was to be able to conceive of a possible way, rather than show actual proof for, an evolution from less complex structures, and you see evidence of something other than science taking place here.
(My interpretation of this is that once "supernaturalism" is discarded as falsified by any one of millions of potential physical phenomena, a gestalt shift takes place and there is no choice but to interpret all physical phenomena through the lens of naturalism.)
This is exactly what I noted was troubling to me in a comment by eminent physicist Leonard Susskind's on Fora.tv, who blithely accepted such a speculative approach in response to questions about Paley's Watchmaker analogy and the "irreducible complexity" argument put forward by the "Intelligent Design" camp.
What do I take away from this work? An interesting, historically rich overview of Darwinism as attempted falsification of another theory, and/or a theodicy, full of insights into how the problem of evil vexed the Victorians.
But more importantly, Hunter's book, by its omission, painfully underscores the most pressing issue of modern Christianity. For if, as Hunter argues, Darwinism simply attempts to "falsify" one particular account of creation popular in a particular time, what is the alternative, more rational theory of creation, which can overcome the link between creation's irrationality and the Creator, without drifting into heretical dualism? Hunter doesn't answer that question.
Can anyone?
I have finally completed Darwin's God by Cornelius Hunter. A very interesting read. Basically, quoting from the writings of Darwin and his disciples, Hunter argues that Darwinism is a kind of theodicy. The reason: nature is too violent and wasteful to attribute to God, so the scientists and other thinkers of the Victorian age attributed such imperfection to the workings of secondary causes.
Hunter identifies this as a kind of gnosticism, because of its dualistic overtones. The imperfections of the material order must remain separated from the perfection of the spiritual.
Such labelling sounds ominous, as if a great heresy has resurfaced, but it simply underscores the point that Christianity, in whatever age, must struggle with how the problem of evil affects the credibility of its claims about the benevolence of the Creator.
(People today are powerfully aware of evil in all its forms, from natural evil to the evil sometimes manifested in the workings of the church. See this interesting article from Christianity Today on Starbucks Spirituality, which highlights the level of distrust Christians face from historically conscious, cosmopolitan coffee lovers.)
Anyway, getting back to the book, quoting from "The Descent of Man," Hunter notes that Darwin's stated primary objective was to disprove the theory of "special creation" of each and every species by God. Secondarily he was out to prove the theory of natural selection.
Read or listen to any number of Darwinists, such as Richard Dawkins, and you will find repeated references to God, and attempts to discredit theories of special divine creation. Abstain from references to God, Hunter argues, all of the guesswork and speculation about vestigial organs, homologies, etc. would be glaring, and would never be accepted as "scientific."
Indeed, when many Darwinists argue that the theory is a "fact," what they mean is their interpretation of certain pieces of the physical record apparently falsify a particular account of creation. This despite the fact, as Hunter points out amply, that almost nothing in the physical record can falsify Darwinism. What Karl Popper would say is the mark of pseudo-science.
Indeed, the handwriting was on the wall when Darwin said about the complexity of the human eye that all he needed was to be able to conceive of a possible way, rather than show actual proof for, an evolution from less complex structures, and you see evidence of something other than science taking place here.
(My interpretation of this is that once "supernaturalism" is discarded as falsified by any one of millions of potential physical phenomena, a gestalt shift takes place and there is no choice but to interpret all physical phenomena through the lens of naturalism.)
This is exactly what I noted was troubling to me in a comment by eminent physicist Leonard Susskind's on Fora.tv, who blithely accepted such a speculative approach in response to questions about Paley's Watchmaker analogy and the "irreducible complexity" argument put forward by the "Intelligent Design" camp.
What do I take away from this work? An interesting, historically rich overview of Darwinism as attempted falsification of another theory, and/or a theodicy, full of insights into how the problem of evil vexed the Victorians.
But more importantly, Hunter's book, by its omission, painfully underscores the most pressing issue of modern Christianity. For if, as Hunter argues, Darwinism simply attempts to "falsify" one particular account of creation popular in a particular time, what is the alternative, more rational theory of creation, which can overcome the link between creation's irrationality and the Creator, without drifting into heretical dualism? Hunter doesn't answer that question.
Can anyone?
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Hitchens is Not Great?
Although I do not always agree with him, I admire Christopher Hitchens' intellect and persuasive power. When he wades into religion however, like many of his fellow "new atheists" such as Sam Harris and Richard Dawkins, he is out of his depth -- except of course, when beating up the most simple of fundamentalists.
Peter Berkowitz has written a fine piece for the Wall Street Journal on this "new atheism" and its lucrative books sales. He also takes particular issue with his friend Hitchens' "God is Not Great." Good reading.
Peter Berkowitz has written a fine piece for the Wall Street Journal on this "new atheism" and its lucrative books sales. He also takes particular issue with his friend Hitchens' "God is Not Great." Good reading.
Can One Laugh (Be Angry) at God?
Okay, so after watching God, Inc. and Mr. Deity, the old Catholic guilt kicked in, along with my stand-up comedian's sense that comedy is often rooted in anger. So, I decided to check in with my tradition, more specifically the Catechism of the Catholic Church.
Here's what it says about blasphemy:
"2148 Blasphemy is directly opposed to the second commandment. It consists in uttering against God - inwardly or outwardly - words of hatred, reproach, or defiance; in speaking ill of God; in failing in respect toward him in one's speech; in misusing God's name. St. James condemns those 'who blaspheme that honorable name [of Jesus] by which you are called.' The prohibition of blasphemy extends to language against Christ's Church, the saints, and sacred things. It is also blasphemous to make use of God's name to cover up criminal practices, to reduce peoples to servitude, to torture persons or put them to death. The misuse of God's name to commit a crime can provoke others to repudiate religion.
Blasphemy is contrary to the respect due God and his holy name. It is in itself a grave sin."
Aside from a swear here or there, I think these shows are off the hook on any blasphemy rap.
What this made me think of, immediately, was Osama bin Laden and much of the Middle Ages. (I'm still waiting to learn if there is a manifesto from scientists declaring totalitarian killing in the name of science, progress or freedom from religion to be a serious evil.)
Secondarily, but more importantly, it made me wonder about those of us who wonder about God's plan, and get a little peeved, in thought or word, about the whole thing. I have not found to date a lot of discussion about this issue, but I will be researching it more. Perhaps you have something to offer from your own tradition or experience.
Here's what it says about blasphemy:
"2148 Blasphemy is directly opposed to the second commandment. It consists in uttering against God - inwardly or outwardly - words of hatred, reproach, or defiance; in speaking ill of God; in failing in respect toward him in one's speech; in misusing God's name. St. James condemns those 'who blaspheme that honorable name [of Jesus] by which you are called.' The prohibition of blasphemy extends to language against Christ's Church, the saints, and sacred things. It is also blasphemous to make use of God's name to cover up criminal practices, to reduce peoples to servitude, to torture persons or put them to death. The misuse of God's name to commit a crime can provoke others to repudiate religion.
Blasphemy is contrary to the respect due God and his holy name. It is in itself a grave sin."
Aside from a swear here or there, I think these shows are off the hook on any blasphemy rap.
What this made me think of, immediately, was Osama bin Laden and much of the Middle Ages. (I'm still waiting to learn if there is a manifesto from scientists declaring totalitarian killing in the name of science, progress or freedom from religion to be a serious evil.)
Secondarily, but more importantly, it made me wonder about those of us who wonder about God's plan, and get a little peeved, in thought or word, about the whole thing. I have not found to date a lot of discussion about this issue, but I will be researching it more. Perhaps you have something to offer from your own tradition or experience.
Friday, August 3, 2007
One Christian's Take on Dawkins' Militant Atheism
Interesting interview with Alister McGrath, former atheist, now a Christian, about debating atheist media superstar Richard Dawkins. His take: Dawkins dismays his fellow atheist intellectuals because of his sloppiness and acidity, but appeals to those atheists around the world who are concerned about an apparent resurgence of (often fundamentalist) religion.
Also part of this conversation: does the atheist Dawkins help balance out religious fundamentalism because he forces people to think seriously about religion? Personally, I think that such attacks do cause people to think more about the relationship between religion, myth and science. But the rhetoric of those attacks can cause serious misunderstandings on both sides.
Also part of this conversation: does the atheist Dawkins help balance out religious fundamentalism because he forces people to think seriously about religion? Personally, I think that such attacks do cause people to think more about the relationship between religion, myth and science. But the rhetoric of those attacks can cause serious misunderstandings on both sides.
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