8 Lessons on the Parallels Between Christianity and New Age

New AgeLast time, I summarized the story of Karla McLaren, a New Age practitioner who gradually embraced science and turned her back on poorly evidenced New Age claims.

Most Christians critique New Age thinking as harshly as any atheist and find McLaren’s analysis compelling. I encourage Christians to hang on to that skepticism as we consider the parallels between New Age and Christian thinking.

1. Maybe it’s all wrong. McLaren was skeptical … to an extent. Her ability to reject silly beliefs within her own community convinced her that she was sufficiently skeptical and able to winnow the valid beliefs from the false ones, but this bit of skepticism deceived her. She rejected some New Age beliefs, which was good, but she was slow to consider that it might pretty much all be bunk. When science conflicted with her beliefs, she stayed within comfortable New Age boundaries.

Christians also reject silly supernatural beliefs (the claims of the other guy’s religion). But just because you’ve rejected some supernatural beliefs doesn’t mean that you’re entitled to hold on to the ones you still fancy. We must always be on guard against confirmation bias, wishful thinking, and all the other human mental maladies that protect our beliefs from critique.

2. Accept that we just don’t know everything. McLaren turned popular New Age thinking on its head when she observed that it’s not the New Age practitioners who embrace mystery. Instead, skeptics accept that science has plenty of unanswered questions that will likely be resolved in their own time, and it’s actually the New Agers who must have an answer to everything. She said, “Critical thinkers and skeptics don’t create answers just to manage their anxiety.”

Similarly, many Christians have little patience for ambiguity. Though they rarely put it this bluntly, their arguments sometimes devolve into, “Science has unanswered questions; therefore, God.”

These Christians insist that they know what caused the Big Bang and how life came from nonlife—God did it. They have no scientific evidence for it, but that doesn’t matter. God still did it. The problem is that “God did it” is too powerful. It answers any question and can never be proven wrong. By being unfalsifiable, this claim is useless.

3. Personal experience? Maybe not that reliable. McLaren “knew” that her metaphysics was true because she experienced it herself, but we have many ways by which we deceive ourselves. That personal experience wasn’t so reliable after all, since she’s since turned her back on New Age.

Christians may also want to reevaluate how they know what’s true. Personal experience may be less reliable than what science tells us, for example.

4. Fear of not knowing leads to unjustified confidence. McLaren says that the “incapacity to tolerate mystery is a direct result of [New Age] culture’s disavowal of the intellect.” If reason doesn’t give an answer, just imagine other ways of understanding reality.

Similar thinking underlies many Christians’ low opinion of science and skepticism and confidence that truth can be found through the “spirit.”

But the lessons aren’t all for the Christians. Here are some for the skeptics.

5. Just because there are scammers doesn’t mean there aren’t honest practitioners. McLaren argued that she honestly believed what she was selling and had no intention of scamming anyone. I can believe that.

Similarly, there are television evangelists and revivalists like Benny Hinn, Creflo Dollar, and Rod Parsley who may be unethical or know that their claims are bullshit, but we must remember that many preachers honestly believe that they’re helping spread the truth.

6. They can’t hear you if your message is belligerent or culturally insensitive. James Randi is a shrewd and incisive intellect who debunks pseudoscience. To me, he comes across as a gentle elf motivated solely by a desire to help the public avoid being taken advantage of, but not everyone agrees. McLaren says that New Agers responded to his attacks on spoon bender Uri Geller in the 1970s by doubling down on their beliefs.

Reaching Christians also requires tact and patience.

7. Beware the Backfire Effect. Yes, skeptics, you’re correct that New Age thinking is wrong, but there are right ways and wrong ways (mostly wrong ways) to convey this information.

Atheists, you’re right as well that Christianity is largely built on legend and wishful thinking. Nevertheless, the wrong approach won’t help and may simply reinforce a Christian conclusion.

8. Consider what you’re asking them to do. The skeptics are simply asking that we accept reality—a reasonable request, right? How hard is that?

Sometimes, quite hard. McLaren says about her own journey out of New Age:

In essence, I had to throw myself off a cliff. I had to leave behind my career, my income, my culture, my family, my friends, my health care practitioners, most of my business contacts, my past, and my future. I say this not to garner sympathy but to show what the leap truly entails….

Skeptical information is absolutely threatening and unwanted.

This is similar to the path that atheists ask some Christians to take. The more central Christianity is to someone’s life, the more difficult to abandon it. It’s not surprising when they respond to challenges by mentally curling up like an armadillo. (I’ve written more on the difficult process of leaving religion here. For more on the Clergy Project, which supports hundreds of pastors who have concluded that Christian faith is unjustified, see the Rational Doubt blog.)

McLaren concludes:

I would ask you to respect our humanity, and approach us not as if you are reformers or redeemers. I would ask you to approach us as fellow humans who share your concern and interest in the welfare of others.

I’ll try. I’m sure this will be an ongoing process.

The yelling between our cultures just becomes louder
while the real communication
falls into the chasm that divides us.
— Karla McLaren

Photo credit: Ian Crowther, flickr, CC

Disambiguation: Legend, Myth, and More

Let’s straighten out some of the terms used in the study of religion, the supernatural, and related topics. There are colloquial definitions, but it’s good to know the scholarly distinctions.

We’ll begin with the big category, folklore. This is the traditional knowledge or forms of expression of a culture passed on from person to person. Folklore can be material (quilts, traditional costumes, the hex signs on Amish barns, or even recipes), behavioral (customs such as throwing rice at a wedding, what constitutes good manners, superstitions, etc.), or traditional stories.

Traditional stories is itself a large category, containing music, anecdotes, ghost stories, parables, popular misconceptions, and other things you might not think of.

Now on to the kinds of traditional stories that are most interesting to apologetics. These terms can overlap quite a bit, so consider these definitions approximations. First, let’s consider stories seen as true (or plausibly so) by their hearers.

  • Legends are grounded in history and can change over time. They can include miracles. Urban legends are a modern category of legends that don’t include miracles, are set in or near the present day, and take the form of a cautionary tale.
  • Myths are sacred narratives that explain some aspect of reality (for example: the myth of Prometheus explains why we have fire and the Genesis creation myth explains where everything came from). Epic poems such as Beowulf and the Odyssey are one kind of myth.

The difference between legends and myths is that a legend is set in a more recent time and generally features human characters, while myths are set in the distant past (“long, long ago”) and have supernatural characters. Some stories are mixtures of the two. For example, the Iliad tells the story of a real city, and the characters include gods, humans with supernatural powers, and ordinary humans.

Lady Godiva, King Arthur, William Tell, and Atlantis are examples of legends—the stories have human characters and are set in a historic past. Myths include the stories of Hercules and Zeus, Hindu mythology, the Noah story, and the creation stories of dozens of cultures—they have gods as characters and are set in a distant or undefined past.

Let’s take a brief detour to look at a few relevant terms that are not part of the category of traditional stories.

  • Religion starts with the sacred narratives of mythology and adds beliefs and practices. Myth and scripture are both sacred, but scripture is the writings themselves. Doctrine is codified teaching, and dogma is that mandatory subset of the doctrine that must be believed for one to be a member.
  • Superstition is any belief that relies on a supernatural (instead of natural) cause like astrology, omens to predict the future, magic, or witchcraft. It can also be defined as the unfounded supernatural beliefs of the other guy’s religion (not your own, of course). Merriam-Webster defines it as “a belief or practice resulting from ignorance, fear of the unknown, trust in magic or chance, or a false conception of causation.”

Finally, let’s consider stories understood by their hearers to not be true.

  • Fables have a particular kind of character: nonhumans such as animals, plants, inanimate objects, or forces of nature that have human-like qualities. Fables end with a moral.
  • Fairy tales also have particular characters: fantasy characters such as fairies, goblins, and elves. Magic is also an element. There is no connection with historic time (it begins “Once upon a time …”).
  • Parables are plausible stories with plausible characters (no talking rocks, no magic) that are not presented as true. Parables illustrate a moral or religious principle.

If it can be destroyed by the truth,
it deserves to be destroyed by the truth.
— Carl Sagan

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 8/1/12.)

Photo credit: Wikimedia

In Which I Experience a Miracle. Or Not.

I was a fan of the “Skeptics Guide to the Universe” podcast in the summer of 2007 when Perry, one of the hosts, died at about age 44. I was listening to a memorial retrospective podcast of Perry’s contributions as I walked through Seattle’s streets, on my way to an Alpha group meeting. (Alpha is a series of classes that discuss various aspects of Christianity, so God is in this story somewhere.)

One of the quirks of the show was an ongoing argument over whether birds or monkeys were more impressive animals (don’t ask). Perry would often spar with another regular on the show, enthusiastically arguing for the monkeys.

So there I am, listening to this poignant reflection as I walk to my Alpha meeting, and I turn a corner onto Queen Anne Avenue in Seattle. I see a sign that says “Monkey Love Rubber Stamps” (above).

This sign didn’t have just any name, but a name with an animal. Not just any animal, but a monkey (not an ape or a chimpanzee). Not any common monkey idiom (monkeyshines, monkey business, monkey’s uncle) but monkey love. What more is necessary to indicate a celestial blessing on the memory of a departed friend?

Apparently a lot more than that, because it’s been a memorable coincidence to me and nothing more.

Fortune telling through pie

Here’s another small but surprising event that stuck in my mind. On my daughter’s wedding day, I was making two pies that called for six eggs. The last egg had a double yolk.

This was my daughter’s wedding day. Clearly that had to mean something. Jesus was clearly telling me that they would have a happy marriage. Or that they would get married. Or that they would have kids. Or, because I beat the eggs for the pie, that they would be mangled in a horrible accident. Or something.

Other coincidences

This curiosity of the double egg yolk is like the New York state lottery picking the digits 9 1 1 on the one-year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks. Sure, that’s cool and even memorable, but what does it mean?

Noteworthy and even startling coincidences are easy to find.

  • The Apollo 13 mission to the moon nearly ended in disaster, but some clever extemporaneous engineering saved the crew. Look for thirteens in this story, and you find them in abundance. Not only was the mission #13, but the time of launch was 13:13. The disaster happened on April 13. 1970 was the 13th year of the space program.
  • In the weeks leading up to the June, 1944 D-Day landings, the code words Utah, Omaha, Overlord, Mulberry, and Neptune appeared in different crossword puzzles in London’s Daily Telegraph. No, not espionage—just coincidences.
  • In 2001, an English girl released a helium balloon with her contact information. It landed 140 miles away and wound up in the hands of another girl. Not only did the girls each have as pets a gray rabbit, a guinea pig, and a black Lab, they were the same age and each girl was named Laura Buxton.
  • The coincidences between the Kennedy and Lincoln assassinations are famous: Lincoln’s secretary was named Kennedy and Kennedy’s was named Lincoln, both presidents were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson, both assassins were known by three names, Booth shot in a theater and ran to a warehouse while Oswald shot from a warehouse and ran to a theater, and others.
  • Everyone knows about the 1912 sinking of the Titanic. Fewer know about a novel written 14 years earlier about another “unsinkable” ship, the largest ever, that struck an iceberg on its maiden voyage and sank with great loss of life. The ship’s name was Titan.

If God is simply that which is unexplained or curious, then sure, that God exists. But God is then no more supernatural than an interesting pattern on a grilled cheese sandwich. Without good reason to think otherwise, a coincidence is just a coincidence.

Self-validating miracle claims

Survivors of a disaster—tsunami, plane crash, whatever—can look at the long odds for their surviving and read that as evidence of God’s providence. The problem with this analysis is that all the naysayers—those who could puncture that bubble with their own stories of how God didn’t care enough to save them—are all dead. The result is a monoculture of survivors who could look imagine God’s action.

Littlewood’s Law

Littlewood’s Law says that a “miracle”—a once-in-a-million event—happens once a month. To make this calculation, he assumed one “event” per second. Obviously, most of those are mundane. These monthly “miracles” are the surprising (but not supernatural) events that we tell our friends, like the two that happened to me, above.

We’re pattern-seeking animals. We see a man in the moon, shapes in clouds, and the face of Jesus or Mary in a tortilla. Someone determined to see supernatural agency in life can find examples, but the evidence doesn’t back them up.

Whatever Nature has in store for mankind,
unpleasant as it may be, men must accept,
for ignorance is never better than knowledge.
— Enrico Fermi

Photo credit: yelp

OK, Smart Guy—YOU Tell Us What Happened

resurrectionI’ve written a series of posts questioning the historicity of the New Testament. In conversations with Christians, however, I’ve been asked variations of this: “Okay, smart guy: you say that you don’t see the gospel story as history. Enlighten us then—how do you explain the facts? What do you think happened?”

That’s a fair question, and I’m happy to make a claim and defend it. Even if you accept my contention that the gospel story is just legend and that the supernatural stuff didn’t happen—that the Bible is just the surviving fragments of the blog of a prescientific tribe of people who lived two to three thousand years ago—that only tells us what didn’t happen.

So what did happen? That the New Testament exists is undeniable; what explains it? Here we go.

1.   Jesus lived. The Christ Myth Theory, which argues there is insufficient evidence for a historical Jesus, is another possibility, but the simplest argument seems to be that a real man grounded the Jesus story. Lots of people in Palestine were named Yeshua, and lots of people were crucified. It’s easy to imagine legend growing on a foundation of an actual person in history.

2.   Jesus was an influential Jewish teacher who had a following. He was killed, and stories grew up about him after he died.

3.   The stories were passed from person to person orally for decades, eventually touching thousands or tens of thousands of people. Palestine was at the crossroads of many important cultures. The new religion spread quickly by evangelism and trade through the Ancient Near East, from Palestine to Egypt, Syria, Asia Minor, Greece, Italy, and beyond.

4.   The stories were changed along the way. Some of this might have been inadvertent, but some was deliberate. Embellishments were added to improve the story, either to satisfy imagined or real prophecy from the Old Testament (for a Jewish audience) or to duplicate a supernatural feature of a competing Greek, Mesopotamian, or Egyptian religion (for a Gentile audience). Starting from a Jewish community that spoke Aramaic, it found a home in a far-flung community that was culturally Greek.

5.   Christianity relied initially on oral history. After decades, when it became clear that the imminent second coming wasn’t coming, the apocalyptic element of the religion was toned down, the religion settled in for the long haul, and the stories were committed to parchment. A handful of these gospels were written in the first century, including the four that made it into the New Testament. Dozens more were added in the following centuries.

6.   Some of these later gospels were benign, but others were dangerously incompatible. A Christian community that accepted one tradition might consider another community heretical, and vice versa. Church fathers wrote books against particular heresies: Irenaeus wrote against Gnosticism, Tertullian against Marcionism, and Origen against Platonism. Different philosophies were debated, and the collection of dogmas that we think of today as orthodox Christianity was hardly the obvious winner.

  • In opposition to Paul, the Ebionites saw Jesus as preaching an extension of Judaism, not a new religion. Paul himself documents this internal disagreement in the debate over circumcision (Gal. 6:12–13).
  • Other heresies fragmented the church before the Council of Nicaea—Montanism (an early kind of Pentecostalism), Nicolationism (hedonism), Antinomianism (an extreme view of salvation through faith alone), Sabellianism (Jesus and God the Father were not distinct persons but two aspects of one person), Doceticism (Jesus was only spirit, and his humanness was an illusion), Arianism (Jesus didn’t always exist but was a created being), rejection of Trinitarianism (God exists in three persons), and others. But of course these were heresies only from the standpoint of the church that eventually emerged victorious. Make different initial assumptions, and things look different.

7.   The gospels and epistles were copied over the years and modified in small and large ways to adapt to different communities’ beliefs.

8.   What we think of as the official Christian canon of books was largely fixed by the time of the Council of Nicaea in 325.

Feel free to help make this a more plausible explanation, but it is already far more plausible than accepting the gospel stories as history.

The word “belief” is a difficult thing for me.
I don’t believe. I must have a reason for a certain hypothesis.
[If] I know a thing, then I know it.
I don’t need to believe it.
— Carl Jung

(This is an update of a post that originally appeared 7/30/12.)

 Photo credit:fradaveccs

Correcting Misinformation While Minimizing the Backfire Effect

christian misinformation backfireIn part 1, we explored the Backfire Effect, the surprising effect in which a correction to deeply held misinformation often reinforces that misinformation.

The first lesson is that the obvious path—simply providing the new information with references—is not the best when recipients could see this as an attack on their worldview. Let’s see if we can do better.

1. Avoid reinforcing the misinformation

The Debunking Handbook is a great resource for understanding the Backfire Effect and how to minimize it. Their first tip is to focus on the facts, not the myth. Using “President Obama is a Muslim” as our example, the last thing that the corrector of this misinformation should do is give any more airtime to the myth. In other words, don’t title the article, “Is Obama a Muslim??”

It’s analogous to how to avoid trouble when driving. When bad things are suddenly happening around you, focus on the safe route through the chaos, not on the accident. And with myths, focus on the truth, not the myth.

The article recommends sandwiching the myth in the facts.

  • The title should focus on the facts without acknowledging the myth: perhaps “Obama’s Christianity Is as Deep as MLK’s.”
  • Begin the article with facts: Obama’s connection to the church since his 20s, say, or his participation in Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s church.
  • Briefly acknowledge the myth, but clearly label it as wrong: “Some people incorrectly think that President Obama is Muslim” for example.
  • Conclude by showing how the myth is flawed. Give quotes from respected people making the point or quotes from Obama showing his publicly acknowledged faith, say. End with a quotable line that summarizes the fact.

2. Avoid overkill—less is more

There’s a debate maxim that if you’re explaining, you’re losing. That’s the genius behind the “Gish Gallop,” the technique made famous by young-earth Creationist Duane Gish. During interviews and debates, he would puke out a torrent of flawed but compelling challenges to evolution. Biologists interviewed with him would often take the bait and carefully explain why each was crap, but these explanations are long and boring. Gish was firing blanks, but he made a lot of noise and often made the better showing.

When correcting a myth, don’t put up obstacles for your reader. A mountain of information may be too much to bother with. Make it easy to access, process, and accept. Instead of a pile of arguments, give just a few key arguments that make the point clearly and painlessly. Remember that you’re arguing against a simple, pleasing myth. Your reader doesn’t want to wrestle with a long and boring dissertation.

The basics of clear communication also apply. Use graphics when possible, use short sentences and short paragraphs, and use headings and simple language. Avoid combative language that will alienate.

The journalist’s pyramid model is another tool. The reader might leave at any point, and you want the information to that point to be as complete as possible. Start with a broad, high-level view, and work your way down to the details.

The Debunking Handbook gives an example where three tabs on a web page allow readers to choose to read the information at a basic, intermediate, or advanced level based on their knowledge and interest.

3. Avoid attacking worldviews

Attacking someone’s worldview will likely trigger the Backfire Effect and reinforce their commitment to the misinformation, but there are a couple of tricks to Trojan horse the message past the mental barricades. First, putting people in a positive frame of mind—for example, by asking them to write a few sentences about a time they felt good after acting on an important value—makes a new idea less threatening. The article “How facts backfire” observes:

This would also explain why demagogues benefit from keeping people agitated. The more threatened people feel, the less likely they are to listen to dissenting opinions, and the more easily controlled they are.

Another approach is to frame a message through word choices that minimize attacks on someone’s worldview. The organizer of Seattle Skeptics once made a nice save using this approach. He was giving a talk about the 9/11 Truth movement, which argues that the 9/11 attacks were a conspiracy. He expected an audience of skeptics who accepted the official explanation, but it turned out to be an audience of 9/11 Truthers. He reframed his message to be more acceptable by using one of their favorite lines: “Why do they not want you to know this? What are they hiding?” The Truther-flavored argument went something like this: Here’s a response to one of the popular Truther arguments. Why did I have to tell you this instead of the Truther web sites? What do you suppose they’re hiding?

Does this sound like cheating? The article disagrees: “Self-affirmation and framing aren’t about manipulating people. They give the facts a fighting chance.”

A third option focuses on the source of the flawed information rather than the consumer. Make it hurt to spread misinformation. Increase its reputation cost. For example, FactCheck.org is one organization that tries to hold politicians to a high standard.

You may need to focus your message on the winnable subset of the audience. The curious, questioning, or undecideds may be reachable, while you may have to write off those who have no interest in listening to threatening new ideas.

4. Avoid leaving a mental hole

Don’t simply eliminate the myth in someone’s mind. An incomplete model—that is, a model of how things work with the myth crossed out—causes discomfort. The human mind prefers an incorrect model to an incomplete one. Quickly fill that hole with the correct facts, neatly packaged to drop in as a replacement.

To help pry out the myth, you may want to highlight the techniques that made the myth seem plausible—perhaps they used experts who weren’t experts or cherry picked the data. Also consider exposing the agenda of whoever is pushing the myth.

5. Avoid a combative posture—be partners instead

Instead of an “I’m right and you’re wrong” approach, go into the discussion seeing it as a partnership, with both of you trying to figure out the right answer.

Am I worried that Christians will improve their arguments with information in this post? Not at all. When all communication is clearer and biases are avoided, I win. I suspect that a clearer atheist position will even more strongly beat a clearer Christian position.

And that’s the point about beliefs—they don’t change facts.
Facts, if you’re rational, should change beliefs.
—  Ricky Gervais (The Unbelievers movie trailer)

Education is a condom for your brain.
— seen on the internet

Photo credit: apwbATTACK

The Backfire Effect: When Accurate Information Is a Miscalculation

backfire effect misinformationBarack Obama is a Christian. He easily passes the tests you’d give to anyone else: he uses Christian language, he goes to church, and (most importantly) he says he’s a Christian!

It’s been fact checked, as if that would be necessary. Turns out that, yes, he’s a Christian.

But you wouldn’t know it from the polls. In March 2008, before Obama was elected president, polls showed 47% of Americans accepted that he was Christian, 12% said Muslim, and 36% didn’t know. With time, this groundless confusion should dissolve away, right? Nope. Four years later, the 2012 poll showed similar results.

Another poll in Mississippi found 12% saying Christian and 52% Muslim (and 36% Don’t Know). Among “very conservative” voters, it was 3% Christian, 58% Muslim, and 39% Don’t Know. That was in 2012. In America.

This example shows that we well-educated moderns don’t always accept obvious facts. Who could then doubt that first-century Christians might not have recorded events with perfect accuracy? But that’s just a corollary observation. I want to instead explore how this deeply embraced misinformation gets in our heads and stays there.

Backfire effect

The natural response for skeptics like me is to suppose that misinformed people simply don’t have the correct facts. These people are eager to know the truth, and if we provide them with the facts, the misinformation will vanish.

In some cases, this is true. A correction that doesn’t push any buttons can work. It’s easy to accept a more efficient driving route to work or a new accounting policy. In situations like politics, however—as the “Obama isn’t a Christian” example shows—things are more complicated. And here’s the crazy thing: presenting people with the correct information can reinforce the false beliefs. That’s the Backfire Effect.

One helpful article (“How facts backfire”) notes that it’s threatening to admit that you’re wrong, especially where one’s worldview is involved, as with politics and religion. The article calls the Backfire Effect a defense mechanism that avoids cognitive dissonance.

In reality, we often base our opinions on our beliefs, which can have an uneasy relationship with facts. And rather than facts driving beliefs, our beliefs can dictate the facts we chose to accept. They can cause us to twist facts so they fit better with our preconceived notions.

It gets worse. I’ve written before about the critical but often overlooked difference between confidence and accuracy in memories, how a confident memory isn’t necessarily an accurate one. Studies of the Backfire Effect show that those people most confident in their grasp of the facts tended to be the least knowledgeable about the topic. That is, those most in need of correcting their beliefs are least likely to do so.

This isn’t just an academic issue. These people are voters, and their ignorance affects public policy.

(As an aside, this is related to the Dunning-Kruger effect in which more competent people rate their ability less than it actually is, while less competent people do the reverse. The hypothesis is that the less competent people were too incompetent to appreciate their own incompetence.)

How can we humans be as smart as we are but have this aversion to correct information? The human brain seems to seek consistency. It’s mentally easy to select confirming information and ignore the rest. Reevaluating core principles is difficult and stressful work.

Let’s not be too hard on ourselves, though. If we had to continually reevaluate everything, we’d never get out of bed in the morning. Cognitive shortcuts make sense, usually.

In part 2, we’ll conclude with a look at how to correct misinformation without triggering the Backfire Effect.

The door of a bigoted mind opens outwards
so that the only result of the pressure of facts upon it
is to close it more snugly.
— Ogden Nash

Photo credit: adrian capusan