How Science Works (and How Christianity Thinks it Wins)

Posted on by


This argument was made at a Creationism conference that I attended several years ago: science isn’t trustworthy because every time you turn around, it’s changing its mind.

  • The sun goes around the earth … no, wait a minute—it’s the other way around.
  • Here’s the fossil of an early human … no, hold on—that one’s a hoax.
  • Living things hold a special energy or force—an élan vital—that animates them … nope, that’s passé.
  • Every wave needs a medium, so space must be filled with “ether” for light to propagate through … oops, wrong again.

An early theory of the formation of the moon said that the fast-spinning early earth flung out the moon and that the big circular Pacific Ocean basin is where it came from. The question of origin of the moon has been an active area of research, and the flung-out-moon idea is just another discarded scientific theory—this was one of the areas of research that was lampooned at this conference.
The Creationist argues that when you turn from changeable Science to Christianity’s unchanging God and Bible, you have something solid that you can trust.
How does science change?
Science does change, but let’s notice that the size of any change tends to decrease for a single theory. When the door is flung open to a new field of inquiry—say by Leeuwenhoek’s discovery of single-celled organisms or Galileo’s use of the telescope—new theories based on insufficient evidence try to organize the chaos. One theory might quickly supersede another, but as theories become better at explaining more, changes becomes smaller. Here are some examples.

  • Geocentrism to heliocentrism was an enormous change for the model of the solar system. Our understanding of the solar system continues to change (new theories about why Uranus is tipped on its side or the reclassification of Pluto as a dwarf planet, for example), but these are comparatively minor.
  • Evolution revolutionized biology, and the changes in biology today are merely refinements to this theory. Punctuated equilibrium proposes occasional rapid change instead of Darwin’s view of gradual change, but it tries to improve evolution, not overturn it.
  • The intuitive flat earth model was replaced by a spherical earth, and the observation that it’s actually not spherical but slightly flattened at the poles is a small change.
  • Quantum physics continues to change, but new discoveries are not likely to say that matter is not made up of atoms, which are themselves not made up of protons, neutrons, and electrons.

Christians eager to paint the Bible as an unchanging rock in a sea of chaos don’t seem to understand that they point to science’s strength. Science realizes that new discoveries may obsolete old theories, and every scientific statement is provisional. And, remarkably, science is self-correcting. It finds its own errors.
Science changes, and that’s its strength. The Bible never changes, and that’s its weakness.

When people thought the Earth was flat, they were wrong.
When people thought the Earth was spherical they were wrong.
But if you think that thinking the Earth is spherical
is just as wrong as thinking the Earth is flat,
then your view is wronger than both of them put together.
— Isaac Asimov

(This is a modified version of a post originally published 12/5/11.)

Frank Turek’s Criminally Bad C.R.I.M.E.S. Argument: Evil and Science

Posted on by

This is the conclusion of a critique of Frank Turek’s arguments in favor of Christianity made at a recent debate. See the beginning of the discussion here.
The E in CRIMES is Evil
Turek wants to turn around the Problem of Evil (“Why would a good god allow so much bad in the world?”) to make it work for him.

Objective evil presupposes objective good, and objective good requires God.

That is, from evil we get objective morality, and from there, God. As C.S. Lewis said, “A man does not call a straight line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line.” God’s morality is that straight line.
Once again, Turek makes a bold assertion of objective morality with zero evidence that it actually exists (more in the critique of his morality argument). Drop this assumption, and his argument deflates like a flabby balloon.
The S in CRIMES is Science
Turek asks why the laws of nature are predictable.
Why does he ask? Would it be more likely to have the laws of nature to be unpredictable? That’s an interesting claim—I invite Turek to show that in a godless universe, we’d expect the laws of nature to be unpredictable. Only with that will his question be provocative.
Turek says that God is holding the universe together right now. Again, that’s an interesting claim with no evidence to back it up.
Next, he quotes Einstein, “The most incomprehensible thing about the world is that it is at all comprehensible” and concludes,

Science can’t be done if atheism is true.

Turek turns Einstein’s provocative observation into a supernatural conclusion. He says, “Ooh! Ooh! I know! It’s because God did it.” No, you need evidence.
Turek thinks that the success of science proves God, though the scientists who actually understand the science disagree. If the fact that we can do science disproved atheism, wouldn’t we learn that first from science? In fact, the higher up the science ladder you go, the less the Christian belief. Only one third of U.S. scientists believe in God, far less than the fraction in the general population.

Science is built on a foundation of immaterial realities that theism, not atheism, can explain.

Sure, you can explain the foundation of science. You can explain anything. But is your explanation worth listening to?
Think of the map of world religions—Protestants in the green area and Roman Catholics in the blue and Hindus in the yellow. Consensus extends to the boundaries of a particular religion or religious sect and not beyond. Simply understanding another religion better doesn’t mean that the boundary will break down, because religion isn’t built on a foundation of evidence.
Contrast this with science. Why is there a map of world religions but not world science? Understanding and evidence do break down barriers within science. Incompatible theories demand resolution, and further experiments determine which theory explains reality better. There is no map of world science (say, with the Geocentrists in green and the Heliocentrists over there in blue).
Axioms of science
He moves on to a long list of fundamentals that science can only assume but his theology can explain.
Science does have axioms that we take as givens and are not built on still-more-primitive axioms. Turek seems to imagine that they’re taken on faith, but axioms are continually tested.
Let’s imagine that 1 + 1 = 2 were such an axiom. If that were an axiom at the foundation of an argument that came to crazy conclusions, every step, including this axiom, would be reconsidered. There is no dogma within science. Everything is challengeable, and nothing is sacred. If 1 + 1 = 2 were only true in some situations but not others, that would be duly noted. For example, Newton’s law of gravity worked until it didn’t, and relativistic caveats are now part of that law.
Here are three of Turek’s fundamentals.

  • We assume orderly natural laws. Show us that disorderly laws are to be expected. Without that, why is your observation interesting?
  • Causality. “You have to assume the law of causality to do a science experiment.” If the “law of causality” states that every effect must have a cause, we know that that’s not the case. Quantum events may not have causes, for example. Second, nothing is taken on faith, including any assumption of causality.
  • Laws of logic. When presented with a puzzle such as “Can God make a rock so big he can’t lift it?” (or a square circle or a married bachelor), I’ve heard apologists sidestep this by saying that God can only do things that are logically possible. But in so doing, they defeat Turek’s objection. God is then bound by logic; logic is external to God. Logic becomes a property of reality, not an invention of God.

WWSD (What Would Sherlock Do?)
Sherlock Holmes observed, “When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” While this sounds appropriately wise from the Sage of Detection, I find this dictum useless in practice.
Say that I’m looking for my car key. I drove home and haven’t left since, so it has to be in the house. But it’s not in the key drawer or my pants pocket, and my wife didn’t take it. With the obvious options eliminated, does that mean that “ghosts took it” becomes a viable option? Of course not. The weak part of Holmes’ scheme is being sure that you’ve eliminated the impossible. I’ll likely find that my key was in the key drawer but I didn’t see it, or it’s in the pocket of my other pants, or my wife did take it but forgot or misunderstood my question.
This seems to be Turek’s approach to apologetics. He tries (ineptly) to eliminate natural explanations and show, by elimination, that his pet theory is the winner.
No, it doesn’t work that way. Does God exist? Great—then show us the evidence. Science has to; why should you get a pass? Without evidence, your hypothesis isn’t even in the running.

Which is it, is man one of God’s blunders,
or is God one of man’s?
— Friedrich Nietzsche

If God has made us in his image,
we have returned him the favor.
— Voltaire

Photo credit: Wikipedia

Pointless Parables

Posted on by

I like some of the parables in the New Testament. The parables of the Good Samaritan and the Prodigal Son, for example, give good examples of the right path and add to the moral vocabulary of civilization.
Lately, however, I’ve come across a few modern apologetic parables that fall far short of those in the Bible. Let me start with a tediously long story making a very small point. (I’ve abbreviated all the parables here. You’re welcome!)
“The Blind Faith of Atheism”
An atheist professor was harassing his Christian students about their God belief, so they challenge him to a debate. The arrogant professor agrees, thinking he could shut down this God thing once and for all.
The atheist’s opening remark likens God belief to Santa Claus belief. We give up one when we grow up; why not both?
The Christian debater goes through a long process of arguing that the atheist doesn’t know everything, to which the atheist agrees. And now he releases the snare: isn’t it possible that evidence of God could exist in that huge fraction of all knowledge that the atheist doesn’t understand? “Have you been to South Yemen?” the Christian asks. “Maybe God is in South Yemen.”
The debate isn’t going his way, so the atheist complains that the debate isn’t fair.
The Christian pushes his point and gets the atheist, now meek and whiney, to admit that the claim “There is no God” is indefensible and that the atheist’s claim is actually a faith position. A little more back and forth, and the atheist slinks away, publicly humiliated.
This is rather like the Chick tract in which the nasty Biology professor gets shredded and then converted by a calm and polite Christian.

So the moral is: don’t say, “God absolutely, for sure doesn’t exist.” Got it. I never have.
In the first place, very few atheists are certain that there is no God. They would say instead that they have no God belief, just like the Christian has no Poseidon belief. We follow the evidence and say that the evidence points more to not-God than God.
Second, “there is no God” is a faith position just like “there are no unicorns” is—that is, not at all. Could unicorns exist? It’s possible, but the evidence strongly argues that they don’t. We don’t have faith that unicorns don’t exist; we trust that they don’t because we have evidence that they don’t. In the same way, belief in God is a faith position, but following the facts where they point (and tentatively concluding that God is in the same bin as Zeus, Shiva, and the other gods from history) is a trust position.
Here’s story #2.
“A Man and His Barber”
As the barber trims a customer’s hair, he says that he doesn’t believe in God. He points to the problem of evil—why would there be so much pain and suffering in the world if God existed?
Wanting to avoid antagonizing the man who had his coiffure in his hands, the Christian customer doesn’t engage in the argument, but after leaving the shop, he sees a man with a scruffy beard and long unkempt hair. He returns to the barber shop and says, “I just realized something—barbers don’t exist either.”
“But I just cut your hair!” the barber replies.
“If barbers existed, there would be no one with long hair, like the man I just saw.”
“Don’t blame me if they don’t come to me.”
“Exactly!” the Christian replies. “And we can’t blame God if we don’t go to him. He exists; the problem with pain and suffering is that people don’t seek God.”
Huh? But Christians do go to God. How does that help the pain and suffering in the world? How does that remove pain and suffering from just the lives of Christians? How does that undo the damage from tornadoes or tsunamis? Praying to a God, even one who’s not there, can bring comfort, I’ll admit, but that’s no evidence in favor of the Christian’s claim, that God exists.
Finally, a well-made video from the Macedonian Ministry of Education and Science.
“Does God Exist?”
The video opens with a schoolboy running into school. The time period looks to be about 1900.
The teacher at the front of the room speaks in German, with English subtitles. He declares that if God exists then he is evil. If he created everything, then he created evil, right?
Our schoolboy protagonist stands to challenge this. “Professor, does cold exist?”
“Of course it does.”
“No, sir, cold doesn’t exist. Heat exists, and cold is merely the absence of heat. Professor, does darkness exist?”
“Of course.”
“No, sir. Darkness doesn’t exist. It is merely the absence of light. In the same way, evil doesn’t exist. Evil is the result of what happens when man does not have God’s love in his heart.”
At the end, we see the name of this precocious schoolboy: Albert Einstein. We’re left with the tagline: “Religion is knowledge too. Bring religion back to school.”
With a tagline like that on a government video, I guess there’s not much separation of church and state here. And a Macedonian ministry puts together a German video with English subtitles? Why not Macedonian subtitles? What possible goal of theirs could this serve?
Putting aside this mystery, this isn’t an honest portrayal of Einstein’s religious beliefs, at least not in his later life.
And the professor knew his Bible better than little Albert. God did indeed create evil.

I form the light and create darkness, I bring prosperity and create disaster; I, the LORD, do all these things. (Isaiah 45:7)
Is it not from the mouth of the Most High that both calamities and good things come? (Lamentations 3:38)

We can quibble about whether evil is something or the absence of something, but the final statement, that evil is the result of not having God’s love, is simply an assertion without evidence. Unconvincing.
Is it me, or have Christian parables gone downhill?

If people are good
only because they fear punishment,
and hope for reward,
then we are a sorry lot indeed.
— Albert Einstein

(This is a modified version of a post originally published 12/2/11.)

James Dobson Needs My Money (and an Education)

Posted on by

James Dobson, founder of Focus on the Family, was good enough to send me a letter a few years ago. Not a personal letter—he basically just wants me to give him some of my money—but a letter nonetheless. He outlined some of his views about the Christian foundation our country was built on, reported how our country is going to hell in a jet-propelled handbasket, and made the irresistible swipe at homosexuality.
In case he forgot to send you one, I’ve highlighted a few interesting bits of his letter to reply to.
America is a Christian Nation! (Or something.)

Our Founding Fathers clearly understood the relationship between Christian Truth and the stability of our (then) new nation. Here are just a few quotes that express that essential connection.

And he goes on to quote mine the founding fathers’ writings to find their most pro-Christian statements. This desire is irresistible to many history revisionists today, so let me try to apply the brakes.
When pundits bring up quotes from the founders, you know that they’re out of arguments. The U.S. Constitution is the law of the land, regardless of what the founders thought, wrote, or wanted. They had their chance to define how the country should be run, and they seized it. That document was revolutionary at the time and now, with a few amendments, effectively governs us more than two centuries later. It supersedes any other writings of the founders. Christianity has its place within society thanks to the Constitution, not vice versa.

Thomas Jefferson, … revisionists tell us, wanted a “wall of separation” to protect the government from people of faith.

No need for revisionists—Thomas Jefferson himself talked about “a wall of separation between church and state.” And, to be precise, the First Amendment protects the people (whether or not of faith) from the government, not the other way around.
Dobson then goes on to give a long quote by Abraham Lincoln. Well, not really by Lincoln. This was a Senate resolution for a National Fast Day signed by Lincoln. And this was the same Lincoln who said, “When I do good, I feel good; when I do bad, I feel bad. That’s my religion.”
This was the same Lincoln who said, “The Bible is not my book, and Christianity is not my religion.”
This was the same Lincoln who said, “My earlier views of the unsoundness of the Christian scheme of salvation and the human origin of the scriptures have become clearer and stronger with advancing years, and I see no reason for thinking I shall ever change them.”
The private Lincoln wasn’t the strong Christian that Dobson imagines. (And it wouldn’t change the Constitution if he were.)

We are witnessing an unprecedented campaign to secularize our society and “de-moralize” our institutions from the top down. … Most forms of prayer have been declared unconstitutional in the nation’s schools. The Ten Commandments have been prohibited on school bulletin boards. … In this wonderful Land of the Free, we have gagged and bound all of our public officials, our teachers, our elected representatives, and our judges.

Again: read the Constitution, our 100% secular Constitution. Prayer should never have been allowed in schools in the first place—not after the 14th Amendment, anyway. Ten Commandments in courthouses or in schools? Clearly out of step with the Constitution.
I don’t want to see Christian citizens gagged; I want them to have the same public speech rights that I do. But when you’re acting as a public official, teacher, or elected representative, the rules are different. The First Amendment demands that you create an unbiased environment. Evangelism with prayer or religious documents is forbidden. Dobson somehow finds this a shocking new realization, but the First Amendment was adopted in 1791.
As a secularist, I know when to stop. I’m only asking that the First Amendment be followed. I want no Christian preferences—such as “In God We Trust” as the motto, prayers before government meetings, Creationism in schools, crosses on public land, and so on—but when we have reached that secular situation, I will stop. I’m not striving for a society where Christianity is illegal. (See what a good friend a secular Constitution is for the Christian?)
But I see no stopping point on the other side, no unambiguous standard that all Christians are striving for. If they got prayer back in schools, what would be next?
The sky is falling. Or not.

Since we have effectively censored their expressions of faith in public life, the predictable is happening: a generation of young people is growing up with very little understanding of the spiritual principles on which our country was founded. And we wonder why so many of them can kill, steal, take drugs, and engage in promiscuous sex with no pangs of conscience.

I wonder what happens when Christianity fades away? Does that society devolve into the post-apocalyptic Mad Max world that Dobson imagines?
Let’s compare other Western societies to find out. Looking at quantifiable social metrics (such as homicides, incarceration, juvenile mortality, STDs, abortions, adolescent pregnancies, marriage duration, and income disparity) in 17 Western countries, a 2009 study concluded: “Of the 25 socioeconomic and environmental indicators, the most theistic and procreationist western nation, the U.S., scores the worst in 14 and by a very large margin in 8, very poorly in 2, average in 4, well or very in 4, and the best in 1.”1
Ouch—religiosity is inversely correlated with social health. Sorry, Dr. Dobson.
The obligatory attack on the gays

It is breathtaking to see how hostile our government has become to traditional marriage, and how both Democrats and Republicans are increasingly antagonistic to parental rights, Christian training, and the financial underpinnings of family life.

I assume that “hostile … to traditional marriage” refers to same-sex marriage. I got married 33 years ago, and my state of Washington has legalized same-sex marriage. I’m still waiting for any sign of hostility or belligerence (or even annoyance or crankiness) to my marriage. So far, nothing.
Help me understand this. At a time when Christian traditionalists like Dobson lament the high divorce rate and the acceptability of couples living together and even having children outside marriage, they dismiss a group that is actually embracing marriage.
Same-sex marriage is a celebration of marriage, not an attack. A simple reframing, and a problem turns into an solution. But of course Dobson doesn’t benefit from solutions; he profits only from continued tension.

The hope of the future is prayer and a spiritual renewal that will sweep the nation. It has happened before, and with concerted prayer, could occur again. … If we continue down the road we are now traveling, I fear for us all.

Yeah, an even stronger Christian fundamentalism does sound like a worrisome future since we’ve seen that secular, gay-loving Europe eclipses the U.S. in social metrics.
Yeah, but I need money

Candidly, this ministry continues to struggle financially, and our very survival will depend on the generosity of our constituents in the next two months.

Translated: “Give me some money.”

Please pray with us about the future of this ministry.

Translated: “Give me some money.” (I’ve written before about how prayer requests of this sort admit that prayer is useless.)
I suppose that this kind of lashing out at other people brings in the money. But it’d be nice to see more credible arguments.

The Christian resolution to find the world ugly and bad
has made the world ugly and bad.
— Friedrich Nietzsche

1Gregory Paul, “The Chronic Dependence of Popular Religiosity upon Dysfunctional Psychosociological Conditions,” Evolutionary Psychology, www.epjournal.net (2009). 7(3): 416.
(This is a modified version of a post originally published 11/21/11.)
Photo credit: Refracted Moments

Epitaph

Posted on by

The loss of a loved one leaves a vacancyPaul Vitz was a professor of psychology. His Faith of the Fatherless (1999) attempts to use Freudian techniques to conclude that “modern atheism originated in the irrational, psychological needs of a few prominent thinkers.”
Which Freud are we talking about?  
Presumably this is the same Sigmund Freud who concluded that, according to Karen Armstrong in A History of God, “a personal god was nothing more than an exalted father-figure: desire for such a deity sprang from infantile yearnings for a powerful, protective father, for justice and fairness and for life to go on forever.” Armstrong continues:

[Freud concluded that] God is simply a projection of these desires, feared and worshipped by human beings out of an abiding sense of helplessness. Religion belonged to the infancy of the human race; it had been a necessary stage in the transition from childhood to maturity. It had promoted ethical values which were essential to society. Now that humanity had come of age, however, it should be left behind.

What is it—is Freud a reliable critic of religion or not? Vitz wants it both ways.
The defective father hypothesis
Vitz uses Freudian thinking to conclude that atheists are atheists because of the absence of a good father. Disappointment in one’s earthly father leads to a rejection of the heavenly Father.
He’s yet another Christian apologist who concludes that atheists don’t exist. They’re actually theists. They aren’t atheists because there’s no god; rather, they know that God exists but suppress or reject that knowledge for psychological reasons.
Vitz supports his “defective father hypothesis” by listing believers such as Blaise Pascal, Karl Barth, and Dietrich Bonhoeffer who had present and loving fathers and atheists such as Voltaire, Freud, and (wait for it … !) Hitler who had absent or unloving fathers.
(There’s plenty of reason to argue that Hitler was actually a believer, but let’s ignore that for now.)
This is the argument of a scientist? This is no survey; it’s cherry picking. This correlation that he’s selected can be easily turned around: it’s not that atheists are driven by a poor home life to petulantly reject the Father who is obviously there; rather, Christians are coddled by the strong and wise guidance of their father, and when they mature, they are too weak to face reality and so project a supernatural extension of that caring father onto the universe.
If I could provide the opposite list—famous Christians who had no father figure and famous atheists who did—would Vitz reject his hypothesis? Of course not. He would accuse me of biased selection of the examples, and he’d be right, but why is it okay for him but not me?
Epitaph
What’s especially offensive about this, and again we’re in the realm of anecdote and not statistics, is that my own father was present, strong, and loving. He also put a strong value on education and reason, and I’m the result. I could argue that this and many other examples refute Vitz, but he and his hypothesis are a waste of time.
I’d rather pass on a powerful story written by Charles Handy, an English economist and author. He describes the funeral of his father, a quiet and modest man who had lived his life as an unambitious minister of a small church in Ireland.

When [my father] died, I rushed back to Ireland for the funeral. Held in the little church where he had spent most of his life, it was supposed to be a quiet family affair. But it turned out to be neither quiet nor restricted to the family. I was astounded by the hundreds of people who came, on such short notice, from all corners of the British Isles. Almost every single person there came up to me and told me how much my father had meant to them—and how deeply he had touched their lives.
That day, I stood by his grave and wondered, Who would come to my funeral? How many lives have I touched? Who knows me as well as all of these people who knew this quiet man?
When I returned to London, I was a deeply changed man. Later that year, I resigned my tenured professorship. More important, I dropped my pretense of being someone other than who I was. I stopped trying to be a hot shot. I decided to do what I could to make a genuine difference in other people’s lives. Whether I have succeeded, only my own funeral will tell.
I only wish that I could have told my father that he was my greatest teacher.

My father would have been 84 today.
Photo credit: Kevin

Religion: Billions Into a Black Hole

Posted on by

Religion is a hugely costly machine, but what does it produce? Let’s compare religion to a big corporation since we know how those work.

Take General Motors (on the left of the red revenue scale in the figure above). In 2010, U.S. sales were $73 billion, and that bought three million vehicles. Pretty simple—$73 billion goes in and three million vehicles comes out.
We can peek inside to see where the money goes. Of the incoming revenue, 87% went to automotive cost of sales—manufacturing and materials purchasing. Next, 8% to sales/marketing and G&A (General and Administrative)—the cost to sell the vehicles plus overhead. The final 5% was profit.
Compare this to religion (on the right side of the revenue scale above). In the U.S. for the same year, donations to religion were $101 billion. But that isn’t the only input. Few GM employees spend their free time selling or manufacturing cars, no matter how much they love the company, but religious believers do the equivalent all the time. They volunteer in all sorts of ways for the benefit of religion: evangelizing, serving as deacon or pianist, doing repairs on the church structure, making food for potlucks and bake sales, and so on. How much is this worth? Multiply by a couple hundred million American Christians and we get an extra 50% of income (a very rough guess).
Where does the church’s income go? We don’t know for sure. The IRS grants tax-exempt status to qualified organizations in return for those organizations opening their books to show the public how they spent their money … except for churches and ministries. All we know is that every year about $100 billion (plus a lot of volunteer effort) goes into a black box.
(I’ve written a series of posts about the problem of churches’ non-accountability here.)
Obviously, personnel must be a huge cost—there are roughly 600,000 paid clergy in the U.S. Buildings, land, and other capital outlays are another biggie—megachurches don’t just build themselves.
So, what’s the output? This black box gets twice the input of GM; what’s religion’s equivalent of six million vehicles?
Nothing goes back to society through taxes. Maybe 10% passes through to good works outside the church—or maybe it’s just 2%. We can only guess since churches’ books are closed. Maintenance of the congregation is another expense, and to some extent this is worthwhile—counseling those in need and providing a community for the members.
The rest is the church’s equivalent of marketing—recruiting new members and keeping current members within the fold. General Motors knows that customers of Buick and Cadillac vehicles won’t remain customers without ongoing marketing, and churches know the same.
And maybe that’s the best way to see religion. Religion is a very inefficient route to charitable giving (imagine a charity with more than 90% overhead), and religion isn’t necessary to get the social benefit of community. Those benefits could be provided without the inefficient machinery of the church. Religion must be propped up with marketing as is done with Chevy and Cadillac (with an imaginative dose of fire and brimstone thrown in) to remind customers that they’ve backed the right horse.
GM doesn’t need faith to stay in business, but it’s the only thing keeping religion going.
Inspiration credit: Richard Russell suggested this comparison.

Everybody’s got to believe in something.
I believe I’ll have another drink.
― W.C. Fields

(This is a modified version of a post originally published 11/18/11.)