Comparing the old and new atheists: My interview with Dr. Kevin Vost, Part II

Hooray! Back to more with Dr. Kevin Vost, as he explains some of the differences between the old atheists and the new atheists. Catch up with Dr. Vost's first question and answer, here, at Part I.

"Superman" (Nietzsche) and "The Angelic Doctor" (Aquinas)
Art by Theodore Schluenderfritz

My second question:


Q.  So, did you understand those philosophical principles back when you were a practicing atheist, or are you classifying your beliefs in retrospect, looking back as a Catholic? I ask because one of the things that struck me in your book (which squares with something I've heard Fr. Barron say) is that although the older atheists, i.e., the existentialists, had some real intellectual depth, the new atheists don't have knowledge of the great philosophers, have no real understanding of the depth of wisdom and thought throughout the ages. It's like the new atheists are not connected to anything, or somehow do not work in reason and logic in the same way the old atheists did. Do I have that right?


A. I believe you (and Fr. Barron) hit the nail on the head. I sometimes tell people I couldn't have been pulled away from the faith by the "new atheists" because 1.), I'm too old, and 2.), I knew a little philosophy. It was the older atheists who had some sense of intellectual history who lured me away from the faith. Bertrand Russell was an eminent philosopher himself. Ayn Rand, who rarely gave credit to predecessors, wrote that her philosophy was the natural development and fulfillment of Aristotle's. (Because of that influence, unlike almost all other prominent atheists who are relativists, Rand believed in objective truth. Hence, she called her system "Objectivism.")  Psychologist Albert Ellis acknowledged that his vastly successful system of Rational-Emotive Behavior Therapy found its origins, not in modern psychological theory and research, but in the philosophy of the ancient Greek and Roman Stoics. So, the folks who pulled me toward atheism saw their connection with the great ideas of the past, but saw their role as developing them further. They also led me to read the great ancient thinkers themselves. It did not hit me fully until decades later that those great foundational pagan thinkers (e.g., Socrates, Aristotle, Cicero, Epictetus, Seneca, Marcus Aurelius) were not  atheists. Though they did not know Christ, their reasoning led them toward belief in God.

So, when I left the Church, I did come to believe those four key ideas I laid out and I thought I grasped their principles. Still, it did not occur to me until the last year or so, to lay them out that way in how they relate to four key areas of philosophy.

As for the "new atheists" who are popular today, when I've read their books I've been stunned by their lack of awareness or acknowledgement of the wisdom of the past. They seem to think reason came into the world when they attained their own reasoning capacity in their own teenage years. I remember in 2010 when an atheistic group put up an anti- Christmas billboard in New York, their message included a phrase about their group being "reasonable since 1963." I thought I'd like to see a billboard from the Catholic Church stating "reasonable since 33."

I find a huge intellectual hubris or overweening arrogance among some of the new atheists.  They dismiss religion despite the slimmest acquaintance with religious history and its philosophical and theological underpinnings that have the deepest roots in human intellectual history. Ironically, at the same time, they promote the idea that truly smart and well-educated people do not believe in God. Forgive me for quoting myself, but I summed it up this way in From Atheism to Catholicism: "How grand it must be to so confidently declare that the profound questions which so taxed the greatest minds in human history are mere child's play for one's own."

This is not to say that there are not some philosophers among the new atheists, or that their ideas are not influenced by philosophy (whether or not they are aware of it.) Their ideas, however, are influenced by modern philosophy, the philosophy of the last several hundred years that neglected or misunderstood the perennial truths of Aristotle and St. Thomas. These ideas led to materialistic, mechanistic views of the universe with so many inconsistencies and problems that modern-day philosophers are rarely heard in the public square. They embrace what Blessed Pope John Paul II described as a scientism -- an impoverished view of reason that seeks truths in the material realm, ignoring the spiritual and ethical dimensions of reality. (For those who would care to look any deeper into the problems of modern philosophy, I recommend Mortimer Adler's Ten Philosophical Mistakes, and Edward Feser's Aquinas, as well as JPII's Fides et Ratio - Faith and Reason.)

Interestingly, as for as this intellectual pride or hubris among the new atheists, the greatest thinkers in the history of humanity took an opposite approach and arrived at the opposite conclusion. Pick up the writings of Aristotle or St. Thomas Aquinas, and without fail, you will see that whenever they address an important issue, they begin with a careful and accurate survey of what others before them believed, before they apply their reason (and Scripture for St. Thomas), weigh the pros and cons, and arrive at their conclusions. Neither believed that reason entered the world the day that he was born!


Dr. Vost's words remind me of a post that I have had in draft form for months, from an exchange I had with some "new atheists" on another blog. I think I might finally dust it off and publish it next, as it really is an illustration of what he just said.

Stay tuned!

Guest post by Stacy: Is there an eclipse of reason in education?

Thank you to the lovely Stacy Trasancos, at Accepting Abundance, for today's guest post!

Eclipse: “Absence, cessation, or deprivation of light.”

Reason: “To think something through.”

I never knew what a parochial school was until our kids entered a small private Catholic school about six years ago. I had no idea about the history of the university and no clue what the “Ph” in Ph.D. really meant even as I proudly appended the title to my name. Then I became Catholic and my eyes were opened. 

I grew up in Texas in the 1970s and 1980s and I remember that history class was a joke, usually taught by a coach with more important things to do, and although I loved learning, it seemed the ultimate end in all classes was to make good grades. Why? So you can go to college. Why? So you can get a job. 

When I taught high school in Texas in the 1990s it was the same. Teachers had to submit lesson plans for specific state-directed objectives. Grading had to reflect a bell curve and students had to pass standardized exams. Funding and grades were the metrics to show that people were learning. Why? College and a job. The cultural message was also that women could be anything a man could be and so they should not settle for baking cookies and just being a housewife.

When my own daughter started Kindergarten in Pennsylvania, I began graduate school; I was living out the “get a job” mentality. I thought it was great that my daughter could get bussed off to school for “free” and I didn’t have to worry about anything. It was no different when my son started school in 2000 in Virginia. I even availed myself of the school lunches and after-school programs so I could work long hours at my VIP job, which I worked my whole life to achieve. 

Then in 2004 I began conversion to Catholicism, and little by little life started making more sense. For one, I realized children matter much more than careers. We began homeschooling in Massachusetts and continued for four years. As I changed, I also started to understand learning and education in a new light, not as something to get a job but as something to complete yourself, to know yourself, to understand your world.

When my daughter wanted to go back to public school for her junior year so she could experience a senior year graduation, we let her. She took the state standardized tests and maxed out the score. She made good grades. She was even inducted into the National Honor Society, successful by all objective measures. Then in April, after she had nearly completed her whole junior year, an administrator called to tell us she could not graduate the next year because she needed 24 credits to graduate. They literally wanted her to go to high school for four years and graduate at age 20. Needless to say, she got her GED and quit. We pounded on the school board for two years and got the senseless rule changed, but that experience really landed home the idea that public school is not about learning, but about an over-reliance on numbers and money. 

Eventually my son, weary of three baby sisters, wanted to end homeschooling. My husband suggested parochial school, and that’s when my eyes were fully opened. To enroll, the parents had to bring the student for an interview. The building was 100 years old and walking into it felt like stepping back in time, in stark contrast to the city’s new $50 million vocational high school that appears to be a glamorous shopping mall. Anyway…

When we met the principal, she showed genuine interest in my son and his spiritual development, in our family as a whole, and in introducing us to everyone else. The school was much like homeschooling, only in a bigger family. He started the next day because he said he wanted to, and so the principal even gave him uniforms from the recycled clothing closet to spare us a hasty trip to the uniform store.

Six years later we are preparing for the fifth child to enter that same school. It is a much fuller experience than what I experienced in four different states as a student, a teacher and a parent over the span of nearly 30 years. It’s not so much that it is a Catholic private school as it is the approach Catholics in general take towards education, wherever their kids go for instruction. 

The education is basic, chalkboard style “learn-to-take-pride-in-your-work” and “you-get-what-get-and-you-don’t-get-upset” kind of stuff.  It is practical, solid and no-nonsense, grounded in reason and wisdom. The children read the classics, learn to sing and dance, and being rude is a serious offense. Everyone is expected to take care of things, including the old building (which is paid for). The teachers spend as much time educating the children about moral responsibility as they do teaching them how to read, write and do arithmetic. 

I’ve never known a single student who dropped out or graduated unable to read, and the teens actually look me in the eyes and open doors for me when I visit. They engage, and can speak about a range of issues. The baby in my arms is usually grabbed and passed around by giggling adolescent girls and curious boys. 

Sure people will say that the school is excellent because it’s private and there’s lots of money. Nope. I dug up some numbers regarding the cost. The state spends four times as much to educate a single student as we do. It is worth noting that many students at our school are not Catholic or do not have the money for tuition. The Church welcomes them anyway with whatever they can afford, and Catholics share the rest of the bill.

In the US, Catholics educated 2.1 million students in the 2009-2010 school year with our own 10 billion dollars, thus saving the American taxpayer over $22 billion dollars in education expenses. The average cost per student was $4,800. The public schools spend over twice this much, $10,400 per student. And even though we educate kids at less than half the cost, Catholic education stands head and shoulders above every other form of education that we have in this country. The national Catholic school graduation rate is 99.1% of high school students.  Of these graduates, 84.7% go on to college, compared to 44.1% of public school graduates. 

Regarding the university, well, I’ve learned that is a Catholic idea too. In the words of Blessed Cardinal John Henry Newman, a university is a “place of teaching universal knowledge.”  The word comes from the Latin word “universitas” which means community, corporation, totality – universality. Catholic means universal, whole, united, too. Catholics are big on wholeness and unity!

Catholics, in medieval times, started the first universities to pass on knowledge. The earliest universities were developed under the aegis of the Church in Western Europe.  It was only later that the state took over education. Just like I’ve met impressive children with Catholic educations, I’ve met impressive college graduates, too, from traditional Catholic universities, at least half of whom are young women either happily raising a family or looking forward to it. The men and women are versed in the richness of history and the classics, and they present themselves with a sense of dignity and propriety. I don’t think I’ve ever heard a Catholic-educated child refer to me by my first name.

As to philosophy, although most college students today don’t know what that word really means, the classical meaning of the word dating back to ancient Greece is a “love of wisdom.” In early universities, all reasoned discourse and knowledge was philosophy. Education is supposed to be about answering ultimate questions, the search for a worldview, the search to know the important things in life that we need to seek and to strive for as human beings.  It is the development of the self in relation to what has come before, what comes after and all that exists in the present. 

Comparing the truncated, superficial (and expensive) education in our country today with the ancient wisdom of the Church leaves me with the ominous sense that education in the US has experienced an eclipse of reason. I wonder how long it will take people to realize that, just like love, when knowledge is pursued without seeking higher transcendental ends where we are eternally responsible for our actions, the result is never satisfying or sustainable. An economic system can only sustain so many people making grades for the sole sake of getting a job, people who do not possess the foundation of understanding and wisdom to know why they should work in the first place, or what truth they are working toward.

“Faith and reason are like two wings on which the human spirit rises to the contemplation of truth; and God has placed in the human heart a desire to know the truth—in a word, to know himself—so that, by knowing and loving God, men and women may also come to the fullness of truth about themselves.”   Fides et Ratio




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Meaning and purpose: Answering "Choice", Part Two

What a difference a few days make! When "Choice" and I first went head to head, it was a tad adversarial. But since then, we have come to a place of mutual respect. I am engaging her here again, and this time it's amicable. :)

Choice's words are in red italics. My thoughts are in blue.

I told Choice that an atheist would have to believe that, in the end, life is absolutely meaningless. 

She responded:

Meaningless in your sense of the word, perhaps. But I think you’re deriving your meaning from your religious view of the world, no? [I'm thinking of objective meaning as opposed to subjective meaning.] Central to your belief system is the faith that there is something bigger than what tangibly exists in this world and that after this life, we go on to that bigger place. [I'd say that it's as much about our origin as our destination.] And that’s fine. But just because my viewpoint lacks that particular outcome doesn’t mean it’s meaningless. It just means it doesn’t fit into your idea of meaningfulness.


[She then quoted me]: “So to me, it's as if the atheist is living life based only on feelings. There is nothing else, nothing lasting or objectively true.”


This kind of puzzles me. First, you say the atheist is living life based on feelings. Actually, the atheist is living life based on what is seen, felt, heard, demonstrated empirically, and known to be true. It is the religious who are living based on faith, based on that which cannot be seen, heard, or empirically proven. I’m not saying one approach is objectively better or worse than the other, but it just kind of startled me that you said the atheist is living life based on feelings. 


I can see why you would think that, but I want to challenge you on that a little further down in the post….

Secondly…why does there have to be something ”else”? Why isn’t the earth and the beauty of nature and the intricate interconnectedness of life systems and the AMAZING displays of science enough? 


But enough for whom? 


You are a First World, educated woman with good food to eat and nice clothes to wear, decent health care, and freedom of speech and movement. As an educated American, you are of the world's privileged class. You have the leisure time and resources to study all the beauty and intricate interconnectedness around us, because you are not busy trying simply to survive. You will no doubt enjoy a relatively comfortable, terror-free, famine-free, war-free existence before you go "poof" and cease to exist. 


But what of the suffering child in Africa? What meaning does her life have if she cannot extract all the goodness and beauty of life and the universe? If she cannot see and enjoy its interconnectedness because she can barely see or think past her starvation and disease? Who is she? Is she anyone? And if so, how? Why? Those questions are not rhetorical. I really want to know. And I don't mean "What is her potential?" nor do I want a list of what we can do (or aren't doing) to help her. I want to know what her meaning and worth is right now in her abject suffering.


And it’s incredibly lasting, because it continues on long after I’m gone, and supports many more generations of life. 


With all due respect, so what? How is length of time (or whatever "lasting" means) significant here? If we all go poof in the end, so what if things last for a while after you are gone? Why are “generations of life” ultimately important or purposeful in your worldview? It all means nothing in the end, when everything is gone. And no one cares. And you were no one. And neither was anyone else. You and I and everyone were accidents of a mindless cosmic burp, and nothing of any of us will be left behind to show for it. 


And it’s objectively true, because I can see it and if I so choose, I can study it and prove its postulates.

Last summer, I posed a couple of questions to atheists. One of them relates to what you just said: 

Atheists believe that "gathering knowledge" and "intellectual curiosity" are important (and I agree wholeheartedly). My question: If your brain is the product of randomness and chance, then why do you trust your brain to give you true information?

Maybe that is a silly question to you, but I would love an understandable answer.

Back to feelings. You said that you don't live your life based on feelings. But when I asked you why we all need to get along if there is no God and no ultimate meaning, you said this:

And why do we all need to get along if there is no God? Because it’s a lot more pleasant for everyone involved. Because I think 90% of people would say it’s more enjoyable and more fulfilling to live in a kind manner and to live in harmony with other people rather than screw everyone else over for selfish reasons. Because wanting to live in a loving community of people isn’t just a Catholic wish. And because moral behavior doesn’t have to be defined by the Bible, it can also be defined by the happiness and fulfillment and contentment that we feel when we exist peacefully as members of a community. 


All the emphases are mine, but I hope you see my point. Your morality is based on how things make people feel, isn't it?


And similarly, when you talked about the "beauty of nature and the intricate interconnectedness of life systems and the AMAZING displays of science", you are again talking about the way those things make you feel, aren't you? You “feel” awe, you “feel” compelled to know more. 


But beyond how the observance and study of these things make you feel, they really have no ultimate purpose, do they? Okay, so things can be demonstrated empirically and shown to be true… but for what end? Why does truth matter? How can truth ultimately mean anything at all, when existence itself is a random accident?

In the comment thread, you said:


I don't feel that my life is purposeless or meaningless because I don't have an omnipotent, omniscient being designing it or guiding it or rewarding me for the good things I do or reprimanding me for the bad things I do. That's not the definition of "purpose" or "meaning" for me.


From what I understand of your position, your life's meaning is derived from … you. You have decided that your life is meaningful, based on the joy and happiness you feel, and the satisfaction you get from your relationships and choices. 


Correct me if I am wrong.


But if I am right about your position, then what of the abandoned baby girl in China, left to suffer and die from exposure? In your opinion, what is the purpose and meaning of her life? What of the nasty old man who has no friends, and whom no one will miss when he dies? What is the purpose and meaning of his life? How about the serial killer? The unwanted unborn child? The brain injured woman who cannot speak or walk? The suicidal teen? 


What is the purpose and meaning of their lives, in the atheist's worldview? Do they have inherent value? If so, what is its source?


I’m not a philosopher. I'm not even sure that these are the right questions to ask. But they're the ones that I can’t reconcile when I ponder the implications of atheism.


So please, help me see. Tell me why your life or anyone's life has any objective purpose, meaning or value. And if you can't say that it does, then what are we left with but feelings and subjectivism?