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| 317 frustrating pages. Yes, that includes the index. |
When
I first read Christopher Hitchens’ God is
Not Great, I was captivated. His prose and conviction sucked me into his
black-and-white battleground of faith vs. reason. I remember reading chapter
eleven of Great, about Joseph Smith
and the rise of the Mormon Church, aloud to my wife just days before we were to
attend a wedding reception for a Mormon friend. “Listen! This is what they
believe!” That was my enthusiasm. Eventually,
I searched the internet for more of his writing. Soon I found Dawkins, Harris,
Dennett, and many more New/Old Atheists, and devoured their work with as much
gusto. I watched God debate after God debate on YouTube, read Hitch’s Missionary Position (his take on Mother
Teresa), and bought The Portable Atheist,
his 400-page tome of atheist readings. Because of Hitch, I almost, almost (emphasis on the al) considered myself an atheist, too.
Then I didn’t.
At first, the problem was The Portable Atheist. As I read, and was
enjoying what other atheist writers had put to paper, I discovered I was
repeating the same phrase: “Wait, Hitch said the same thing.” Halfway through
the book, I realized, duh—all I found in Great
had been said years before. Sadly, in Hitch, there was nothing new.
I felt cheated. After all, atheists,
at least those I hang with, worship Hitch. So, I decided to read God is Not Great once again.
Jesus. What a disappointment.
DISCLAIMER: I’m not arguing the
merits of atheism, absurdities of religion, or how one should conduct their
life, etc. I’m talking about the writing.
I’m talking thesis, ethos, logos, etc. I’m talking sustained argument,
ample/accurate research, and the true insight of an open mind.
Okay. Go.
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| This would have been infinitely more enjoyable. |
Sure, Hitch can string together
sentences and turn clever phrases (Catholic priests molesting children = No
Child’s Behind Left—hil-ar-ious!).
Yet, mostly I felt like throwing the book across the room. What I found in this
reading of Great was consistent
historical errors and theological misinterpretations, logical fallacies galore,
and an overall intellectual dishonesty with the targets of his mean-spirited
accusations. Many times I wondered if any of it should be taken seriously. I
even considered it might parody the New Atheist movement. But Hitch’s tiresome crusade
in the years leading to his passing proves otherwise. The man was dead serious.
Har-har.
#1 – Historical errors and theological
misinterpretations – Toss aside the whole “some Jews still have sex through a
sheet” thing. After complaints that this has always been untrue, Hitch withdrew
the claim and apologized. In the afterword, he says it was a research oversight.
Okay.
But one
glaring example is Hitch’s claim that Pope John Paul II “blessed” Tariq Aziz,
Saddam Hussein’s Deputy Prime Minister and supposed hider of the country’s
there-and-gone WMDs. Aziz was a Chaldean Catholic, and requested an audience
with John Paul II in order to profess his country’s willingness to cooperate
with international forces. John Paul responded by urging Aziz to follow the
UN’s requests so that violence could be avoided. In a sense, he told Aziz to
cut the shit. His “blessing” was, if anything, ceremonial. In no way was the
Iraqi government, Aziz, or the crimes against humanity perpetrated by Hussein’s
administration given the A-okay by JPII. It was not a seal of approval. Yet,
Hitch sure makes it seem that way in the half-assed manner he tosses in this assertion
that is of course meant to defame the Vatican as a religious institution and
show how out of touch such institutions are wont to be.
Research oversight? Come on, Hitch. You’re better
than that.
Or how about Dietrich Bonheoffer “not dying for
Christian principles,” but humanism? I agree with Hitch’s point that atheists
can do as much “good” as any believer. But Bonheoffer? Really? The guy who said
as the Nazis were leading him to the gallows that his life “was just beginning?”
Why not give historical examples of atheists doing “good” instead?
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| Because this is what all religions believe...yawn... |
And Hitch, Justinian didn’t close the Old Academy because
of Christian bias. He opened his own school that taught the same things—it was
competition. He might have been a religious nut, but his nuttiness didn’t cause
him to close down a center for philosophy (oh, the knee-jerk vocab—“philosophy”—that
must mean science and reason!).
Or how about Tertullian, one of the Church fathers,
condemning all unbelievers to Hell? Well, he only meant the Roman hierarchy who
persecuted Christians, and given the bloodshed, who can blame him? Sure, the
guy said some stupid shit in his lifetime, but at least get your theological
context straight, Hitch.
Or how about firefighters “don’t eat pork” because
it smells like human flesh? What?! Where is your scientific data Mr. Reason? I
have several firefighters in my family that won’t turn down a tasty pork chop. Yes,
yes, this claim connects to his chapter about religious prohibitions on swine
and that one is a doozy, too. According to Hitch, pork was probably banned from
dinner tables because it’s so closely related to us that the ancients couldn’t
bear the experience of killing an animal that shares so many of our genes.
Thing is, they didn’t know why this appalled them. It was an unconscious thing,
you understand. Or something like that. You could skip the chapter if you
wanted. It doesn’t add much.
And neither does the chapter titled “The
Metaphysical Claims of Religion Are False.” Here, he presents no real arguments,
and instead merely says miracles or promises of an afterlife are bogus since A)
he doesn’t believe them, and B) such claims come from primeval history when
people didn’t know “science.” I wish Hitch would’ve taken the time to explain
what he thinks metaphysics is or would’ve taken the time, as David Bentley Hart
aptly points out, to better understand Nietzsche’s “God is Dead” metaphor. But
such scholarship would break his
rhetoric. After all, Hitch is supposed to be arguing why religion poisons
everything. Or that there is no god. Or that god sucks.
Here is the major problem with the book. What the
hell is Hitch trying to say? It can’t be the rhetorical exaggeration that
religion poisons everything. Never
mind this unscientific claim, so abstract as to encompass nothing. Religion poisons art? Writing? The African fur trade? Yes,
religion gets people to do fucked up things, but so does politics, social
standing, consumerism, family. Etc, etc, etc. Who doesn’t know this? So, what’s
your solution, Hitch? Do you have anything new
to say? And please, for the love of all things holy, stop with the series of
spotlight arguments. I get it—fundamentalist Hindus blaming the 2004 Indonesian
tsunami on Christian missionaries is stupid, and so is Tim Dwight arguing
against smallpox vaccinations, and so are Muslim extremists flying planes into
buildings. I agree already. But in the words of George Costanza, “Give me
something I can use!”
Again and again and again, Hitch refuses to gnaw the
bone, to get to the marrow of the argument. Instead, he blah blahs.
The best example of his laziness is his use of Ockham’s
razor. Does he know Ockham was a monk? I guess that doesn’t matter. Anyway, in
Hitch’s world the Razor declares that the simplest theory is best, the one that
makes the least assumptions. Still, this begs the question, why is there existence, natural laws,
consciousness, etc.? Why is the key,
not how. The simplest explanation isn’t
best, but rather the simplest explanation that best explains phenomena and is justified
by the complexity of the phenomena itself. Otherwise, we’ll end up asking
the same question. It’s a metaphysical
question!
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| I have no reason for including this other than I thought it was cool. That atheist druid is so freakin' ripped! |
Yet, Hitch avoids this. Why? Well, then he’d have to
say something new.
I could go on (don’t get me started on his New
Testament chapter), but what would be the point? You get it. Yeah, sometimes
religious people do things for stupid, backasswards religious reasons. Okay, in
that I’m a believer. What then can/should we do? Well, we don’t solve it with
pure vitriol, that’s for sure, ’cause
where’s the reason in that?
In the end, Hitch and I share many beliefs, but as
an author, philosopher and firebrand—and as a receiver of $15,000 checks for
debating so-called “delusional people of faith” by pretty much reciting chapter
and verse from Great at every venue—man,
you’ve got to bring it better than this. Has our outrage at our failed cultural
institutions, which is to say a failure in ourselves, grown so maddening that we accept and applaud Great
as quality writing? Or are texts like these merely outlets for our
frustrations? I wonder how Hitch’s heroes—Voltaire, David Hume, Spinoza, and
the like—would react to experiencing his work as a shining example of modern intellectualism.
To quote Voltaire: “It is easier to judge the mind of a man by his questions rather than his answers.”
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