Purity, but without the balls.

I am so sick of sex-negative religious bullshit. And it's not just because they fill children up with guilt and shame about their bodies and their desires. It's also because they hector other grownups about how they should conduct their sexuality.

Take this video from the Mormon Church, for instance, which focuses on the meaning of 'pure'. (h/t profxm)



Wow, feel the waves of pent-up energy.

George Lakoff, a cognitive linguist, is big on the idea that metaphors are instrumental in guiding our thinking. And it seems to me that the metaphor of 'SEXUAL ABSTINENCE IS PURITY' is being used as a giant Trojan Horse to smuggle in a very sex-negative view.

I'm going to put on my cognitive linguist hat, and try to unpack what's going on with this metaphor.

1. Who would disagree with 'purity'? If purity is an unquestionable good, then going up against it makes you automatically bad. This is an underhanded tactic commonly used when ideas aren't strong enough to be accepted when stated clearly. Run 'abstinence' up the flagpole, and who salutes? Sexually repressed ninnies and religious folk (lots of overlap there, though). Call it 'purity' instead, and it's a lot more palatable.

2. A thing becomes impure by having something else put into it. A pure vial of water becomes impure with the addition of some other liquid. A hypothetical Miss X, before intercourse, was just herself, presumably with no liquids added. She was, if you will, a pure vessel, unadulterated. (Ah, le mot juste. It nicely preserves the etymological link to 'adultery'.) But after sex with Mr Y, she is impure, coated with someone else's sticky remnants inside her.

3. Mr Y, on the other hand, doesn't have very much put into him during (typical) sex. Which is kind of a shame, because it can be nice if done well. Sex doesn't impurify men. They're still 100% themselves (minus a few teaspoons).

4. So, taking this metaphor to a logical conclusion, the consequences of impurity should therefore be more serious for women than for men, since according to this metaphor the Anti-Sex Brigade is handing us, they have more to lose in the purity game.

We could therefore make a prediction that the bulk of efforts toward maintaining 'purity' would focus on women. And indeed, they do. Is it surprising that the young women in the video says the emotional consequences of having sex are serious, "especially for girls"? The Book of Mormon even says that the Lord delights in the chastity of women. And so the Church obsesses over female 'purity', while ignoring the fact that Joseph Smith got as much ass as any sex guru in the modern era (with the possible exception of Brigham Young).

As a linguist, I'm not a fan of language engineering; language is such a big thing that it's hard for any one person or group of people to move it. But this is one instance where the use has taken hold among the religious community, and now they're trying to export it to the rest of us. This is kind of a thing for Christians, who have taken a lot of good words for good things, and crammed them into their own sex-hating definitions.

It's not just the word 'purity'. It's also the word 'morality'. As a Mormon living within the Mormon speech community, I came to think of morality in terms of sexual morality, not in terms of what it took to be a moral person. For many Christians, Bush was a 'moral' leader even though he lied about Iraq, but Clinton was 'immoral' because he got a blow job. This is a perverted standard of morality.

'Virtue' is another. It comes from Latin vir meaning 'man' and it once meant something like 'excellence' and 'valor'. But that's not the prevailing sense among Latter-day Saints, where it just means 'sexual abstinence'.

This use of language debases these concepts among its users, and elevates a standard of behaviour that is easy to measure, but which does nothing to promote actual morality, virtue, or purity.

Lectures on Doubt: What faith is

I once described faith as "the willingness to suspend critical reasoning facilities in the service of a belief for which there is no adequate evidence". Not everyone likes this definition (strangely), so I thought I'd return to the topic of faith and refine it a bit.

You might think it's strange for an atheist to talk about faith in the first place. Perhaps you'd say I couldn't give it a fair treatment, since I don't have any. Which is a typical faith-y thing to say: you don't really understand faith (or you're not qualified to speak about it) unless you've fallen for it completely. You have to take the leap, and then you'll get it. However, if 'faith' means 'fooling yourself', then a person of faith would be the worst person to ask about it. Anyway, humour me. Treat me as a somewhat objective observer. Have a little faith.

On the other hand, you may take exception to my claim that I don't have any faith. Of course I do, you might say. It takes faith to do anything! It takes faith to be an atheist, I've been told. My Uncle Richard used to say that it takes faith to believe that the floor will be there when you get out of bed in the morning. It takes faith for scientists to study a cure for cancer, since they don't know that they'll be successful. It takes faith to believe in, say, evolution. So I've been told.

I don't believe it. When people use this reasoning, they're stretching the definition of faith to encompass everything, which intrudes on other concepts that we already have words for. Defining 'faith' this way makes the word meaningless.

The key insight to what faith is hinges on an understanding of its relationship to evidence, and it's this: If you have evidence for something, you do not need faith in that thing. You just need to open your eyes. For this reason, I describe faith as belief without evidence.

The Book of Mormon agrees fairly well with this assessment. (It's not a source I think much of, but some people do.) It says that once you know something, your faith becomes dormant.

32:17 Yea, there are many who do say: If thou wilt show unto us a sign from heaven, then we shall know of a surety; then we shall believe.

32:18 Now I ask, is this faith? Behold, I say unto you, Nay; for if a man knoweth a thing he hath no cause to believe, for he knoweth it.

Faith is only necessary in the absence of knowledge, according to this author. I'd agree. Insofar as evidence brings you knowledge of a thing, there is no need for faith in that thing where there is evidence for it.

So with that in mind, let's go back to those who think that everything requires faith. Does it require faith to put your feet on the floor, believing it will be there? No. I have a lot of evidence that the floor has been there on previous mornings, and I can infer with some degree of certainty that this morning will be like other mornings. There's a very high probability that the floor will be there, based on the evidence. (If tomorrow morning I turn out to be wrong and fall through the floor, I'll update accordingly.) I may have a 'belief' that the floor will be there, but 'belief' is not the same as 'faith'. I have a 'belief' that I am sitting at a computer writing this, but since this belief is well in evidence, I don't need to exercise any faith in it.

Does a scientist need faith to work on a cure for cancer? No. A scientist may have a reasonable expectation of success, based on (again) evidence, but this is not the same as 'faith'. Perhaps it would be more appropriate to describe this situation as ordinary 'reasoning under uncertainty', the kind we engage in every day. Or perhaps 'hope'.

Do we need to have faith in scientific theories, like evolution? Not at all. You can ask a scientist what evidence led them to that conclusion, and they can tell you. Even better, you can replicate those results yourself, given time, equipment, and expertise. Of course, I haven't actually replicated many scientific results myself. Do I therefore have faith in the scientists? No. It's true that scientists typically function in what could be called a climate of 'trust', but this is optional. People in science can review each others' results -- no faith required.

What happens in faith is something like this: You don't have evidence for something, but you wish it were true, so your faith makes up the difference and allows you to keep believing. It's not knowing something, but believing it anyway. In other words, it's wishful thinking.

Things that you have faith in may not always turn out to be wrong, but they're likely to be, since it's kind of hard to get things right. To get something right, you have to observe, generate ideas about what's happening, control the natural tendency to see what we want to see, and figure out what it would take to prove your idea wrong. Even after you've gotten it mostly right, your idea might need to be refined, or overturned entirely if the evidence demands. That's the cost of making reality your guide. But if you have faith, and you are unmoored from reality, you just keep believing whatever you want! Isn't that easy?

Well, no. Having faith is not easy, especially when contrary evidence is staring you in the face. That's when it takes a lot of tenacity to hold on to faith by sheer force of will. I can see why people would consider it a virtue, since it does take a lot of effort. I don't think it's a coincidence that people speak of 'exercising' faith.

But rather than exercise faith in things for which we lack adequate evidence, how much better it would be to find out the facts, and when facts are scarce, to keep an open mind. Faith needs to be thrown out, and where possible, to be replaced with knowledge.

'Accidental' affairs

There's a story about a cowboy who told the doctor he'd never had an accident. He'd been bitten by a snake, though.

"Goodness," said the doctor. "Wouldn't you call that an accident?"

"Nope," said the cowboy. "The varmint meant to do it."

What called this story to mind is a curious article in today's Deseret News:

Facebook is a breeding ground for accidental affairs

Lawyers are using Facebook as a source for evidence in an increasing number of divorce cases, according to the American Academy of Matrimonial Lawyers. Of lawyers surveyed, 81 percent noted this increase.

"Accidental affairs" are suspected to be the growing result of these online connections, Nancy Kalish, psychology professor at California State University told Bloomberg.

Kalish has found most Facebook cheaters did not set out to have an affair, and even sustained happy marriages before they strayed. But "our brains often romanticize the past, in ways not entirely within our conscious control," according to Bloomberg. "Recollecting people, places and experiences can affect our neurochemistry."

"Accidental affairs"? The term smells of the evasion of responsibility. Spraining your ankle is an accident. Having an affair is a string of careful decisions. It's not an accident, though it might be a mistake.

I used to consort with a group of people who believed in supernatural beings, unseen agents that could influence your behaviour with their lascivious whisperings. For people who believe in such beings, the reasons we do things must be terribly mysterious! You'd never know if you really thought something, or if some succubus had implanted the idea in your brain.

And with your locus of control that far removed from yourself, it would be anyone's guess why you do the things you do. I remember a talk by a church leader where he said that he'd never give a woman a ride home in a car. He'd go home, get his wife, and then give the woman a ride (in the car, I mean) with his wife right there. Now, props for avoiding temptation, certainly. But how did he feel about thinking that -- just because of mere physical proximity -- the decision to go for the gusto with this lady was no longer entirely his? How did she feel with a man who wasn't sure he could control himself?

If someone's flirting on Facebook, wouldn't it be better to admit that they're doing it because they want to? At least then they could get an honest glimpse into their own desires and their horrible marriage, and get some idea of what to do next. Instead of claiming, oh, it was an accident, I didn't mean to. Perhaps even thinking that some external being caused the temptation. And then praying to another one to help them sort it out.

I just can't imagine going back to thinking that way. Now that I think the responsibility for my actions is my own, my reasoning about my actions is a lot more direct and controllable. No mysterious beings. No vicarious expiation, either. Just me.

I give it one star

You've got to give the the LDS Church credit for working the Internet. One of their latest suggestions for members eager to share that gospel message is here (h/t Chino):

Google Reviews for LDS Chapels

This task involves submitting a review of your local meetinghouse to Google. Doing so will help make our local meetinghouses more visible in Google searches for people who are looking for a church to attend.

People can submit Google reviews for churches? Sounds like fun!

You may find a visit here to be pleasant enough. If you decide to investigate the church more in-depth, you will be presented with an escalating series of commitments. At first, it's going to 3-hour church meetings and reading the Book of Mormon. Eventually, you'll have promised to give the church 10% of your income and even more of your time. They offer no evidence for their many outlandish claims, including God living near a star named Kolob, or ancient Hebrews building boats and sailing to America. You're meant to accept all this based on feelings, which are no subsitute for evidence. Mormons are generally nice people, but you probably have better things to do.

Try writing one for your local meetinghouse. It's hard to be concise, but the real trick is to sound sensible and well-reasoned. If you start raving about underwear, then you sound like the crazy one. It's so unfair.

Manatees are fair game again

I don't like to go after religious nutters. Well, I do, but I feel sort of guilty when I do, like I'm going for the easy targets. But I'm approaching this story in a different way, so stick with me.

This story is about manatees and Jesus.

A Citrus County tea party group has announced that it's fighting new restrictions on boating and other human activities in Kings Bay that have been proposed by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.

"We cannot elevate nature above people," explained Edna Mattos, 63, leader of the Citrus County Tea Party Patriots, in an interview. "That's against the Bible and the Bill of Rights."

Their interpretation of the Bible is such that the right of humans to enjoy riding speedboats trumps the rights of manatees to not be killed. Must be that part about having dominion over the Earth, though I think they're defining that a little broadly.

Of course, a religious person could complain that I'm tarring all believers. They could quite rightly say, "That's ridiculous. I'm religious, and I think it's important to save manatees." Good, and I'm glad you're out there.

But this is central to my point: Religious methods are not able to help co-believers to come to an agreement about even the simplest of moral decisions. This wouldn't be a problem, but for the fact that religious people view their religions as (among other things) a morals-delivery mechanism. They routinely claim that their morals come from a god, that their religious system helps people become more moral, and they wonder aloud where people who don't believe in a god get their morals from. For all that, religion seems to give co-believers widely diverging results on moral issues.

Baby names for linguists or celebrities

Natalie Portman has named her firstborn child after a letter.

Natalie Portman and her fiance Benjamin Millepied welcomed a baby boy last month and have finally revealed the name of the baby to be Aleph.

Aleph, also spelled “Alef” and pronounced “All-Eff,” is the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet. Much like how “alpha” is the first letter in the Greek alphabet. In Judaic Kabbalah, its esoteric meaning in the theological treaty Sefer-ha-Bahir, relates to the origin of the universe, the “primordial one that contains all numbers.”

Why the fuss? People name girls 'Beth' all the time, and no one says anything. And if we're talking about Roman letters, 'Bea' or 'Jay'. In fact, a letter is a great idea for a baby name.

So for the more adventurous parents, here are some characters from the world's writing systems that might make good baby names, along with their likely consequences.

	Character: Zel Writing system: Ottoman Turkish alphabet Sounds like: [z] Expect the child to be: Extroverted Future Career: Real estate agent, or MLM scammer
	Character: Fita Writing system: Early Cyrillic Language that uses it: Russian Sounds like: [f] Expect the child to be: Colicky Future Career: Yoga instructor
	Character: Kaunan Writing system: Runic alphabet Language that uses it: Norse Sounds like: [k] Expect the child to be: Needing a search and rescue team at least once Future Career: Artist, cheesemaker, or bikey
	Character: Delt Writing system: Phonecian Sounds like: [d] Expect the child to be: Albino Future Career: Personal trainer, or assassin
	Character: Yat Writing system: Glagolitic alphabet Languages that use it: Slavic Sounds like: [æ] as in 'cat' Expect the child to be: A little slow Future Career: Colour consultant, or unsuccessful real estate agent
	Character: Lo Ling Writing system: Thai Sounds like: [l] (initial), [n] (final) Expect the child to be: Mysterious Future Career: Personal assistant to evil genius, or successful call girl

If you attack the Church, you are attacking me.

Many times, when I make criticisms of religion (or a religion), various practitioners take it personally and say that I'm attacking them.

My answer is: No, I'm not attacking you; I'm attacking your church. If you can't tell the difference between your church and yourself, then you have made a serious mistake. What that means is that you are identifying too closely with the organisation. You have conflated your goals, your future, and your identity with those of the group. You need to fix this. It's not healthy to confuse your own identity with other things that are not you. (It is understandable that high-commitment religions are slow to correct this tendency. It works overwhelmingly to their advantage.)

Many religious folks are able to differentiate, and I quite enjoy talking to them. Many thanks if you're one of these. I have a harder time with the internalisers. I've just had an multi-day online discussion where I started with this notion:

Churches are (among other things) safe places for weak ideas. They’re like shelters for ideas that can’t defend themselves.

I thought this was an interesting idea. I'd always considered that ideas keep religions going, but this was the opposite -- the idea that churches exist as social life-support systems for their ideas -- and it hinted at a commensal relationship. I was hoping for a bit of discussion on the topic. Oh, that it were possible.

It didn't take long before a believer insisted that I was just 'having a go' at religion and that I was implying that all religious people were 'weak-minded fools'. I don't think this, but if someone wanted evidence to the contrary, it was not to be found from his comments. He insisted (without evidence) that angels and demons were real, that science 'didn't know everything', and that his 'feelings of the Spirit' were different from ordinary feelings, and ought to be evidence enough for anyone. Moreover, he was unwilling to consider that his subjective feelings might be in error. All of this was couched in the most tormented reasoning; over the course of 200 comments, he committed the bandwagon fallacy, special pleading, and terminal logorrhea. Well, that's not a fallacy, but ad hominem attacks are; he surmised that I must be a terrible partner if I needed evidence for everything. Not to mention the argument from ignorance -- what proof did I have that God didn't exist? In short, all the devices, defense mechanisms, and poor reasoning that has kept him (and will keep him forever) anchored to his faith. And he managed all this while misreading my initial premise. If he wanted to demonstrate that religious believers were not weak-minded fools, he could have done a better job than he did.

I am not, by nature, a poker of hives. I dissect poor ideas unsparingly, but I try to go easy on actual people (previous paragraph excepted). I don't expect believers to like it. But there needs to be a way to say "I think you've got this wrong".

So if I criticise a religion, what reaction would I expect its members to have? That depends.

• If I'm right, accept it, and move on with a determination to do better.
• If I'm wrong, please tell me. But in the process, don't make me right.

The danger is they might think for themselves.