New Year’s Resolution: Live as an Adult

We live in a childish age.  This is an era of immediate gratification, temper tantrums, and short attention spans.  It’s time to grow up.  Here’s an idea for a new year’s resolution: let’s live like adults.

This is an ancient resolution.  In the Second Century, the philosopher Epictetus said “Grow up!  Stop behaving like a child.”  Now is the time to get serious.  “The Olympic games are now,” he said.  Stop procrastinating and start living a good life. 

But it is easy to mope and whine like spoiled children.  We are childish when we expect the world to satisfy our wishes.  The truth is that reality does not conform to your egoistic expectations.

It is difficult to be an adult.  There are bills to pay and work to be done.  There are battles to be fought and losses to be endured.  Adults understand that life is difficult and that it takes hard work.  Adults do their duty.  They avoid self-indulgence and ingratitude. 

Adults also understand that nothing lasts forever.  They prepare for death, realizing that everyone dies and that the world imposes significant limits upon what we can achieve.

The word adult has an intriguing etymology.  It comes from a Latin word for growth, related to the word adolescence.  An adolescent is one who is growing.  An adult has completed that process. 

To be an adult is to be ripe and mature.  Fruit also ripens.  Each creature has its own path of maturation and completion.  The playful puppy becomes a dog who hunts, defends, and stays loyal to its pack.  The sapling grows through several seasons until it produces flowers and fruit.

To be mature is to have reached the final stage of development.  It implies a sense of completion and fulfillment.  Maturity depends on what we take as the essence of the thing that is ripening. 

In our culture, we tend to think that the human essence is defined by liberty and license.  They key coming-of-age milestones in our culture are about the freedom to consume.  At age 21, we gain the freedom to drink alcohol, smoke pot (in California anyway), and gamble.  There are other milestones.  At 16, you can drive a car.  At 18, you can vote. 

It is a sad world in which the entry into adulthood is marked by your ability to buy beer.  Perhaps this is why we often fail to grow up.  In our culture, too many adults are focused on consumption, sensual indulgence, and self-satisfaction.

The philosophical tradition has a different notion of the human essence.  This idea holds that to be fully human is to develop wisdom and virtue.  Adolescents are not yet virtuous or wise.  But adults have ripened to the point at which wisdom and virtue are possible.  This is not about liberty and consumption.  Rather, it is about self-restraint and obedience to the moral law.  Adults know how to control their bodily urges.  They also understand that there are duties and obligations that must be fulfilled. 

At what age does wisdom and virtue become possible? 

Plato suggested that at around age 50 people had the capacity to rule themselves (and others) wisely.  The U.S. Constitution holds that you have to be 25 to run for the House, 30 to run for Senate, and 35 to run for President.

Of course, age is merely a number on a calendar.  Some young people are wiser than their parents.  And some old people are foolish.  The point is to grow up. 

The poet Horace once said: “To begin is only half the battle.  Now is the time for the audacity of wisdom.  Begin!” Horace was referring to a timid animal standing beside a river, waiting for the water to stop flowing for its chance to cross.  We might picture this as a juvenile, waiting for its chance to jump into the flow of life.

But the river stands still for no one.  The point is to take the plunge and get going.

So here is a philosophical new year’s resolution: let’s resolve to be adults.  That means we should be audacious in the pursuit of wisdom.  We should overcome childish self-indulgence.  And we should get to work on being good. 

Abortion, Unwanted Pregnancy, and the Really Big Questions

As the Supreme Court revisits the abortion debate with the case of Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, let’s consider a broader and more systematic point of view.  Abortion is not a first choice or a best choice.  No woman gets pregnant intending to have an abortion.  Rather, abortion comes up as a choice only after something else has gone wrong. 

Outlawing abortion is a simplistic solution to a complex problem.  The problem is unwanted pregnancy—and any solution to that problem must involve many significant changes in our social lives that would need to occur to make unwanted pregnancies less likely.  This is related to the idea that abortion should be “legal but rare,” an idea I have discussed in more detail elsewhere.

The legal debate involves complex Constitutional questions.  Was the right to privacy articulated in Roe v. Wade wrongly “invented” by the Court in its 1973 decision, as conservatives argue?  What is the status of Roe as a precedent?   How does the idea of a right to privacy connect with other issues involving sex, marriage, and family law?

Those legal questions are different from the really big moral questions.  A fundamental moral question is “who counts as a moral patient?” This begs us to consider what kind of being a fetus is (and at what stage in its development it attains moral status).  The moral status of a fetus relates to the rights of its mother.  This includes the fact that the fetus is entirely dependent upon her.  I discuss these issues in much more detail in my ethics textbook and in a recent column

Abortion is considered as an exception to the general idea that pregnancy usually is a positive thing.  It is usually good to give birth.  But some pregnancies are unwanted.  One significant issue is pregnancy that results from rape and incest.  Another issue involves pregnancies that can harm a mother.  Another issue involves disabled fetuses.  And then there are cases in which a woman is just not ready—economically or psychologically—to become a mother.  Pregnancy can occur at the wrong time or for the wrong reasons.  And pregnant women can encounter physiological, psychological, economic, and social hardships.

What kind of a social world would we have to create so that unwanted pregnancy could be avoided and those hardships could be ameliorated?

Such a world would involve free and easy access to birth control and sex education—beginning at the age at which conception can occur.  This would empower women to avoid pregnancy in the first place.  A changed world would involve the end of sexual manipulation and deception.  This is not only about rape but also about less violent forms of sexual exploitation and coercion that occur in a world where women are objectified and manipulated by men into having sex.  A world with fewer abortions would be a world in which women had power over their lives, the bodies, and their sexuality.

Other issues arise in relation to fetal abnormality and women’s health.  A world with fewer abortions would include much better healthcare.  This better world would remedy environmental factors that contribute to fetal abnormality and unhealthy pregnancies.  Such a world would also provide substantial supports for disabled children and their families.  And in such a world, women’s health would be prioritized throughout a woman’s life.

Of course, this is not our world.  We live in a world in which women are objectified and manipulated into sex.  We live in a world in which sexual education often fails to enlighten and in which no one really discusses sexual ethics.  In our world, birth control is often not easily available.  We live in a world in which poverty, pollution, and lack of healthcare afflict far too many women and families.   

As the Court revisits Roe v. Wade, let’s also reconsider our social world.  The Court will decide a narrow question of whether states can limit or ban abortion.  This will not make unwanted pregnancies go away.  Even if Roe is overturned, illegal abortions will occur in states that ban it and women who want abortions (and can afford it) will travel to states that are more permissive. 

Meanwhile, in the background are significant social problems that come to a head in the issue of unwanted pregnancy.  Let’s work to solve those problems by empowering women, providing better sexual education (including education about sexual ethics and birth control), and by imagining substantial changes in our economic and healthcare systems. 

Be Thoughtful About Giving Thanks

Thanksgiving provides an opportunity to reflect on gratitude.  I’ve written a number of columns over the years about Thanksgiving and the spirit of gratitude.  It is good to be grateful.  But gratitude requires honesty.  And giving thanks should be grounded in truth. 

It is possible, after all, for gratitude to be mistaken.  We can thank the wrong person, for example.  Or we can misunderstand what we are thankful for.  Gratitude misfires, for example, if I thank someone for a gift that they did not give me.  We’ve got to get the facts right, when we express gratitude.  We also need a correct interpretation of those facts.

Nor does it make sense to be thankful for “bad gifts.”  It is not appropriate to give an alcoholic booze for his Christmas.  Nor should a drunk really be thankful for such a present.  Gift-giving and thankfulness imply that the gift is beneficial and represents goodwill.

Moreover, saying thanks does not justify misdeeds.  If someone eats the pumpkin pie on my plate without my consent, saying “thanks” does not make the theft OK.

All of this is especially important at Thanksgiving, when our rituals are infused with misleading myths that conceal terrible misdeeds

The Thanksgiving myth celebrates religious freedom and hospitable relations between European settlers and Native Americans.  These are noble ideas.  Religious liberty ought to be celebrated.  And hospitality is important.  Unfortunately, both ideas are mythological when it comes to the Pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. 

The Christian colonizers viewed the natives as heathens.  The colonizers did not respect indigenous religions.  Nor did the Puritan colonists tolerate Christian dissenters: Quakers were persecuted in New England, as were figures such as Roger Williams and Ann Hutchinson (see Smithsonian for details). When it comes to religious liberty today, it is the First Amendment we ought to thank—not the Pilgrims. 

The European colonists were not friendly to the natives.  Columbus himself began the process of enslaving the natives on American mines and plantations, while also exporting slaves to Europe. The African slave trade grew as the Native America slaves began to die out from European diseases. 

By the time the Pilgrims landed over 100 years after Columbus, European diseases had already decimated native populations.  The land of the Pilgrim’s pride had originally been cleared by natives who had recently died. 

The Pilgrims were aided in their settlement by Squanto, a native American who had been taken to Europe as a slave.  Squanto returned to his homeland only to find that his tribe was dead from disease.

There is even more to the story.  I recommend Loewen’s “Lies My Teacher Told Me” as a useful source that dispells the myths of the first Thanksgiving and discloses the horrible truths of European colonialism.

Now let’s ask what we should be thankful for today about this history.

Should we be thankful that Native peoples such as Squanto were enslaved—and thus had the linguistic skills that allowed him to help the Pilgrims? 

Should we be thankful for the plague that killed the Indians before the Pilgrims arrived?  In 1629, John Winthrop seemed to thank God for that “miraculous” plague that left the country “void of inhabitants.”  Is it appropriate to thank God for the diseases that depopulated the continent?

These questions remind us that not everyone views Thanksgiving as a time of celebration.  Native American activists have declared this a “day of mourning.”  A plaque commemorating this reads: “Thanksgiving Day is a reminder of the genocide of millions of Native people, the theft of Native lands, and the relentless assault on Native culture.”

Some might conclude that this shows that gratitude is relative.  Not everyone will be grateful for the same thing. 

There is some truth here.  But relativism is a cop out.  Objective facts matter when it comes to gratitude.  The more important problem is that we can be mistaken in our gratitude and misled by our myths.  These mistakes can lead us to give thanks for the wrong things.

And so, as we enter into the holiday season, let’s enjoy giving gifts and giving thanks.  But let’s be careful about the gifts we give.  And let’s be thoughtful about what we are thankful for. 

An Atheist at the Parliament of the World’s Religions

I participated in the (October 2021) meeting of the Parliament of the World’s Religions on a panel focused on compassion as a religious and non-religious value. I represented the non-religious point of view in conversation with Dr. Peter Admirand (Dublin City University, and my co-author on Seeking Common Ground), Dr. Veena Howard (a scholar of South Asian religions and my colleague at Fresno State), and Dr. Laura Novak Winer (a rabbi and a professor at Hebrew Union College ).

Earlier that morning, the Dalai Lama had addressed the Parliament. He said, “all religions have something to teach us.” And, “the essence of all religious teaching is compassion.”

Dalai Lama at Parliament of World’s Religions 2021

This important claim asks us to think critically about the long history of religious violence and intolerance. It may be the case that compassion is taught in every religion. But religious people can fail to be compassionate.

The same point is true, of course, for non-religious people. Secular regimes can lack compassion. And atheists can be cold-hearted.

But there is a place for compassion in atheism. Atheists emphasize the fact of human mortality. We all suffer and die. There is no sense in adding to the cruelty of the world. Rather, we should avoid violence and spread good will.

Atheists should acknowledge that human brains and bodies have evolved to include a substantial place for compassion and communal feeling. We are social animals thrown onto a small planet in the middle of the vastness. We should find way to laugh and sing and mourn together (an idea I’ve explored in my book Compassion).

These shared experiences are a focus of religious life. One need not accept the metaphysical pronouncements of religious traditions in order to understand that compassion is good for us and that love and community help us live well.

Unfortunately, the philosophical tradition has often looked askance at compassion. Kantian morality is focused on universal duty detached from emotion. Such an approach may dismiss compassion as a soft, emotional value.

Kant also dismissed the extravagant claims of superstitious religion. In defending his idea of a “pure religion” of reason (in Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason), Kant espoused a religion “cleansed of the nonsense of superstition and the madness of enthusiasm.”

Humanistic ethics has evolved to include much more than Kantian universality. We know that compassion is an important part of ethics. And we should understand that people find meaning in religion without simply dismissing it as superstition and nonsense.

This is one reason it is important for atheists, humanists, and philosophers to participate in inter-religious and interfaith dialogue. It is not easy to dismiss another person’s faith when you know them as a real person. Interfaith and inter-religious conversations are promoting solidarity in a world that still includes much religious intolerance. Atheists and humanists need to participate in these conversations because there is often intolerance and misunderstanding across the religious/nonreligious divide.

There are challenges, of course. Atheists sometimes seem to enjoy picking fights with religious believers. Religious people sometimes sling mud in the direction of atheism. I think we should all be more tolerant, hospitable, and compassionate.

This does not mean that we ignore the fundamental disagreements between religious and nonreligious people. But it is possible to be compassionate in our disagreements. Each of us is trying to make sense of life. Some find answers in religion, in all of its complex variety. Others turn away from religion entirely. So long as there is no violence, oppression, and hostility, we can co-exist. And if we take the time to listen to one another, we might find common ground in the shared human struggle to learn, love, and live.

If you are interested in these issues, please join me as I discuss our new book, Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue with Peter Admirand, at a book launch and panel discussion on November 4, 11:30AM Pacific Time. The panel will be in Dublin, Ireland. I’ll join by Zoom. For Zoom details, contact Peter Admirand: peter.admirand@dcu.ie.

Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue

I’m pleased to announce the publication of a new book , Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue, that I’ve co-authored with Peter Admirand, a Catholic theologian at Dublin City University. We worked together to think about our differences and what we share in common.

I’m an atheist. Peter is a believer. We disagree about some important and fundamental things. But we share the belief that dialogue and mutual understanding are crucially important in our polarized and divided world.

The book is framed by seven virtues of dialogue: curiosity, compassion, and courage, as well as honesty, honoring our commitments, humility, and the desire for harmony. If more people exercised these virtues the world might be a better place. The goal is not to erase our differences but, rather, to journey together to find common ground.

The book includes some biographical tidbits. I share the story of how I came to realize that I am more humanist than theist, a nonbeliever who remains interested in all of the world’s religions. As I explain, this was not a spectacular conversion from theism to atheism. Rather, it was a slow realization that the religion I was raised with no longer spoke to me.

Peter, of course, tells a different story. Our differences emerge in chapters that discuss the meaning of curiosity, compassion, and courage, as well honesty, humility, honor, and harmony. It was eye-opening to engage in this process with Peter.

The book ends with an account of letters (well, emails) we exchanged. We discovered a common love of music, a common love of friends and families, and a common concern about the crises emerging around us.

As I say, in the conclusion, I think we succeeded in finding common ground. But this does not mean that the conversation is over. Rather, there is alway more to be learned.

We were fortunate to have Rabbi Jack Moline, the President of the American Interfaith Alliance write a Foreword to the book. Peter and I are both engaged in interfaith and inter-religious work. We both think that this work needs to involve atheists, secularists, and humanists as well as members of the world’s diverse faith communities.

You can buy the book on Amazon or from Wipf and Stock Books.