I know I believe in nothing, but it is my nothing

According to a recent study by the University of Minnesota, I belong to the minority group most mistrusted by the average American. A group that comes below Muslims, recent immigrants, gays and lesbians in “sharing their vision of American society”. What is this monstrous group to which I belong? Atheists, apparently.

The level of religiosity in the United States always astonishes me: polls put the number of non-believers in the US at between 5-10%, while here in the decadent and faithless UK it’s more 35-40%. And now, it would seem, the majority of American citizens would be highly suspicious of me because of my lack – in the face of the overwhelming evidence to the contrary of course – of belief in any god whatsoever. Moreover, I wouldn’t be welcome to marry their daughter. A sentiment which is wholly reciprocated, I assure you.

I’ve always found adherence to faith baffling in the extreme. Even if I were to overlook the fact that there is no evidence to support any of them, not a single one (which I can’t, fussy empiricist that I am) the sheer choice is just overwhelming. As Homer said to Marge when defending his decision to stop going to church in the classic episode Homer the Heretic: “What if we’ve picked the wrong religion? Every week, we’re just making God madder and madder!” I get flustered enough choosing washing powder at the supermarket – this one’s kinder to the environment, but this one is tough on all stains, ooh this one’s half price – so how could I possibly settle down with one all-encompassing faith and value system?

Fear and mistrust of atheists is predicated on the age-old lie that only religion can ensure a coherent morality system; that religion gives us morality, ergo atheists are amoral. Wrong way round. Morality existed long before religion: religion is an offshoot of an already embedded morality system.

Other news this week.

Dawkins on religion. I enjoyed The Root Of All Evil, a two-part investigation into the nature of religion (and in particular the growth of fundamentalism) by Professor Richard Dawkins shown on Channel 4 last Monday. Dawkins, probably the world’s greatest authority on evolutionary theory, took a look at religion from his militantly atheist viewpoint and met with some very unsavoury characters. One, a bug-eyed evangelist preacher from somewhere in the bible belt, took enormous displeasure to having his belief system poked with the stick of science and accused Dawkins of ‘intellectual arrogance’. There’s nothing wrong with intellectual arrogance, of course. It’s certainly preferable to philistinic ignorance. Speaking of which, he also met with an ex-pat American who was raised as a secular Jew in New York, but now lived in the West Bank as a devout follower of Islam. His ‘opinions’ were terrifying. Anyway, part two is being shown on Monday night, Channel 4, 8pm.

Ruth Kelly. A real storm about sex offenders teaching in schools this week. To be honest, I haven’t followed it that closely and I have a built-in switch-off reflex to tabloid hysteria. That said, it seems pretty obvious to me that anyone with such history should be permanently excluded from ever working with children. For much the same reason that bankrupts are permanently excluded from selling investments and arsonists tend not to get a look in during fire brigade recruitment drives.

Lib Dems. The leadership race for the Liberal Democrats is underway. Not that you’d notice. According to candidate Simon Hughes, it’s not a “beauty parade”. You can say that again: I’ve never seen such an uninspiring bunch. Hughes and ‘Ming’ Campbell, standing in for departed Charles Kennedy at Prime Minister’s Question Time on Tuesday, were worse than hopeless. Apparently there are two others running as leader too – Mark Oaten and Chris Huhne – but it might as well be Champion The Wonder Horse and Olivia Newton-John for all I know about them.

Mentalist. Our old friend, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad, the lunatic ‘president’ of Iran has said today that Iran will hold a conference to discuss the Holocaust, which he recently described as a ‘myth’. Excuse me, a conference? To be held where? The Birmingham NEC? Kind of like the Daily Mail Ideal Home Exhibition, but exclusively for agents of Nazism and fundamentalist Islam. According to a spokesman, the seminar would examine the “scientific evidence” supporting the Holocaust. Regime change has rarely looked so inviting.

The Golden Wonder Age. And to finish on a lighter (and indeed, crunchier) note, Golden Wonder went into liquidation this week, deep-fried into oblivion by the unstoppable (Pepsi owned) Walker’s. I’m of the generation that remembers a time when Walker’s crisps were unheard of on the school playground, when cheese and onion packets were green and salt and vinegar packets were blue. Walker’s reversed that and it never felt right to me. Additionally, Golden Wonder brought us such legendary snacks as Wotsits, Wheat Crunchies, Ringos and the infamous Nik-Naks (the scampi and lemon flavour was so toxic it made kids glow in the dark). The end of an era, but all is not lost. . . .

For Aslan’s sake

I’m not exactly her biggest fan anyway, but I was irritated by this article written by Polly Toynbee in The Guardian, wittering on about the Christian conspiracy (in her head, at least) that is the new film version of The Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe, the latest money-spinning serial franchise from Disney.

In what was, I think, supposed to be a review of the popular children’s story, she instead proceeds to spin out a really rather pointless polemic about the religious overtones in what is, famously, a Christian allegory. “Narnia represents everything that is most hateful about religion” she bleats. Really? You think that’s as bad as religion gets? What about suicide bombers, mandatory female circumcision, the Spanish Inquisition and ethnic cleansing? I’d say they are all slightly more hateful than a CS Lewis paperback.

Regular readers of this blog (all six of you) will know that I am not, by any means, a fan of religion. In fact, The Realist and I arguably bang on about it more than is healthy. But the fact is, we don’t believe, and we enjoy berating it from time to time. Another fact is that we were both, in different ways, brought up with Biblical stories and prayers at school. We just chose to reject it all as the unfeasible nonsense it is. I am a non-theist, but I found Toynbee’s commentary po-faced and churlish. She’s really only giving those on the opposite end of the spectrum an opportunity to throw the epithet “loony left” at her. And with words such as these, it’s almost understandable:

Because here in Narnia is the perfect Republican, muscular Christianity for America – that warped, distorted neo-fascist strain that thinks might is proof of right. 

Oh come on, you’re being silly. I understand that there are Christian groups in America using the movie as a means of recruiting young members and, yes, that is a bit sinister. But these are the same groups who held book-burning ceremonies of Harry Potter novels because they “encouraged occultism”. These people are fuckwits, ignore them – millions of fans of the boy wizard did, and countless millions will ignore you too. Children are no more likely to become blinkered acolytes of the Christian Right from watching this film than they are likely to sacrifice goats and hold ouija board sessions after watching The Goblet Of Fire. (In fact you could also argue that the Harry Potter books contain religious overtones: there is good and evil, sacrifice, you name it. Ditto the works of Tolkein.)

The Lion, The Witch And The Wardrobe is a much loved children’s story. I read it myself as a kid and, when I have children of my own, it won’t cause me any distress if they read it too. If they’re anything like I was, they’ll consider it a pretty good story, but not good enough to read the whole series. Although if they did, again, fine: I’d be happy just to see them reading. They can make up their own minds about the subtext some other time. Relax, Polly. They’re man-made pieces of fiction, works of fantasy. Like the Bible itself.