In my absence from this blog, I have been reading Alain de
Botton’s Religion for Atheists: A
Non-Believer’s Guide to the Uses of Religion, the topic of this book review. Unlike the New Atheists, he acknowledges
that religion has touched something deep and that secular society can learn
from religion. Alain de Botton is also the author of How Proust Can Change Your Life and Consolations of Philosophy, among others.
I am reviewing Religion
for Atheists in part due to demand and also because I cannot but conclude
that Religion for Atheists is full of
potentially dangerous ideas. But I open it up to my readers to prove me wrong.
140 word
summary.
Often atheists vehemently oppose religious beliefs and as a result
dismiss the entirety of religion, but faiths can be adapted to build community and
relieve bodily and mental suffering. For instance, coopting an older version of
the Lord’s Supper to nonreligious settings could decrease loneliness. By
ignoring religion’s depth, de Botton argues we
have secularized badly. Secular society has avoided simplicity; even the most
libertarian among us believe that children need guidance, but most of us
believe that as adults we are entirely self-directing. Yet often we find
ourselves in need of comfort and guidance. Another problem de Botton addresses is
that knowledge is arranged in abstract categories, instead of in ways that
would give helpful direction for the alleviation of our suffering. We should
build institutions and communities that can give guidance and comfort.
Extended Critique and Analysis:
De Botton’s project is to have secular
institutions subsume the role that religion has historically played in society.
Religion for Atheists helped form my
opinion on how to discuss the humanities in common forums. Specifically, I
would like to add de Botton’s use of
humanities to alleviate psychological suffering and the bonding of communities,
but leave open other interpretations of the humanities, which he seems to
preclude.
I agree with de Botton that we have lost a certain sense of
community now that God is no longer a given for society. Since about 1900 the
option of non-belief was possible and, at least in the west, increasingly more
people have been availing themselves of the option of nonbelief.
The consequences of the ‘death of God’ are often not
sufficiently addressed. Though de Botton would likely not sully his project
with this historical background (in general he seems to want to remove
literature, religion, and many other human endeavors, from its contextual and historical
background).
Community building and the alleviation
of suffering are what he thinks are the most noble of religion’s goals, and
methods for both can be adapted to non-religious societies. So the rituals and
ideas that he chooses work on these levels.
De Botton’s program is deceptively dangerous. At the
beginning of his book he states that he expects a reaction from religious
people, who would object to his taking religion piecemeal, and certain atheists,
who would deny that there are any uses for religion. But I think the people who
should push back the most against de Botton’s project are historians. Take his
proposed organization of museums and university departments as an example. According
to de Botton, museums and universities should be reorganized around categories
such as relationships and suffering to give us a space to reflect on our human
existence. Organizing knowledge solely in this way limits historical
contextualization.
Granted he would not remove Plato, Kant, Nietzsche, or any
other important figures from the reading list—he does admire them and draws
from them. But, a historically contextualized understanding is important to
begin understanding how these thinkers operated. Ideas have an intellectual
genealogy, and genealogy is very often a human preoccupation. It gives us an
understanding of how we got where we are, and perhaps an understanding of where
we are going. How many novels, movies, and plays are about rediscovering one’s
own history, whether it be the world’s history, a country’s history, or a
family’s history? How could we teach history if the goal is to present information
only
in specific thematic categories?
It would be nice for those steeped in the humanities to have
a stock answer that is not self-condescending to the question ‘why the
humanities matter.’ But, I think his answer should be rejected because
ultimately, if offered as the only answer, it makes the case for the humanities
harder. Are we not simply, and explicitly, navel gazing if we expect education solely
to help ourselves? Why should we have a department that teaches empathy when
understanding people from other time periods has been effectively eviscerated?
You can’t understand the novel of the 19th century without
understanding the history of the 19th century.
Context matters, unless you are claiming that there is some
universal truth that is applicable to everyone. Universal truth was the project
of the enlightenment until it got demolished, at least in the academic world,
by minorities, feminists (particularly third wave), and postmodernism. The part
of me that reacts against postmodernism was rooting for him throughout the
book; however, we need a reaction to postmodernism that acknowledges that Truth
is often used as a power grab, that there are multiple ways to read a text, and
that not everyone can have the same experience when reading a text. De Botton
believes we are like children who need comfort, support, and answers. But
little attention is given to how such a society is going to be structured to
allow this support given our vastly different experiences.
Thus, it’s not surprising that virtually
all of his examples of art and literature come from the pen or brush of white
men; though some of his religious examples come from non-Western contexts. In
either case, he typically imposes an interpretation onto classical works, such
as Madame Bovary being about marriage. His single answer to what literature is
for is essentially a sophisticated version of self-help. It helps us live more
lifetimes than if literature was not around.
His interpretation of religious ideas and rituals also suffer
from his tendency to provide only one interpretation. De Botton too often takes
religious ideas and rituals out of their context and interprets them without
acknowledging or asking how people who practice these rituals or have these
beliefs interpret their rituals and beliefs. He is presuming the authority to
interpret for these people. This is a paradigmatic example of the use of truth
as power. In one passage, he interprets the chanoyu, the Japanese tea ceremony,
as having exactly the same meaning as the Chinese version without skipping a
beat.
In this respect, his project is oddly restrictive. There
seems to be no questioning the interpretation once it has been determined. This
means that questions about the structure of novels (as an example) are
irrelevant and the structure of the question of meaning is predetermined, both
for literature and religion.
On one level I am very sympathetic to outsider
interpretations of a particular religious ritual or belief. You cannot allow
only Hindus (as an example) to interpret Hinduism; however, you also cannot allow only outsiders to interpret
Hinduism. We need to have discussions about what functions, if any, these
rituals perform for practitioners before we try to interpret and appropriate
them for our own use or make general claims about humanity based on them.
The one good thing that I took from Religion for Atheists is that I can now
add “How is this helpful to my life” to my list of questions when I read
certain philosophers or religious figures. I will also consider asking this
question to those who practice various faiths. The religion that is probably
the best equipped to answer this question is Buddhism. Many types of Buddhist meditation
help individuals become more compassionate towards oneself and others—helping people
with the practical aspects of their lives. However, I worry once we start
asking what something is for, whether it be religion, art, literature, or (to
add one of my own) playing, we forget to enjoy the activity and only start
looking for utilitarian purposes.
Bottom Line:
Whether it be ignoring all of
postmodernism, eviscerating the concept of history, or questionably
appropriating religious cultures, there is a lot to question in De Botton’s
work. I want to be wrong about him. And my gut is telling me that my brain is
wrong, but it may just be a hope against hope.
