The search for the pure guiding light of reason, uncontaminated by human passion or metaphysical principles that go beyond all possible evidence, continues, however; and recently, an epidemic rash of books has declared success, at least if success consists of having slain the inveterate enemy of reason, namely religion. The philosophers Daniel Dennett, A. C. Grayling, Michel Onfray, and Sam Harris, biologist Richard Dawkins, and journalist and critic Christopher Hitchens have all written books roundly condemning religion and its works. Evidently, there is a tide in the affairs, if not of men, at least of authors.
The curious thing about these books is that the authors often appear to think that they are saying something new and brave. They imagine themselves to be like the intrepid explorer Sir Richard Burton, who in 1853 disguised himself as a Muslim merchant, went to Mecca, and then wrote a book about his unprecedented feat. The public appears to agree, for the neo-atheist books have sold by the hundred thousand. Yet with the possible exception of Dennett’s, they advance no argument that I, the village atheist, could not have made by the age of 14 (Saint Anselm’s ontological argument for God’s existence gave me the greatest difficulty, but I had taken Hume to heart on the weakness of the argument from design).
The search for the pure guiding light of
reason, uncontaminated by human passion or metaphysical principles that
go beyond all possible evidence, continues, however; and recently, an
epidemic rash of books has declared success, at least if success
consists of having slain the inveterate enemy of reason, namely
religion. The philosophers Daniel Dennett, A. C. Grayling, Michel
Onfray, and Sam Harris, biologist Richard Dawkins, and journalist and
critic Christopher Hitchens have all written books roundly condemning
religion and its works. Evidently, there is a tide in the affairs, if
not of men, at least of authors.
The curious thing about these books is that the authors often appear
to think that they are saying something new and brave. They imagine
themselves to be like the intrepid explorer Sir Richard Burton, who in
1853 disguised himself as a Muslim merchant, went to Mecca, and then
wrote a book about his unprecedented feat. The public appears to agree,
for the neo-atheist books have sold by the hundred thousand. Yet with
the possible exception of Dennett’s, they advance no argument that I,
the village atheist, could not have made by the age of 14 (Saint
Anselm’s ontological argument for God’s existence gave me the greatest
difficulty, but I had taken Hume to heart on the weakness of the
argument from design).