Religion for Atheists: A non-believer's guide to the uses of religion [Anglais] [Broché]

Alain de Botton's new book "Religion for Atheists" is a bold attempt to convince atheists, or those who don't believe in the existence of God, that it is possible to derive important lessons from religions around the world without accepting any supernatural claims they might make. Mr. de Botton is unequivocal about his atheistic stance, and frankly says that he doesn't believe in any supernatural being or phenomenon. But this atheistic position that many people probably adopt today, he claims, should not prevent them from appreciating the effective ways religions have provided to meet what he calls the needs of souls that tend all too often to be left unattended in our secularized world but remain none the less existent.

Based on this central principle, he refers to various fields ranging from education to architecture and shows us how religions have traditionally interpreted or dealt with the problems typically associated with those fields. For example, we tend to assume that the purpose of education is to impart valuable information. Hence our puzzlement over a university lecture that focuses exclusively on certain obscure literary works of a foreign thinker who died several thousand years ago, however much importance its lecturer argues they have. This kind of situation happens because of the fact that education has forgotten its original mission: to fill the moral vacuum that was left by the ebbing of the influence of religion. Religions used to teach each of its adherents how to find happiness, how to deal with suffering, and how to become a better, mature person---a kind of therapeutic pedagogy, the need for which remains as strong as ever despite the fact that we are now living in a godless, secular world. Mr. de Botton therefore argues that education, especially in the field of humanities, should ideally provide a reasonable substitute.

Another field that he zeros in on is art. Mr. de Botton complains that the high esteem we hold museums in is made almost useless by our nonsensical prejudice that art should be only for its own sake. Religions have used works of art as important tools of reminding us of those qualities that we understand at heart are important but too often forget or fail to act upon, and have had no qualm about admitting art serves a utilitarian purpose, like that of enhancing our happiness or of healing our souls. This attitude is, according to Mr. de Botton, still relevant today, and should influence ways we appreciate works of art.

These considerations, provocative as they may be, are deeply interesting and thought-provoking. Some of his ideas, however, are more controversial. For instance, in a section on the contrast between libertarianism and paternalism, he says religious paternalism used to help people be better than they would have been left to their own devices, whereas libertarianism, in which people are permitted to do whatever they like as long as they are law abiders, leaves people at a loss for where to seek moral guidance. But it is precisely because one's conviction that s/he has an infallible understanding of what is truly good or bad for humanity brought about tremendous bloodshed that our predecessors decided to enshrine the rights of individual freedom. Even if some aspects of paternalism are indeed appealing, it seems to be difficult to let go of the well-cherished principle that every individual is a sovereign over himself.

Another topic some might find unpalatable is his discussion of The Book of Job, which he claims is one of the most consoling texts for atheists. In this biblical story, Job, a wealthy, happy man, experienced a series of grave misfortunes, lost his children, his wealth and even his health. His neighbors said that he must have sinned and been punished, but he was convinced of his innocence and began to doubt the benevolence of God. At this point God admonished him for his haughtiness. Compared with the vastness of the universe and its mysteries, human beings were petty, insignificant creatures, and as such they had no qualification to fathom God's intentions. After this admonition, Job came to realize the pettiness of human life and the nothingness of his own existence. This story, says Mr. de Botton, helps us, like Job, to realize how small and how insignificant our everyday troubles and sorrows are, in comparison with the grandeur of the universe. But if you notice an analogy between what Job experienced and the tsunami that people in the north eastern part of Japan went through last year, Mr. de Botton's argument becomes less convincing. For how many would agree that those who got indignant at the disaster's unfairness were arrogant for presuming to judge what's fair and unfair? How many would say that the disastrous event, which claimed tens of thousands of innocent lives, reminded people of the smallness of their everyday desires and sufferings and the nothingness of their own existence? Very few, indeed.

Notwithstanding these controversial points, this book as a whole is an interesting attempt to add a new dimension to, and therefore stimulate, the otherwise insipid debates between the religious and the non-religious fundamentalists.

It's refreshing to read a book by an atheist that acknowledges religion isn't a complete waste of time and space and may in fact offer much that enriches human experience and helps us live together nicely (if only we could leave out the ridiculous stories and exploitative hegemonies!).

With deftness, wit, and a wry tone, de Botton explores some of religion's greatest hits, including wisdom, community, kindness, tenderness, perspective, education, architecture, and art. He shows us how effective religion is at what we might call a customer-centric approach to presenting itself and suggests many secular institutions like universities, art galleries, and museums might be much more effective at engaging us with our culture if they borrowed a few tips from the assorted god squads. My favourite is his suggestion that we order human knowledge and learning in easy to grasp thematic ways (stuff about love, loss, marriage etc) rather than the dull, inaccessible academic boffin way (19th century x-ism, early 20th century z-ism etc) we're all so fond of.

What's implied here is that we have a soul (psyche, imagination, heart, whatever) that used to be fed and sustained by religion, a soul that is now starved and in need of sustenance, a soul that needs regular doses of meaning and wisdom so we can make it through the day, a soul we ignore at our peril, a soul that rewards those who care for it, if only we could remember how to do that.

It's not all plain sailing, and some of de Botton's suggestions ring the "yeah, right" bell. But even when his answers are a big wobbly, the questions are smack on the money and must be asked, pondered, and contemplated. So read on, as I did, and dare to imagine how we as a secular society can better meet our great need for a life filled with soul, perhaps with a little help from religion's vast experience.

This may be one of the most ineffective theses I've ever read. What Alain de Botton purports to do is explain to atheists why they shouldn't completely poo-poo religion and should instead take the pieces that are useful/good and make use of them in their daily lives... what he does instead is provide chapter after chapter of ways that we should remake society in inane and controlling ways.

To give a few examples of his frustratingly simplistic set-ups and comparisons:

In the first chapter (on community) he claims that nowhere in secular society do we have a chance to mingle and talk with other people in the way that people in a church do. But his examples are terrible: "...the commuter trains, the jostling pavements, the airport concourses...". Are those really the only places you can "typically encounter others"? What about at a conference? Or at a sporting event? Or at a political rally? Or at ANY location where you're not trying to get from one point to the other as you are in his examples...

In the section on education he makes a number of overblown statements about how we forget everything we learn in college because it's not repeated over and over and over and because it's not done in a call and response manner the way some sermons are. He goes on to generalize and call all professors boring while claiming that all preachers/pastors/priests are the most exciting speakers on the planet.

This is the kind of language he uses: "Secular education will never succeed in reaching its potential until humanities lecturers are sent to be trained by African-American Pentecostal preachers."

He then describes his ideal universities and museums where we don't learn about things in terms of their historical value but instead only learn about them based on how they affect the human condition.

In the section on Institutions he compares the annual revenue in dollars brought in by the Catholic Church, Proctor and Gamble and... James Patterson... in order to make the point that books just don't get to people the way that established institutions like churches and corporations can. But this is like comparing the revenue from Microsoft and a single iPhone app and then saying that this proves that Apple doesn't matter. Why not throw in a publishing company if we're comparing corporations? His whole point is that an established "brand" provides a shortcut for getting the word out, but that's exactly why most authors are published by publishing companies and not self-published. Oddly enough he then goes on to say that universities are a good example of how well this model works, even though in his very first chapter he complained that universities are completely broken.

These are just a few small examples that really stuck out to me but the entire book is filled with these types of arguments. I wanted to like this book as I really though the premise sounded great but de Botton doesn't actually do what he says he'll do. Instead he just lists ways that religious structure is awesome and derides "secular" society... which really turns out to be "modern" society given how much time he spends decrying all the technology we currently use.

This is basically a poorly written screed against contemporary society dressed up with a cool title and fancy packaging (all the pictures are nice and make you feel like you're reading a much longer book than you are). I don't really see who the audience for this book is - clearly not the religious... but I can't see what the non-religious get out of it either.