Origins and Names

After a discussion with the brilliant Mrs. Klein, my fervent anti-spiritualism might be toning down somewhat. Still, I ran across this article that gives a brief status report on the idea that religion is the result of biological evolution, like teeth and male nipples. The sides presented are more or less that it is either literally a genetically-conditioned form of social organization evolved to provide competitive advantages on its carriers (like haplodiploidy), or that it is generally helpful, could have spread memetically (like fashion trends), but is really more cultural than genetic. The author tries to give a solomonic solution by calling cultural evolution 'an exaggerated metaphor", and granting that there's more to humanity than our genetic hard- and software.

Have both sides forgotten their Popper? Is a little falsificationism too much to ask? This is a debate about which there is an objective fact of the matter. It's more like asking whether more people have black hair or blond hair than it's like asking why Beethoven is better than Mozart (or vice versa). The way the debate is pitched, both sides are arguing for their own just-so-story. Religion as a biological trait to increase cohesion within the group sounds plausible enough, but if that's so, find the gene(s)! Just because it sounds plausible, doesn't mean it's true.

I have the feeling that scientists trying to make the God-is-a-product-of-biology argument would expect vindication if they could find that gene, as if that would be the final nail in the theist/deist coffin. The natural (I mean 'theological') reply to the question of how that gene got there, would of course be something like "Magic man dunnit". I recently remarked that I couldn't understand how an intelligent person could hold religious faith, and while that might still be true, the faithful as a group are capable of some first rate sophistry. Still, how religion is related to evolution is an empirical question, and I accept no substitutes.

I also saw this kind of travel diary by an 'Indian' who visits 'Indian' casinos. I remember when I was a kid growing up in western Canada, 'Indian' could be used to describe the pre-16th century inhabitants of the Americas and their descendants without denegration. That didn't last long before the term 'native' became more politically correct. (I had a problem with this even in grade-school, because both of my parents are first-generation immigrants to Canada (from different countries), and I was born there, so how were they any more native than I? If the plan was to ship all the colonists home, where was I to go?) Then 'aboriginal' was en vogue. (It's an etymologically interesting term with similarly disturbing connotations for me. 'More original than original', which would leave me, where?, just original?) Now, I think First Nations is the PC nomenclature, which can lead to some pretty awkward sentences ("This First Nations' gentleman has lost his hat! Has anyone seen the First Nations' gentleman's hat?"). My point is that Canada has really torn itself up over relations with First Nations (although we still call the responsible governmental department "The Department of Indian and Northern Affairs"), as one can clearly see from the terminological gymnastics of the last 30 years, but the Americans seem comfortable with good ol' 'Indian'. I wonder why.

My guess is that it has to do with Canada's multiculturalism. In Canada, I think we're pretty happy to call people whatever they please, but more importantly, the social ideal is cultural diversity, and some might need extra measures to stand out in the cacophony of different titles and tongues. We have many wheels, but only the squeaky ones get greased. In the States, there seems to be more of a integrationist, melting pot ideal in which all comers are meant to assimilate. Standing out might be a bad thing, so only the biggest minorities can withstand the resistance that hopping on the euphemism treadmill attracts. If there are costs to standing out, only those strong enough to assert themselves will even try. Hmm?

The Plight of the Big Minority

Having grown up in Canada (eh?) and being an IR geek, I don't have much experience watching coalition governments, especially during campaigns. Elections are something we often like to assume away in IR, and Canada hasn't had to many coalition governments in my time, especially not in Alberta. It's been really interesting watching the (seemingly endless) American campaigns and the German super election year.
One very stark contrast is the brevity of German campaigns. Canadian elections are often called at relatively unexpected times, but the Germans follow a pretty regular schedule, as do the Americans. Still, the Germans manage to keep campaigns pretty short - a few months at most.
Another contrast is the difficulty of running as the minority party in a grand coalition, as the German SPD (social democrat party) is trying to do now. It seems that incumbent parties basically use the canned story about their record and their plans for a glorious future, and opposition parties have theirs about the governing party's mistakes and disrepute. The junior grand coalition party is stuck, though: they can't criticize the incumbents because they are incumbents, and they can't easily rest on their record because credit mostly goes to the larger partner.
Frank-Walter Steinmeier, the SPD candidate for Chancellor and German Foreign Minister, recently promised to create 4 million jobs in the green energy and health sectors. The other parties and many observers promptly laughed him out of town. Obama has made a very similar claim generally gets praised for it. I'm wondering what the smart move for the SPD would be. What's the winning narrative? (not that I'm pulling for the SPD, just out of curiosity). It's funny how heavily campaigns seem to depend on being able to tell a good story rather than any more sensible, consequential criteria.

Speaking of large minorities, there's a controversy bubbling in Gelsenkirchen about the local Bundesliga team, FC Schalke 04 (soccer season is starting, so expect more soccer posts). Schalke is to the Bundesliga what the Boston Bruins are to the NHL: rarely on top but been around long enough to be a pillar of tradition in the league. Their fans have a stadium chant that includes the lines:

Mohammed was a prophet who didn't know about soccer, but from all the beautiful colours, he figured out the blue-white [Schalke's colours] - my translation.

Now domestic Muslim fanatics are threatening Schalke's fans. I have to ask, why the insecurity? Considering that soccer as we know it today didn't exist until 1863, Mohammed died 1231 years too early to have known about it. He couldn't have known any more about soccer than he could have known about Teflon or Baywatch. I wouldn't even call this criticizing Mohammed; it's just a stupid fact in a stupid fan song. His name could just as easily be replaced by Abraham or Gautama.
I suppose that one should be used to this sort of nonsense after the Danish cartoon outcry of a few years back, but it's nothing I care to get used to. There's a tendency to wall religion off as a Realm of Infinite Tolerance (i.e. everyone must tolerate it), but incidents like the one in Gelsenkirchen might lend some credence to Sam Harris' argument that liberal tolerance of religions provides cover for extremists less worthy of that tolerance.
It also raises questions about what one can legitimately say about religion with the expectation of peaceful (if not polite) discourse. Although Muslims seem to be especially touchy, but Hindus and Christians also have their angry mob moments, and the religious seem less able to sort out arguments (in many cases probably a precondition of faith). For example, if I were to say that Jesus existed as a person but was devoid of any kind of divinity, this is not a criticism of Jesus. If he were a divine figure, I'd agree that he's a relatively friendly and benign one - I don't criticize him, I just don't believe he's all he's cracked up to be. Try explaining that difference to these folks or these.
And even if I were criticizing somebody's holy cow (so to speak), so what? A divine being can surely take it. I think Canada is just peachy, but I laughed heartily when I heard "Blame Canada" and when it was nominated for the Best Song Oscar in 1999. Grow up and have some faith in your, erm, faith.