Yesterday's blog post, on the idiotic and dangerous concept of "defamation of religion", has now been republished (with my permission) as an article on Ophelia Benson's wonderful Butterflies and Wheels site.
If you're not familiar with Butterflies and Wheels, please check it out. It's a marvellous resource, which is best explained here. To quote the explanation in part:
Butterflies and Wheels has been established in order to oppose a number of related phenomena. These include:
1. Pseudoscience that is ideologically and politically motivated.
2. Epistemic relativism in the humanities (for example, the idea that statements are only true or false relative to particular cultures, discourses or language-games).
3. Those disciplines or schools of thought whose truth claims are prompted by the political, ideological and moral commitments of their adherents, and the general tendency to judge the veracity of claims about the world in terms of such commitments.
I have no difficulty in giving those aims my full endorsement. In fact, they correspond quite strongly with some of my own aims in my writing since 1997 or so, when I began to publish fairly prolifically about related issues. That includes my aims in producing this blog.
Whenever I visit Butterflies and Wheels, I learn a great deal, especially from the articles by Edmund Standing, Tauriq Moosa, and others.
Ophelia Benson is one of the many excellent writers who have contributed essays to the Voices of Disbelief book that I edited with Udo Schuklenk last year, and which is now finding its way through the publication process (Udo and I expect to see page proofs in the next month or two, and publication is currently scheduled for September ... at the moment I'm chipping away at some preliminary work for the index we'll be expected to prepare). I see that Ophelia has a new book coming out soon, written with Jeremy Stangroom: Does God Hate Women? That should be worth watching out for.
About Me
- Russell Blackford
- Australian philosopher, literary critic, legal scholar, and professional writer. Based in Newcastle, NSW. My latest books are THE TYRANNY OF OPINION: CONFORMITY AND THE FUTURE OF LIBERALISM (2019); AT THE DAWN OF A GREAT TRANSITION: THE QUESTION OF RADICAL ENHANCEMENT (2021); and HOW WE BECAME POST-LIBERAL: THE RISE AND FALL OF TOLERATION (2024).
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Monday, February 16, 2009
The idiocy of "defamation of religion"
Anti-liberal actors in the international arena, such as the Muslim states of the Middle East, are pursuing a path of attempting to suppress what they call "defamation of religion". Their campaign is achieving some success, and I believe we must take it very seriously.
The whole idea of defamation of religion is nonsense. Taken literally, it would mean that I could not utter any falsehood that is damaging to the reputation of a religion (so, it might lead people to leave the religion or doubt its doctrines, or fail to be convinced to convert to it). But a religion has no right to flourish, be believed, retain adherents, gain converts, or anything of the sort. On the contrary, it is in the public interest that the truth and credibility of various religions be tested continually, and it is quite within my rights to try to convert people from their current religion to my religion of choice or to an anti-religious position. Much like political ideologies, religions have to take their own chances. Many things will be said for and against various religions, and some of those things will not be true, even if they are said sincerely.
In that sense, the flourishing of a religion is simply not analogous to the flourishing of citizens. The concern that the state has to protect the flourishing of its citizens in no way applies to religions. If a religion dies out through a peaceful process of deconversions or a failure to reproduce itself, the state should be entirely neutral about whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Even apart from that fundamental point, the justification for defamation law can't simply be scaled up to apply to the "defamation" of something like a religion. On the contrary, we should ensure that speech about the public actions of elected officials and other public figures, the actions of business corporations, the actions of religious organisations and communities of religious believers, and the truth of religious doctrines, etc., is not chilled by applying concepts of "defamation" beyond their very narrow area of justification. In some cases, this might require narrowing of the existing law (e.g. in its application to large business corporations).
Let's look at this issue of justification. If The Sydney Morning Herald accuses me of being a pedophile, it will be very difficult to remove that slur without taking some kind of action in the courts. If the slur is believed by my friends, they will shun me. If it's thought more widely that there's any truth in the slur, then my career will undoubtedly be ruined. Indeed, in situations like that individuals can be ostracised - and so destroyed as social beings - and it seems that the only way to counter the possibility is by invoking the majesty of the law to clear their names and/or provide heavy damages for the loss. That provides some deterrence to giant media corporations, which wield private power, acting in ways that can ruin individual lives. Media corporations take potential legal liability for defamation seriously, and that's usually a good thing. It gives some reassurance to those of us who are not media magnates.
By contrast, consider the public actions (not, for example, the sex lives) of elected officials. It's well known that these actions are controversial and that any criticism, no matter how trenchant (or plausible-seeming), has to be taken with a grain of salt. Furthermore, elected officials have enormous resources with which to put across their own viewpoints and defend themselves without recourse to the majesty of the law for vindication. Moreover, whereas the sex life of an individual citizen is not, prima facie, a matter whose discussion is of public interest, there is great public interest in conducting robust discussions of the public actions of elected officials.
Accordingly, it should at the very least be extremely difficult for elected officials to succeed in defamation cases relating to criticism of their public actions. Over the past 15 years or so, Australian law has been moving in that direction, and it has long been so in the US.
When it comes to religious organisations, and to religious claims about prophets, gods, and so on, there is even less need to resort to the majesty of the law. If it's claimed that Muhammad was a pedophile, that has no effect on Muhammad, who is long dead, has no friends to shun him, has no career that can be ruined. Moreover, there are literally hundreds of millions of followers of Muhammad to defend him, and many of them wield enormous power and influence, and have easy access to the mass media. Furthermore, it's known that issues surrounding the lives of ancient and medieval prophets and saints are matters of heated and almost intractable controversy, so any false claims will be taken with a grain of salt by reasonable people. Such people either ignore the claims or look a bit more deeply, rather than accepting them uncritically. Indeed, the greater problem that we face is that even true claims in criticism of religion will not be taken seriously by the general population. At the same time, there is a strong public interest in discussing the origins and credibility of religions. Was Muhammad a good role model for contemporary Muslims or not? Are the traditional claims about his life even credible? With such questions, there is an overwhelmingly strong case that there should not be anything like a defamation action available. That case is even stronger than the equivalent case applying to the public actions of elected officials.
Similarly for claims about the behaviour of religious organisations. These organisations wield enormous power and influence, and their actions are inevitably controversial. Organisations such as the Catholic Church have practically unlimited resources to defend themselves against untrue claims, without needing recourse to law, and even true claims are likely to be greeted with disbelief by adherents and cynicism by many others. It's true that many less rational people will swallow nonsense such as Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code, but even more will accept religious dogma, and the fundamental rightness of an organisation such as the Church, as a result of childhood indoctrination. It is in the public interest to discuss the actions of these organisations without enacting laws that chill the debate.
When it comes to actual religious doctrines and rejection of those doctrines, the case against anything like a concept of "defamation" is stronger still. If someone says "The Abrahamic God does not exist", well, even if God does exist he will not be shunned by friends or have his career ruined. There is no equivalent to destroying him as a social person. Claims about God's existence or non-existence are highly, intractably, controversial, and many people treat all such discussion with derision, despite its philosophical importance. Although most citizens are probably more worried about their children, their mortgages, and so on, it is important to conduct philosophical inquiry into religious claims, and we must ensure that the discussion is not chilled by any such concept as "defamation of religion".
I could go on and on about how the justification for some kind of concept of defamation in liberal societies is an extremely narrow one, and how attempts to broaden it into concepts of group defamation, or even worse, defamation of religion, are fundamentally flawed. It seems that the immediate target of those who seek to prevent defamation of religion is to prohibit claims that something about Islam tends to lead its adherents to terrorism. But that claim is surely at least arguable: whether or not it can be defended at the end of the day, it is a controversial, yet important claim that merits fearless discussion. We should be very reluctant to suppress such claims, and of course Muslim leaders and intellectuals have enormous resources available to them to put their own side of the story without taking such a controversial and debatable psychological/sociological/theological thesis to the courts for an official ruling.
Thus, it would be incredibly simplistic to say, "Defamation of individuals is a bad thing; therefore anything analogous to it is a bad thing." Even the first part of this is misleading if it's intended as a broad generalisation - if the individuals concerned are elected officials and the "defamation" relates to their public conduct (not, say, to their sexual practices) then it is by no means obvious that any false criticisms should be cognisable by the law as a "bad thing". The law should not apply to criticism of the public acts of elected officials in the same way that it does to statements about the character or private conduct of ordinary citizens. The private conduct of elected officials may fall somewhere in between, but it should normally receive protection from defamatory claims.
Once we move beyond individuals to organisations, communities, bodies of religious or political doctrine, and so on, it is even less obvious that any legal concept of defamation is applicable. Indeed, it should be obvious that all the indicia point the other way: i.e., there should not be a legal concept of "defamation of religion", whatever, exactly, the concept is supposed to amount to. It is in the public interest that scrutiny of religion go ahead from every possible angle (philosophical, historical, sociological, etc.) without the ensuing discussion being chilled by anything analogous to defamation law.
We should be camapaigning to confine defamation law as narrowly as possible, not extend it even further. What I would support (and this already exists in some, perhaps many, jurisdictions) is a narrowly-confined tort of interference in privacy, according to which even true publications about the strictly private behaviour of individuals can be met by a claim for damages. Such revelations can greatly damage individuals as social beings, and the individuals concerned may have no other practical redress when confronted by media corporations. But such a tort would need to be confined narrowly in some way so that it applies only to revelations in the mass media, not to everyday gossip. In any event, this is quite remote from ideas of defamation of religion. If such a privacy tort is justified, it's on a totally different basis, and it shows why the sorts of concerns that might justify certain narrow exceptions to freedom of speech don't lead to a concept such as defamation of religion.
The concept of defamation of religion is a very worrying development. If it starts to gain legal force, it has terrible potential as an encroachment on freedom of speech. I submit that we should take this very seriously and fight against it tooth and nail. Our whole Enlightenment legacy is at stake here, and if the UN continues to take an illiberal path I see no reason for compunction about criticising the UN. The UN may or may not be a useful institution, but it is certainly not beyond trenchant criticism and satire, as and when the criticism or satire is merited.
There's no need to believe that the credibility of the UN must be retained at all costs. Doubtless, the organisation has done some good, but it has failed to achieve its crucial goal of ensuring "never again" for Nazi-like genocides and atrocities. It can't take much credit for the fact that there was never a World War III between the NATO allies and the former Soviet Union and its satellites - surely that related more to a balance of terror between nuclear-armed states. I doubt that it has done much to contribute to the fundamental freedoms enjoyed in liberal societies. In any event, no matter how wonderful the UN may be, it should attract criticism just like any other powerful organisation.
Freedom of speech has been squeezed and squeezed. Yes, it's not an absolute value that can't be overridden by other values in any circumstances whatsoever. I doubt that there are any such absolute values. But exceptions to the presumption of freedom of speech need to be justified, case by case, with compelling argument and evidence, and the exceptions then need to be defined as narrowly as possible, not used by analogy for dubious new exceptions.
The time has come to shout "Enough!" We've been moving too far in the direction of creating more and larger exceptions to freedom of speech. We need a loud, popular movement to push the other way.
The whole idea of defamation of religion is nonsense. Taken literally, it would mean that I could not utter any falsehood that is damaging to the reputation of a religion (so, it might lead people to leave the religion or doubt its doctrines, or fail to be convinced to convert to it). But a religion has no right to flourish, be believed, retain adherents, gain converts, or anything of the sort. On the contrary, it is in the public interest that the truth and credibility of various religions be tested continually, and it is quite within my rights to try to convert people from their current religion to my religion of choice or to an anti-religious position. Much like political ideologies, religions have to take their own chances. Many things will be said for and against various religions, and some of those things will not be true, even if they are said sincerely.
In that sense, the flourishing of a religion is simply not analogous to the flourishing of citizens. The concern that the state has to protect the flourishing of its citizens in no way applies to religions. If a religion dies out through a peaceful process of deconversions or a failure to reproduce itself, the state should be entirely neutral about whether that's a good thing or a bad thing.
Even apart from that fundamental point, the justification for defamation law can't simply be scaled up to apply to the "defamation" of something like a religion. On the contrary, we should ensure that speech about the public actions of elected officials and other public figures, the actions of business corporations, the actions of religious organisations and communities of religious believers, and the truth of religious doctrines, etc., is not chilled by applying concepts of "defamation" beyond their very narrow area of justification. In some cases, this might require narrowing of the existing law (e.g. in its application to large business corporations).
Let's look at this issue of justification. If The Sydney Morning Herald accuses me of being a pedophile, it will be very difficult to remove that slur without taking some kind of action in the courts. If the slur is believed by my friends, they will shun me. If it's thought more widely that there's any truth in the slur, then my career will undoubtedly be ruined. Indeed, in situations like that individuals can be ostracised - and so destroyed as social beings - and it seems that the only way to counter the possibility is by invoking the majesty of the law to clear their names and/or provide heavy damages for the loss. That provides some deterrence to giant media corporations, which wield private power, acting in ways that can ruin individual lives. Media corporations take potential legal liability for defamation seriously, and that's usually a good thing. It gives some reassurance to those of us who are not media magnates.
By contrast, consider the public actions (not, for example, the sex lives) of elected officials. It's well known that these actions are controversial and that any criticism, no matter how trenchant (or plausible-seeming), has to be taken with a grain of salt. Furthermore, elected officials have enormous resources with which to put across their own viewpoints and defend themselves without recourse to the majesty of the law for vindication. Moreover, whereas the sex life of an individual citizen is not, prima facie, a matter whose discussion is of public interest, there is great public interest in conducting robust discussions of the public actions of elected officials.
Accordingly, it should at the very least be extremely difficult for elected officials to succeed in defamation cases relating to criticism of their public actions. Over the past 15 years or so, Australian law has been moving in that direction, and it has long been so in the US.
When it comes to religious organisations, and to religious claims about prophets, gods, and so on, there is even less need to resort to the majesty of the law. If it's claimed that Muhammad was a pedophile, that has no effect on Muhammad, who is long dead, has no friends to shun him, has no career that can be ruined. Moreover, there are literally hundreds of millions of followers of Muhammad to defend him, and many of them wield enormous power and influence, and have easy access to the mass media. Furthermore, it's known that issues surrounding the lives of ancient and medieval prophets and saints are matters of heated and almost intractable controversy, so any false claims will be taken with a grain of salt by reasonable people. Such people either ignore the claims or look a bit more deeply, rather than accepting them uncritically. Indeed, the greater problem that we face is that even true claims in criticism of religion will not be taken seriously by the general population. At the same time, there is a strong public interest in discussing the origins and credibility of religions. Was Muhammad a good role model for contemporary Muslims or not? Are the traditional claims about his life even credible? With such questions, there is an overwhelmingly strong case that there should not be anything like a defamation action available. That case is even stronger than the equivalent case applying to the public actions of elected officials.
Similarly for claims about the behaviour of religious organisations. These organisations wield enormous power and influence, and their actions are inevitably controversial. Organisations such as the Catholic Church have practically unlimited resources to defend themselves against untrue claims, without needing recourse to law, and even true claims are likely to be greeted with disbelief by adherents and cynicism by many others. It's true that many less rational people will swallow nonsense such as Dan Brown's The Da Vinci Code, but even more will accept religious dogma, and the fundamental rightness of an organisation such as the Church, as a result of childhood indoctrination. It is in the public interest to discuss the actions of these organisations without enacting laws that chill the debate.
When it comes to actual religious doctrines and rejection of those doctrines, the case against anything like a concept of "defamation" is stronger still. If someone says "The Abrahamic God does not exist", well, even if God does exist he will not be shunned by friends or have his career ruined. There is no equivalent to destroying him as a social person. Claims about God's existence or non-existence are highly, intractably, controversial, and many people treat all such discussion with derision, despite its philosophical importance. Although most citizens are probably more worried about their children, their mortgages, and so on, it is important to conduct philosophical inquiry into religious claims, and we must ensure that the discussion is not chilled by any such concept as "defamation of religion".
I could go on and on about how the justification for some kind of concept of defamation in liberal societies is an extremely narrow one, and how attempts to broaden it into concepts of group defamation, or even worse, defamation of religion, are fundamentally flawed. It seems that the immediate target of those who seek to prevent defamation of religion is to prohibit claims that something about Islam tends to lead its adherents to terrorism. But that claim is surely at least arguable: whether or not it can be defended at the end of the day, it is a controversial, yet important claim that merits fearless discussion. We should be very reluctant to suppress such claims, and of course Muslim leaders and intellectuals have enormous resources available to them to put their own side of the story without taking such a controversial and debatable psychological/sociological/theological thesis to the courts for an official ruling.
Thus, it would be incredibly simplistic to say, "Defamation of individuals is a bad thing; therefore anything analogous to it is a bad thing." Even the first part of this is misleading if it's intended as a broad generalisation - if the individuals concerned are elected officials and the "defamation" relates to their public conduct (not, say, to their sexual practices) then it is by no means obvious that any false criticisms should be cognisable by the law as a "bad thing". The law should not apply to criticism of the public acts of elected officials in the same way that it does to statements about the character or private conduct of ordinary citizens. The private conduct of elected officials may fall somewhere in between, but it should normally receive protection from defamatory claims.
Once we move beyond individuals to organisations, communities, bodies of religious or political doctrine, and so on, it is even less obvious that any legal concept of defamation is applicable. Indeed, it should be obvious that all the indicia point the other way: i.e., there should not be a legal concept of "defamation of religion", whatever, exactly, the concept is supposed to amount to. It is in the public interest that scrutiny of religion go ahead from every possible angle (philosophical, historical, sociological, etc.) without the ensuing discussion being chilled by anything analogous to defamation law.
We should be camapaigning to confine defamation law as narrowly as possible, not extend it even further. What I would support (and this already exists in some, perhaps many, jurisdictions) is a narrowly-confined tort of interference in privacy, according to which even true publications about the strictly private behaviour of individuals can be met by a claim for damages. Such revelations can greatly damage individuals as social beings, and the individuals concerned may have no other practical redress when confronted by media corporations. But such a tort would need to be confined narrowly in some way so that it applies only to revelations in the mass media, not to everyday gossip. In any event, this is quite remote from ideas of defamation of religion. If such a privacy tort is justified, it's on a totally different basis, and it shows why the sorts of concerns that might justify certain narrow exceptions to freedom of speech don't lead to a concept such as defamation of religion.
The concept of defamation of religion is a very worrying development. If it starts to gain legal force, it has terrible potential as an encroachment on freedom of speech. I submit that we should take this very seriously and fight against it tooth and nail. Our whole Enlightenment legacy is at stake here, and if the UN continues to take an illiberal path I see no reason for compunction about criticising the UN. The UN may or may not be a useful institution, but it is certainly not beyond trenchant criticism and satire, as and when the criticism or satire is merited.
There's no need to believe that the credibility of the UN must be retained at all costs. Doubtless, the organisation has done some good, but it has failed to achieve its crucial goal of ensuring "never again" for Nazi-like genocides and atrocities. It can't take much credit for the fact that there was never a World War III between the NATO allies and the former Soviet Union and its satellites - surely that related more to a balance of terror between nuclear-armed states. I doubt that it has done much to contribute to the fundamental freedoms enjoyed in liberal societies. In any event, no matter how wonderful the UN may be, it should attract criticism just like any other powerful organisation.
Freedom of speech has been squeezed and squeezed. Yes, it's not an absolute value that can't be overridden by other values in any circumstances whatsoever. I doubt that there are any such absolute values. But exceptions to the presumption of freedom of speech need to be justified, case by case, with compelling argument and evidence, and the exceptions then need to be defined as narrowly as possible, not used by analogy for dubious new exceptions.
The time has come to shout "Enough!" We've been moving too far in the direction of creating more and larger exceptions to freedom of speech. We need a loud, popular movement to push the other way.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Twenty years since the infamous fatwa
Yesterday was the twentieth anniversary of the infamous fatwa issued by Iran's Ayatollah Khomeini, calling for Salman Rushdie's death. To their eternal shame, many Western intellectuals chose to side with the evil ayatollah, rather than to support Rushdie's freedom of speech.
The anniversary is not exactly a cause for celebration, but it's worth marking it and reflecting on how our freedoms are still endangered by anti-liberal individuals, organisations, and institutions. We are under continual pressure to compromise precious rights such as freedom of speech and expression. Sometimes the proposals are sufficiently constrained that they might seem reasonable, and even I am not a free speech absolutist. When it comes to a battle between an individual and a huge media corporation that wants to rip away her privacy or destroy her career with lies, I'm going to side with the individual - so we need some limited kind of defamation and privacy law. But we have already gone too far in signing away our right to criticise ideas, organisations, and the performance of public figures in their public roles. It's time to push back, not time to make even more concessions.
As far as religious vilification or "defamation of religion" goes, there's plenty of evidence that the religionists - and the comfortable, well-meaning legal academics who tend to support them - will not rest until there are provisions with real teeth, provisions that will actually lead to restrictions on what can be said. The current debacle in India over Johann Hari's article is another datum in support of that inference.
With the fatwa still officially in force against Salman Rushdie, and this latest stuff-up involving Hari's article, it's a good time to reflect on what we can do to defend free speech and the rest of our Enlightenment legacy. It was hard fought-for over hundreds of years. If it's going to be taken taken from us, as I fear it will be, let's at least fight for it every millimetre of the way. Future generations should know that we tried our best.
The anniversary is not exactly a cause for celebration, but it's worth marking it and reflecting on how our freedoms are still endangered by anti-liberal individuals, organisations, and institutions. We are under continual pressure to compromise precious rights such as freedom of speech and expression. Sometimes the proposals are sufficiently constrained that they might seem reasonable, and even I am not a free speech absolutist. When it comes to a battle between an individual and a huge media corporation that wants to rip away her privacy or destroy her career with lies, I'm going to side with the individual - so we need some limited kind of defamation and privacy law. But we have already gone too far in signing away our right to criticise ideas, organisations, and the performance of public figures in their public roles. It's time to push back, not time to make even more concessions.
As far as religious vilification or "defamation of religion" goes, there's plenty of evidence that the religionists - and the comfortable, well-meaning legal academics who tend to support them - will not rest until there are provisions with real teeth, provisions that will actually lead to restrictions on what can be said. The current debacle in India over Johann Hari's article is another datum in support of that inference.
With the fatwa still officially in force against Salman Rushdie, and this latest stuff-up involving Hari's article, it's a good time to reflect on what we can do to defend free speech and the rest of our Enlightenment legacy. It was hard fought-for over hundreds of years. If it's going to be taken taken from us, as I fear it will be, let's at least fight for it every millimetre of the way. Future generations should know that we tried our best.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
In support of Johann Hari
On 28 January 2009, an opinion piece by young British journalist Johann Hari was published in The Independent. This piece is a strong argument for our right to criticise religion. Hari is, quite properly, scathing about recent developments within the UN, as a result of which the Special Rapporteur for Freedom of Expression has now been tasked with reporting on so-called abuses of freedom of speech, including "defamation" of religion. In other words, the Special Rapporteur's functions will no longer be confined to detecting and shaming those who suppress freedom of speech; it will now include attacking those who exercise freedom of speech in which ways that offend the religious.
Note that we are not talking here about the incitement of specific crimes against the religious, such as if I addressed a rioting crowd and told them to vandalise a mosque or a synagogue. We are talking about any speech that can be characterised as "defamatory" of a religion or its prophets, such as criticism of Jesus or Muhammad. We are talking about a mechanism to try to censor a wide range of robust anti-religious speech. Hari is justifiably outraged by this development.
The article goes on to elaborate that Hari feels no need to "respect" religions. I totally agree: we must affirm the right of other individuals to believe whatever superstitious or moralistic nonsense strikes them as true, and their right to speak the truth as they see it. But there is no need to esteem, or defer to, the nonsense itself.
Much of what confronts us when we examine religion, particularly but not solely the Abrahamic monotheisms, is barbaric and absurd when viewed in the light of modern scientific and moral understanding. Obviously, some religious groups have refined their doctrines to the point where they are inoffensive (I've said numerous times on this blog and elsewhere that I do not consider genuinely moderate Christians, liberal Jews, and so on, to be my enemies) and so abstract or demythologised as to defy attack on their factual claims. But there is all too much unreconstructed religion around that relies on holy books and traditions from more primitive times, and more often than not attempts to impose the dubious wisdom of these books and traditions on entire societies.
What's more, the problem will get worse. Even as non-belief continues to grow in the advanced countries of Western Europe, Oceania, and North America (even the US), barbaric, unreconstructed forms of Christianity and Islam are growing by immense numbers every year in the populous nations of Africa, South America, and the Middle East. Even in the most liberal and industrially-advanced countries, illiberal monotheisms are growing in numbers, prominence, and political influence. At the level of the United Nations, the UN's original role of preventing a recurrence of Nazi-like evils has largely been forgotten. On many issues, anti-liberal parties such as the Vatican and the key Muslim states (Iran, Syria, and others) are able to attract majorities to their position, or at least enough countries to scuttle liberal-minded initiatives that are in keeping with the UN's original mission, such as the initiative by France and the Netherlands to oppose the criminalisation of homosexuality. More liberal countries such as Canada, the countries of Western Europe, and those of Oceania, need to engage very actively to oppose these tendencies in the UN. It may be that a time will come when the UN has diverted so far from its original purpose that those countries have no choice but to leave and to form their own international organisation. If so, that is still decades away, and we shouldn't despair of the UN quite yet, but we do need to discuss these issues openly and fearlessly.
Please read Johann Hari's article. There is little in it that I disagree with, and he had every right to say what he did, whether you agree with it or not.
On 5 February, Hari's article was published in India, in a Kolkata-based newspaper called The Statesman. This seems like a valuable contribution to discussion of religion in India, in keeping with that country's secular traditions and its proud claim to being the world's largest democracy. What happened next?
In response, a group of Muslims staged protests outside the newspaper's offices. By Monday 9 February, these had turned violent. It's one thing to disagree with Hari's opinion, or even to express your disagreement by peaceful means such as a well-ordered protest. But there is no right to engage in violence, as when crowds start attacking police. Worse, this protest did not merely express disagreement with Hari's viewpoint; it sought that the editor and publisher of the newspaper be arrested for the crime, in India, of "deliberate and malicious acts intended to outrage religious feelings".
What is truly outrageous is that any supposedly democratic country should have such a crime on its statute books. Shame on India.
But there's worse to come. The outcome so far is that the individuals concerned actually were arrested! To be fair, this seems to have followed the editor's voluntary attendance at a police station in an effort to defuse tensions, but the fact remains that these people are now charged with criminal offences for publishing Hari's article. Perhaps the prosecution against them will fail (it may be difficult to prove malice), but the ability of such laws to chill valuable debate about religion is obvious. Hari himself risks being arrested if he ever travels to India. I wish I had words to express the full depths of my anger about all this.
On 13 February, The Independent published a further article by Hari entitled "Despite these riots, I stand by what I wrote". Here, Hari strongly defends freedom of speech, including freedom to criticise religion. Once again, please read what he has to say.
Johann Hari has my total support, as do the Indian journalists who have been arrested under India's contemptible legislation. Please do whatever you can to support them, to shame India, and to oppose any moves to get similar laws enacted in your own country. Even if the wording of a proposal in your country seems to be innocuous, you can be assured that people who want these laws won't stop until they are in a form that is strong enough to stifle any strong criticism of religion. Even now, supposedly liberal academics routinely complain that the defences in existing religious vilification laws here in Australia are too effective, and that stronger laws are needed to make sure that cases are brought successfully.
In my opinion, no issue is more important than this one. If we allow laws that prevent us criticising religion, we have given away the entire Enlightenment project. I'm not all that brave, but this is the one issue that I would fight for physically, if I had no other choice, or risk jail for. It embodies my deepest commitments. We must do whatever it takes to stand up for our freedom of speech in such an important area. Fortunately, I live in a society where democratic opposition is still possible, and all I feel called on to do at the moment is fight with words. But let's not be afraid to do that much.
For most of us, the prospect of violence or jail hasn't arisen yet: there are no real sacrifices demanded of us, except the sacrifice of some of our time. Thankfully, our courage is not being put to the test in any really harsh way. No one is threatening us with force. But others, such as the publisher, editor, and staff of The Statesman, are not so lucky. Please, please do whatever you can to support them and to take a stand on this overwhelmingly important issue.
Note that we are not talking here about the incitement of specific crimes against the religious, such as if I addressed a rioting crowd and told them to vandalise a mosque or a synagogue. We are talking about any speech that can be characterised as "defamatory" of a religion or its prophets, such as criticism of Jesus or Muhammad. We are talking about a mechanism to try to censor a wide range of robust anti-religious speech. Hari is justifiably outraged by this development.
The article goes on to elaborate that Hari feels no need to "respect" religions. I totally agree: we must affirm the right of other individuals to believe whatever superstitious or moralistic nonsense strikes them as true, and their right to speak the truth as they see it. But there is no need to esteem, or defer to, the nonsense itself.
Much of what confronts us when we examine religion, particularly but not solely the Abrahamic monotheisms, is barbaric and absurd when viewed in the light of modern scientific and moral understanding. Obviously, some religious groups have refined their doctrines to the point where they are inoffensive (I've said numerous times on this blog and elsewhere that I do not consider genuinely moderate Christians, liberal Jews, and so on, to be my enemies) and so abstract or demythologised as to defy attack on their factual claims. But there is all too much unreconstructed religion around that relies on holy books and traditions from more primitive times, and more often than not attempts to impose the dubious wisdom of these books and traditions on entire societies.
What's more, the problem will get worse. Even as non-belief continues to grow in the advanced countries of Western Europe, Oceania, and North America (even the US), barbaric, unreconstructed forms of Christianity and Islam are growing by immense numbers every year in the populous nations of Africa, South America, and the Middle East. Even in the most liberal and industrially-advanced countries, illiberal monotheisms are growing in numbers, prominence, and political influence. At the level of the United Nations, the UN's original role of preventing a recurrence of Nazi-like evils has largely been forgotten. On many issues, anti-liberal parties such as the Vatican and the key Muslim states (Iran, Syria, and others) are able to attract majorities to their position, or at least enough countries to scuttle liberal-minded initiatives that are in keeping with the UN's original mission, such as the initiative by France and the Netherlands to oppose the criminalisation of homosexuality. More liberal countries such as Canada, the countries of Western Europe, and those of Oceania, need to engage very actively to oppose these tendencies in the UN. It may be that a time will come when the UN has diverted so far from its original purpose that those countries have no choice but to leave and to form their own international organisation. If so, that is still decades away, and we shouldn't despair of the UN quite yet, but we do need to discuss these issues openly and fearlessly.
Please read Johann Hari's article. There is little in it that I disagree with, and he had every right to say what he did, whether you agree with it or not.
On 5 February, Hari's article was published in India, in a Kolkata-based newspaper called The Statesman. This seems like a valuable contribution to discussion of religion in India, in keeping with that country's secular traditions and its proud claim to being the world's largest democracy. What happened next?
In response, a group of Muslims staged protests outside the newspaper's offices. By Monday 9 February, these had turned violent. It's one thing to disagree with Hari's opinion, or even to express your disagreement by peaceful means such as a well-ordered protest. But there is no right to engage in violence, as when crowds start attacking police. Worse, this protest did not merely express disagreement with Hari's viewpoint; it sought that the editor and publisher of the newspaper be arrested for the crime, in India, of "deliberate and malicious acts intended to outrage religious feelings".
What is truly outrageous is that any supposedly democratic country should have such a crime on its statute books. Shame on India.
But there's worse to come. The outcome so far is that the individuals concerned actually were arrested! To be fair, this seems to have followed the editor's voluntary attendance at a police station in an effort to defuse tensions, but the fact remains that these people are now charged with criminal offences for publishing Hari's article. Perhaps the prosecution against them will fail (it may be difficult to prove malice), but the ability of such laws to chill valuable debate about religion is obvious. Hari himself risks being arrested if he ever travels to India. I wish I had words to express the full depths of my anger about all this.
On 13 February, The Independent published a further article by Hari entitled "Despite these riots, I stand by what I wrote". Here, Hari strongly defends freedom of speech, including freedom to criticise religion. Once again, please read what he has to say.
Johann Hari has my total support, as do the Indian journalists who have been arrested under India's contemptible legislation. Please do whatever you can to support them, to shame India, and to oppose any moves to get similar laws enacted in your own country. Even if the wording of a proposal in your country seems to be innocuous, you can be assured that people who want these laws won't stop until they are in a form that is strong enough to stifle any strong criticism of religion. Even now, supposedly liberal academics routinely complain that the defences in existing religious vilification laws here in Australia are too effective, and that stronger laws are needed to make sure that cases are brought successfully.
In my opinion, no issue is more important than this one. If we allow laws that prevent us criticising religion, we have given away the entire Enlightenment project. I'm not all that brave, but this is the one issue that I would fight for physically, if I had no other choice, or risk jail for. It embodies my deepest commitments. We must do whatever it takes to stand up for our freedom of speech in such an important area. Fortunately, I live in a society where democratic opposition is still possible, and all I feel called on to do at the moment is fight with words. But let's not be afraid to do that much.
For most of us, the prospect of violence or jail hasn't arisen yet: there are no real sacrifices demanded of us, except the sacrifice of some of our time. Thankfully, our courage is not being put to the test in any really harsh way. No one is threatening us with force. But others, such as the publisher, editor, and staff of The Statesman, are not so lucky. Please, please do whatever you can to support them and to take a stand on this overwhelmingly important issue.
Friday, February 13, 2009
Geert Wilders refused entry to UK
Controversial Dutch MP Geert Wilders has been refused entry to the UK.
From the little I know of Wilders, I don't think I'd like him. He strikes me as an arrogant bigot. He despises Islam, and likely despises Muslims (which is not the same thing, of course). If he had the power, he would very likely adopt extreme policies in the Netherlands.
But should he be prevented from entering a country such as the UK, or Australia if he ever wanted to come here, for the purpose of presenting his views? Should he be prosecuted for religious vilification or something similar as is currently happening to him in the Netherlands?
We need to look closely at the facts, more closely than I am going to attempt here, but I think that public authorities bear a very heavy burden of proof before they interfere with the liberties of individuals on the ground of things that the individuals have said. I realise that entry into a foreign country can be considered a privilege, rather than a right, but that is simplistic. Generally speaking, we all have the legitimate expectation that we will be allowed to travel to other countries for peaceful purposes such as putting our views on a range of issues, and provided we have complied with such formalities as having a valid passport.
Outside of the Netherlands, Wilders is probably most famous for his anti-Islam movie Fitna. Fitna is open to interpretation - it does not develop a coherent set of propositions but rather bombards the viewer with certain images that connect Islamic doctrine with Islamist terrorism. On one interpretation, it is a call to Muslims to reform their religion to expunge the elements that conduce to violence. It would doubtless be naive to assert that that is all Fitna does, though it seems to be the most overt meaning. Of course, the deeper meaning may be a message conveyed to non-Muslims: "You should fear Islam and fear Muslims." Perhaps even more sinister messages can be found there.
Compounding the problem, Wilders has not stopped at making a controversial and ambiguous film. He has advocated extreme anti-Muslim policies and made numerous public statements in which he seems to go out of his way to be as offensive as possible. As I said, this is not a man whom I'd expect to like. He has created a situation in which he is almost daring Muslim extremists to try to assassinate him. Perhaps he has a martyrdom complex, or something; I don't know.
Thus, the situation that's now arisen is more complicated and difficult than if somebody were simply trying to ban Fitna, something I'd oppose very strongly. Far from letting the film speak for itself, with all its (doubtless deliberate) ambiguity, Wilders is going out of his way to create further offence and perhaps even to make himself a security risk. That makes it far less a black-and-white issue of how governments should deal with such a man. To a very large extent, he has brought bad treatment on himself - he's deliberately tested the limits, and arguably acted unreasonably and in bad faith. It's reached the point where I hesitate to defend his freedom of speech; I can see this case from the point of view of the Dutch and British authorities.
Nonetheless, the right of the state to prevent someone shouting fire in a crowded theatre, or to prevent a demagogue from inciting an angry mob to immediate violence, must be confined closely, or these exceptions to freedom of speech will eat up the rule. So let's try to get this clear.
If someone invited Wilders to be, say, a commencement speaker at a university, that would be a poor decision, and we would have good reason to protest and argue that the decision should be reversed. No one has any legitimate expectation of being granted a great privilege of that kind, and someone so divisive would be a very poor choice. More generally, people who have the power to extend a prestigious platform to highly-divisive (or worse) speakers ought to consider how their power could be put to better use. In the end, though, the state should not interfere. It is their decision to make (but our decision whether we ask them to change their minds).
But when the state itself starts to prosecute someone for what they've said, or when it starts to keep someone out of the country for what they've said, I believe that it needs absolutely compelling justification. Wilders has probed at the limits to the point where it's difficult to feel sorry for him, but in any case like this, where there's ambiguity, we really must lean towards freedom of speech.
I'm not going to jump up and down defending Wilders, given his own behaviour, but he has not reached the point of, say, inciting specific acts of unlawful violence. In those circumstances, he should not be prosecuted for what he's said, and a country like Britain should be very reluctant to exclude him from its borders. It should concentrate on providing security for him, even if he's courting assassination, not on keeping him out. Only if it has some very solid basis to think that Wilders' behaviour is endangering bystanders, should it refuse him entry.
Unfortunately, it's easy to imagine the reaction if Wilders entered the UK, and if he were then assassinated on British soil by a suicide bomber, with massive loss of life all around. I can understand that fear, but I think we should be very reluctant to give in to it.
I don't say this with enormous enthusiasm, but I do say it clearly: "Let Wilders into the UK. Stop trying to prosecute him in the Netherlands."
From the little I know of Wilders, I don't think I'd like him. He strikes me as an arrogant bigot. He despises Islam, and likely despises Muslims (which is not the same thing, of course). If he had the power, he would very likely adopt extreme policies in the Netherlands.
But should he be prevented from entering a country such as the UK, or Australia if he ever wanted to come here, for the purpose of presenting his views? Should he be prosecuted for religious vilification or something similar as is currently happening to him in the Netherlands?
We need to look closely at the facts, more closely than I am going to attempt here, but I think that public authorities bear a very heavy burden of proof before they interfere with the liberties of individuals on the ground of things that the individuals have said. I realise that entry into a foreign country can be considered a privilege, rather than a right, but that is simplistic. Generally speaking, we all have the legitimate expectation that we will be allowed to travel to other countries for peaceful purposes such as putting our views on a range of issues, and provided we have complied with such formalities as having a valid passport.
Outside of the Netherlands, Wilders is probably most famous for his anti-Islam movie Fitna. Fitna is open to interpretation - it does not develop a coherent set of propositions but rather bombards the viewer with certain images that connect Islamic doctrine with Islamist terrorism. On one interpretation, it is a call to Muslims to reform their religion to expunge the elements that conduce to violence. It would doubtless be naive to assert that that is all Fitna does, though it seems to be the most overt meaning. Of course, the deeper meaning may be a message conveyed to non-Muslims: "You should fear Islam and fear Muslims." Perhaps even more sinister messages can be found there.
Compounding the problem, Wilders has not stopped at making a controversial and ambiguous film. He has advocated extreme anti-Muslim policies and made numerous public statements in which he seems to go out of his way to be as offensive as possible. As I said, this is not a man whom I'd expect to like. He has created a situation in which he is almost daring Muslim extremists to try to assassinate him. Perhaps he has a martyrdom complex, or something; I don't know.
Thus, the situation that's now arisen is more complicated and difficult than if somebody were simply trying to ban Fitna, something I'd oppose very strongly. Far from letting the film speak for itself, with all its (doubtless deliberate) ambiguity, Wilders is going out of his way to create further offence and perhaps even to make himself a security risk. That makes it far less a black-and-white issue of how governments should deal with such a man. To a very large extent, he has brought bad treatment on himself - he's deliberately tested the limits, and arguably acted unreasonably and in bad faith. It's reached the point where I hesitate to defend his freedom of speech; I can see this case from the point of view of the Dutch and British authorities.
Nonetheless, the right of the state to prevent someone shouting fire in a crowded theatre, or to prevent a demagogue from inciting an angry mob to immediate violence, must be confined closely, or these exceptions to freedom of speech will eat up the rule. So let's try to get this clear.
If someone invited Wilders to be, say, a commencement speaker at a university, that would be a poor decision, and we would have good reason to protest and argue that the decision should be reversed. No one has any legitimate expectation of being granted a great privilege of that kind, and someone so divisive would be a very poor choice. More generally, people who have the power to extend a prestigious platform to highly-divisive (or worse) speakers ought to consider how their power could be put to better use. In the end, though, the state should not interfere. It is their decision to make (but our decision whether we ask them to change their minds).
But when the state itself starts to prosecute someone for what they've said, or when it starts to keep someone out of the country for what they've said, I believe that it needs absolutely compelling justification. Wilders has probed at the limits to the point where it's difficult to feel sorry for him, but in any case like this, where there's ambiguity, we really must lean towards freedom of speech.
I'm not going to jump up and down defending Wilders, given his own behaviour, but he has not reached the point of, say, inciting specific acts of unlawful violence. In those circumstances, he should not be prosecuted for what he's said, and a country like Britain should be very reluctant to exclude him from its borders. It should concentrate on providing security for him, even if he's courting assassination, not on keeping him out. Only if it has some very solid basis to think that Wilders' behaviour is endangering bystanders, should it refuse him entry.
Unfortunately, it's easy to imagine the reaction if Wilders entered the UK, and if he were then assassinated on British soil by a suicide bomber, with massive loss of life all around. I can understand that fear, but I think we should be very reluctant to give in to it.
I don't say this with enormous enthusiasm, but I do say it clearly: "Let Wilders into the UK. Stop trying to prosecute him in the Netherlands."
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
CTFM watch
I see that my comment in response to the media release by Catch The Fire Ministries - in which CTFM's Danny Nalliah blamed the Victorian bushfires on liberalisation of abortion laws - has still not appeared. I'm not the only one: I'd be willing to bet that CTFM has been inundated with dozens or hundreds of unwanted responses, condemning its callous, opportunistic exploitation of this tragedy.
I wonder whether they'll ever appear.
I wonder whether they'll ever appear.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Fundies blame abortion laws for bushfires
Pastor Danny Nalliah of Catch The Fire Ministries (CTFM) has suggested that the tragic bushfires in Victoria were a consequence of the Victorian parliament's recent decision to legalise abortion. I quote from the media release:
CTFM leader, Pastor Danny Nalliah said he would spearhead an effort to provide every assistance to devastated communities, although he was not surprised by the bush fires due to a dream he had last October relating to consequences of the abortion laws passed in Victoria.
He said these bushfires have come as a result of the incendiary abortion laws which decimate life in the womb. Besides providing material assistance, CTFM will commence a seven day prayer and fasting campaign for the nation of Australia tomorrow Wednesday the 11th February.
You can read the rest of this nauseating drivel for yourself. I made a comment on CTFM's website, which was still "in moderation" last I looked. I'll quote it here, just in case in disappears. Before I come to that, though, regular readers of this blog will be aware that CTFM is the organisation that was taken to court over alleged vilification of Muslims, and got bogged down in complex litigation with the Islamic Council of Victoria. In my opinion, the case that was pursued and the legislation under which it was pursued were both misguided. I support freedom of speech even for fundamentalist organisations such as CTFM. It doesn't mean I have to like them. My comment:
Mate, I’m another person whose support you had in the religious vilification case. I do support your freedom of speech. You are free to come out with the morally repugnant garbage in this media release, and I’ll defend your right to do so - just as I reserve my right to name it for what it is.
CTFM leader, Pastor Danny Nalliah said he would spearhead an effort to provide every assistance to devastated communities, although he was not surprised by the bush fires due to a dream he had last October relating to consequences of the abortion laws passed in Victoria.
He said these bushfires have come as a result of the incendiary abortion laws which decimate life in the womb. Besides providing material assistance, CTFM will commence a seven day prayer and fasting campaign for the nation of Australia tomorrow Wednesday the 11th February.
You can read the rest of this nauseating drivel for yourself. I made a comment on CTFM's website, which was still "in moderation" last I looked. I'll quote it here, just in case in disappears. Before I come to that, though, regular readers of this blog will be aware that CTFM is the organisation that was taken to court over alleged vilification of Muslims, and got bogged down in complex litigation with the Islamic Council of Victoria. In my opinion, the case that was pursued and the legislation under which it was pursued were both misguided. I support freedom of speech even for fundamentalist organisations such as CTFM. It doesn't mean I have to like them. My comment:
Mate, I’m another person whose support you had in the religious vilification case. I do support your freedom of speech. You are free to come out with the morally repugnant garbage in this media release, and I’ll defend your right to do so - just as I reserve my right to name it for what it is.
Sky Marsen on future identities
One of the articles in the current issue of The Global Spiral is Sky Marsen's "Conceptualizing Future Identities", which would be worth reading solely for its interesting reinterpretation of the movie GATTACA, usually taken as a dire warning about the use of advanced genetic technology.
While the dystopian ambitions of GATTACA are obvious, there are other points that can be made. Since GATTACA is a favourite text for senior high school students, it would be nice if they were directed to Sky's discussion, which concludes as follows:
The film shows what might happen with technological advancement, if other factors (especially discursive and conceptual factors) are not updated to keep up with this advancement. It does this through the textual strategy of constructing a society where genetic engineering has progressed considerably since the late 20th century, but where everything else seems to be lagging. For example, the definition of "physically fit" remains exactly the same as the one used in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Vincent is barred from his desired profession because he is deemed to be not physically fit. Yet, after a while one begins to wonder why he needs perfect vision and a strong heart for the kinds of tasks his job requires. The fact that he succeeds in them, despite his "defects," shows that the definition of the agent does not match the actions of the agent. It is also interesting that "keeping fit" is still imaged as running on a treadmill, which suggests that concepts and metaphors of physicality have not changed. So, another valuable lesson of the story is the importance of the ways people think and talk about things (as manifest in concepts, definitions, metaphors, and other discursive strategies), in enabling new forms of identity to emerge.
While the dystopian ambitions of GATTACA are obvious, there are other points that can be made. Since GATTACA is a favourite text for senior high school students, it would be nice if they were directed to Sky's discussion, which concludes as follows:
The film shows what might happen with technological advancement, if other factors (especially discursive and conceptual factors) are not updated to keep up with this advancement. It does this through the textual strategy of constructing a society where genetic engineering has progressed considerably since the late 20th century, but where everything else seems to be lagging. For example, the definition of "physically fit" remains exactly the same as the one used in the late 20th and early 21st centuries. Vincent is barred from his desired profession because he is deemed to be not physically fit. Yet, after a while one begins to wonder why he needs perfect vision and a strong heart for the kinds of tasks his job requires. The fact that he succeeds in them, despite his "defects," shows that the definition of the agent does not match the actions of the agent. It is also interesting that "keeping fit" is still imaged as running on a treadmill, which suggests that concepts and metaphors of physicality have not changed. So, another valuable lesson of the story is the importance of the ways people think and talk about things (as manifest in concepts, definitions, metaphors, and other discursive strategies), in enabling new forms of identity to emerge.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Driving through smoke
Jenny and I have just spent a week in Newcastle, the city where we grew up and met, and where many of our loved ones still live. We have a vague (but increasingly less so) plan of shifting back there some time late this year.
Thus, we were 1000 kilometres away during the worst of the fires in Victoria over the weekend. When we're up in Newcastle, we tend not to be spending time watching TV or listening to the radio, or keeping abreast of things on the Internet, so we can get quite a few hours behind with the news. Although we knew that there were bushfires in Victoria (and, indeed, in New South Wales), we had no idea of the scale of what was happening. Of course, no one outside the affected areas really started to grasp the enormity of it until Sunday morning as the confirmed death toll started to mount.
On Saturday, we visited my father for a long chat over morning tea. Afterwards, we checked our emails and did some business over the net, then spent a while looking at houses in our current quest to get a good understanding of the Newcastle property market. We had a late lunch, spent a relaxing afternoon avoiding the summer heat, then went out in the evening, accompanied by lovely Amanda Pitcairn, to a local Japanese restaurant. During all this time, we pretty much avoided the news. We only started to get an idea on the Sunday morning.
Sunday was our day to drive back to Melbourne. We got past Sydney just fine, but had some car trouble during the afternoon - our old but normally reliable car has been overheating - and the result was that we didn't get as far as Gundagai until late in the day. The morning papers and the news reports on New South Wales radio stations were still not giving us a picture of the full scale of the tragedy that had been unfolding in Victoria, and Jenny's sister texted us a report that the Hume Highway was clear after having been cut at some point. As far as our own safety was concerned, we were confident, but we were getting more of an inkling of how bad things were.
The scene as we drove into the famous "Dog on the Tuckerbox" service station/fast food complex near Gundagai was eerie. The sky was filled with smoke and the western sun - still relatively high in the sky, with sunset at least an hour away - shone through blood red. We were driving into Mordor.
Running so late, we didn't approach the Victorian border until near-dark, the sun transforming to a pale purple-pink - very like a ball of burning gas, actually - as it sank behind the hills. We drove south through Victoria, peering through the dark and the smoke - never thick enough to be dangerous, but enough for us to smell it and see it was there - listening to Victorian ABC on the car radio. By now, we were getting a rolling report on the disaster; our ears were pricked for any warnings that suggested we might be in personal danger as we cruised down the highway (we weren't). At this stage, the worst was long over - temperatures had dropped from their Saturday peaks, many of the fires were under control, and we were travelling through the aftermath of the disaster, not the disaster itself. Still, as we listened to the rising count of confirmed deaths, the lists of school and road closures, the reports on events relating to particular fires and localities (oddly similar to an election-night round-up of local battles lost and won in electorates hither and thither), it was a sombre experience. Again and again, we hummed down long stretches of road without saying a word, just absorbing what the voices on the radio were telling us.
A couple of millimetres of nuisance rain fell. Truckies drove like maniacs on the empty road. Two or three bolts of lightning from a dry electrical storm split the sky near Shepparton. We stopped now and then, taking things easy after the particularly difficult drive between Sydney and Gundagai, what with our distracting car troubles. We were tired but not at all cranky, often communicating with just a hand on the other's knee. Fortunately, the old Integra was now performing just fine in the somewhat cooler air of the evening.
At about 1 a.m. on Monday morning, we arrived home safely ... never having been in any personal danger or having felt any real concern for ourselves. But what do you say in such situations? What can I add to what has already been said many times? Of course, there have been far worse disasters in other parts of the world, with enormously greater loss of life. But there is still something especially sobering when you come close to the disaster yourself (we would have had real difficulty getting home 24 hours before, and we nodded to each other as we passed burnt areas along the road, before it became too dark and we could see no more than the occasional glowing ember). There's something that especially affects your emotions when it's your own society that's been harmed, and the people killed are almost your neighbours.
It's all grim, but for those who've been wondering, we personally were never endangered by the fires, and we're completely safe now, no matter what happens this week, living in the middle of a huge international city.
But of course, we're keenly aware of all the less fortunate people, out in the countryside, not that far away from us city mice. So many have lost loved ones or family homes, lived through unimaginable terror or survived with awful burns or other wounds. My thoughts are with them this summer morning.
Thus, we were 1000 kilometres away during the worst of the fires in Victoria over the weekend. When we're up in Newcastle, we tend not to be spending time watching TV or listening to the radio, or keeping abreast of things on the Internet, so we can get quite a few hours behind with the news. Although we knew that there were bushfires in Victoria (and, indeed, in New South Wales), we had no idea of the scale of what was happening. Of course, no one outside the affected areas really started to grasp the enormity of it until Sunday morning as the confirmed death toll started to mount.
On Saturday, we visited my father for a long chat over morning tea. Afterwards, we checked our emails and did some business over the net, then spent a while looking at houses in our current quest to get a good understanding of the Newcastle property market. We had a late lunch, spent a relaxing afternoon avoiding the summer heat, then went out in the evening, accompanied by lovely Amanda Pitcairn, to a local Japanese restaurant. During all this time, we pretty much avoided the news. We only started to get an idea on the Sunday morning.
Sunday was our day to drive back to Melbourne. We got past Sydney just fine, but had some car trouble during the afternoon - our old but normally reliable car has been overheating - and the result was that we didn't get as far as Gundagai until late in the day. The morning papers and the news reports on New South Wales radio stations were still not giving us a picture of the full scale of the tragedy that had been unfolding in Victoria, and Jenny's sister texted us a report that the Hume Highway was clear after having been cut at some point. As far as our own safety was concerned, we were confident, but we were getting more of an inkling of how bad things were.
The scene as we drove into the famous "Dog on the Tuckerbox" service station/fast food complex near Gundagai was eerie. The sky was filled with smoke and the western sun - still relatively high in the sky, with sunset at least an hour away - shone through blood red. We were driving into Mordor.
Running so late, we didn't approach the Victorian border until near-dark, the sun transforming to a pale purple-pink - very like a ball of burning gas, actually - as it sank behind the hills. We drove south through Victoria, peering through the dark and the smoke - never thick enough to be dangerous, but enough for us to smell it and see it was there - listening to Victorian ABC on the car radio. By now, we were getting a rolling report on the disaster; our ears were pricked for any warnings that suggested we might be in personal danger as we cruised down the highway (we weren't). At this stage, the worst was long over - temperatures had dropped from their Saturday peaks, many of the fires were under control, and we were travelling through the aftermath of the disaster, not the disaster itself. Still, as we listened to the rising count of confirmed deaths, the lists of school and road closures, the reports on events relating to particular fires and localities (oddly similar to an election-night round-up of local battles lost and won in electorates hither and thither), it was a sombre experience. Again and again, we hummed down long stretches of road without saying a word, just absorbing what the voices on the radio were telling us.
A couple of millimetres of nuisance rain fell. Truckies drove like maniacs on the empty road. Two or three bolts of lightning from a dry electrical storm split the sky near Shepparton. We stopped now and then, taking things easy after the particularly difficult drive between Sydney and Gundagai, what with our distracting car troubles. We were tired but not at all cranky, often communicating with just a hand on the other's knee. Fortunately, the old Integra was now performing just fine in the somewhat cooler air of the evening.
At about 1 a.m. on Monday morning, we arrived home safely ... never having been in any personal danger or having felt any real concern for ourselves. But what do you say in such situations? What can I add to what has already been said many times? Of course, there have been far worse disasters in other parts of the world, with enormously greater loss of life. But there is still something especially sobering when you come close to the disaster yourself (we would have had real difficulty getting home 24 hours before, and we nodded to each other as we passed burnt areas along the road, before it became too dark and we could see no more than the occasional glowing ember). There's something that especially affects your emotions when it's your own society that's been harmed, and the people killed are almost your neighbours.
It's all grim, but for those who've been wondering, we personally were never endangered by the fires, and we're completely safe now, no matter what happens this week, living in the middle of a huge international city.
But of course, we're keenly aware of all the less fortunate people, out in the countryside, not that far away from us city mice. So many have lost loved ones or family homes, lived through unimaginable terror or survived with awful burns or other wounds. My thoughts are with them this summer morning.
Saturday, February 07, 2009
New issue of The Global Spiral
I'm away from home for a couple of days so I will just briefly direct readers to the new (February 2009) issue of The Global Spiral, which contains essays by ten thinkers associated with the transhumanist movement - among them yours truly.
My own defence of transhumanism is milder, more equivocal, than some, but I nonetheless believe that much of the criticism in the earlier issue on transhumanism was unfair and ill-informed. This new issue should restore the balance.
Comments welcome.
My own defence of transhumanism is milder, more equivocal, than some, but I nonetheless believe that much of the criticism in the earlier issue on transhumanism was unfair and ill-informed. This new issue should restore the balance.
Comments welcome.
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