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The Five Most Important Books I Read in 2011

By on February 29, 2012 in Recommended Reading, Ruminations

Before getting too deep into 2012 (ok, we’re a little deep, but I started drafting this a month ago), I wanted to make sure I tell you about some of the most important books I read during 2011, the same year I got a Kindle!

I read many great books as a result of that simple piece of technology and a commitment I made to myself to devote time reading each week.  Reading became more of a therapeutic meditation time for me last year than ever before, especially on beautiful summer weekends where I would bike ride and read by the several small lakes near my house.   I hope to make book reviews a regular part of this blog, since they’re an important part of my path of life.

So, while many books I read last year were fantastic, there were a handful that stuck out as not only enjoyable, but important.  Important, as in, every human should read them, without exception.  Not all of them were written last year, but last year is when I got the chance to read them.  Here are the five books (not in order of importance, but more in order of suggested reading), and some of my brief thoughts about each one:

1)     [easyazon-link asin=”0805091254″ locale=”us”]The Believing Brain, by Michael Shermer[/easyazon-link]

2)     [easyazon-link asin=”1846942721″ locale=”us”]The Religion Virus, by Craig A. James[/easyazon-link]

3)     [easyazon-link asin=”0060859512″ locale=”us”]Misquoting Jesus, by Bart Ehrman[/easyazon-link]

4)     [easyazon-link asin=”B006W3YQTK” locale=”us”]The Moral Landscape, by Sam Harris[/easyazon-link]

5)     [easyazon-link asin=”B005N0KL5G” locale=”us”]Lying, by Sam Harris[/easyazon-link]

 

The Believing Brain, by Michael Shermer simply and clearly explains how humans’ propensity for believing in superstition is driven by an evolutionary need to make quick decisions or end up as food, and how not believing in superstition was probably weeded out of our ancestors.  His story of an early primate who hears a rustling in the high grass having to make a decision about whether he hears a predator or just the wind is a pure genius, yet its a simple way of explaining why we see shadow monsters in the night.  Understanding this evolutionary ingrained intuition is the first step for humanity in moving past basing our decisions and societal structures on that false “patternicty,” as Shermer defines it. People believe their own brains far more than they should, and that has gotten us into a lot of trouble over the millennia.  Shermer nicely sets the foundation to understanding how all man-made myth and superstitions came to be.

[easyazon-image align=”undefined” asin=”B004GHN26W” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51FL9CmjpLL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″]

 

The Religion Virus, by Craig A. James is the next step beyond The Believing Brain, taking why we’re prone to superstition into the reason why religion continues to this day, despite our development of the scientific method, and virtual disproof of most religions that exist today.  Beginning with the history of Yahweh, the God of the Israelites who would develop into the “all powerful” god Jews, Christians and Muslims know today, and then explaining how the meme’s — or stories — of religion stuck with each generation and evolved just as a virus, (or a good joke), does.  James also explains how animism turned into pantheism then to monotheism.  This book erased any doubt I may have had about the historical evolution of the idea of gods and god and did so with personal reflections, historical fact, wonderful metaphors, and brutal clarity.  With my own religious background being that of a Christian, now more than ever I am confounded by my former believing self for not seeing how the god of the old testament is clearly not the god of Christianity.  And if that is true, what among the Abrahamic religions is there to believe in?  Thank goodness, my answer is “nothing supernatural.”

[easyazon-image align=”none” asin=”B0046A9JMA” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51dstvLqHAL._SL160_.jpg” width=”103″]

 

Misquoting Jesus, by Bart D. Ehrman, dives into the specifics of one of those religious meme’s — the spread of Christianity, and specifically, how the books of the New Testament were written, and altered by regular humans, each with their very human agenda’s, biases, and flaws.  Ehrman explains that there are more mistakes — whether by intention or inattention — than there are words in the New Testament!  Most people know that the books of the new testament were written starting around 30 years after the death of Jesus Christ, and none of the books were written by people who ever had met Jesus, but what’s more astonishing is the idea that the earliest known texts contain more errors and discrepancies than the later versions, primarily because earlier scribes who would hand copy texts were untrained laymen, members of their congregations copying texts in their spare time, while later as Christianity spread, scribes were professional and devoted to accuracy.  Mis-quoting Jesus puts into plain words how the new testament contradicts itself in profound and important ways, and how biblical scholars, including clergy, have known this for at least a couple of centuries, but do not teach these well accepted understandings to the masses.  Beyond the errors, Ehrman outlines the different variations of early Christianity, and how each sect’s disputes with each other and their pursuit of converts impacted what eventually became the winning doctrine, and that the winner may not have been close to what Jesus’ mission actually was about. He proves that this is not some conspiracy theory from modern scientists, but historically supported concepts. The bible does contain significant flaws, and anyone believing current Christian doctrine does so while ignoring truths that in virtually every other area of human study would cause most people to dismiss their devotion to flawed thinking and ideas.

[easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B000SEGJF8″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/512kDCXRwJL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″]

 

The Moral Landscape, by Sam Harris, is by far the most important book I’ve ever read in my life.  As a former Christian, one of the things that pained and concerned me as I gravitated towards atheism was how to justify morality without God. I knew there were right and wrong answers, and that misery should be avoided and happiness should be increased, but I couldn’t articulate for myself or my Christian friends how to convey that morality can exist without a higher power dictating what the rules are.  Enter Sam Harris and BAM!  Everything was clear.  Harris doesn’t spend time detailing what behaviors are good or bad, but his main thesis is that there are one or more right ways to live and one or more wrong ways to live.  The right ways are those that maximize human well-being, and the wrong ways are those leading to human misery.  He likens these ways to peaks and valleys on a landscape.  There could be multiple high peaks and multiple routes to take to get to them, just as there are for the valleys.  There doesn’t have to be one right way to live, but Harris takes it a step further to say that morality can be scientifically understood and studied, at least to a point.  Right and wrong can be objective, even if studied through subjective data gathering methods.  There are wrong and right answers to our questions of well-being, whether or not we can ever know them.  It is on this point that I believe he loses many people, but why that is is a mystery to me.  He likens the concept to birds in flight.  Right now, there are a specific, finite number of birds in flight on earth.  There is a right answer to that question.  Whether or not we can know the answer (we can’t), does not change the fact that a specific, correct answer exists.  So it goes with morality, maybe.  Whether we can definitively know the answer does not mean we cannot study the question scientifically.  Everyone knows there is human happiness and there is human suffering. Sometimes it’s difficult to maximize happiness, without causing some suffering.  That is the difficulty of these questions, but that doesn’t mean we should forfeit that responsibility to a deity that makes it his business to watch us suffer rather than clarify such important questions for us.  If Harris left me with one idea, it’s that the single most important goal of our species should be to maximize (all) human well-being and minimize (all) human suffering.  And that responsibility rests within each of us, not with “god.”

[easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B003V1WT72″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/519-RISqkmL._SL160_.jpg” width=”104″]

 

Lying, by Sam Harris and Anika Harris is a lovely conceptual footnote to The Moral Landscape, though not at all a sequel.  It is a short essay more than a book, so you have no excuse to not read it.  It will take you an hour max.  While I’m not sure I completely agree with the thesis, no book has stirred my thinking on a deeply personal level like this one did.  I previously believed that there are times when lying is ok (like not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings).  After reading “Lying” I’m not so sure anymore.  Harris makes a compelling argument for why lying is never good because every single lie erodes the fabric of trust between those involved. Eventually that trust leads to less deep relationships, and eventually all kinds of societal ills.  While not lying may be hard, and even uncomfortable (“no, I never wear that sweater you got me for Christmas, grandma, because its hiddeous.”), it is nonetheless pivotal to human growth and a better society, and better world to try.

[easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B005N0KL5G” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31BX0aEcV%2BL._SL160_.jpg” width=”130″]

 

So, there you have it… My list of the most important books I read during 2011.  They took me on a journey of human historical, psychological, and ethical understanding that I wanted to share with you in the hopes that you might have a similar experience and chance to grow as a result.  These authors and their ideas certainly helped me take a few steps closer to being the person I want to be, and part of a society I want to live in.  Since I cannot come close to doing their books justice, I suggest you let them tell you in their own words what they have to say.  Check them out!

[easyazon-image align=”undefined” asin=”B004GHN26W” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51FL9CmjpLL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″] [easyazon-image align=”none” asin=”B0046A9JMA” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51dstvLqHAL._SL160_.jpg” width=”103″] [easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B000SEGJF8″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/512kDCXRwJL._SL160_.jpg” width=”106″] [easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B003V1WT72″ locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/519-RISqkmL._SL160_.jpg” width=”104″] [easyazon-image align=”center” asin=”B005N0KL5G” locale=”us” height=”160″ src=”http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/31BX0aEcV%2BL._SL160_.jpg” width=”130″]

 

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The Trouble with Blogging

By on September 25, 2011 in Ruminations

[This post was originally published on 9/25/2011 on a blog I no longer update, and have merged here].

One paradox with writing a blog accessible to the world is that carving one’s ideas in virtual stone is both a way to live forever in a moment in time, and well… it’s a way to live forever in a moment in time.

No misprint.

I have no children and likely never will for many reasons.  In a way, I’m rejecting nature’s way of solving the problem of legacy by procreation to pass on my DNA, and I’m manufacturing a non-biological child instead.  People do this in many ways every day, whether in politics, by making scientific discoveries, inventing a new product, acting in a film, writing a novel, or the myriad of other ways people are remembered other than through family lines.  Based on my own abilities in life, I’m fairly certain my only shot at living forever is by writing something others can continue to read.  This blog is not the only way to achieve that, but it is one.  For now, it is ok that my real name isn’t attached to the words. Maybe it never will be, but the ideas are mine, and they will live on indefinitely in the ether via the web.

That’s a powerful driving force, and speaks a lot to the popularity and appeal of blogs in general.  For me it’s not enough that I write.  I need others to read what I write, or it dies, and a part of me dies.

But the other side of the coin, especially for a blog designed to “seek the truth” is that this is a journey.  I no more want to be beholden to ideas and words I believed yesterday but no longer identify with than I wish to grow antennae on the top of my head.  I don’t want to  absolve myself from something I said or wrote in the past, but I don’t want people to use pieces of my past against me if it’s no longer part of who I am.

I recognize that it’s an impossible dream.  Humans do this every day – make judgments of our character based on past choices.  Our interactions with each other are the sum of our previous interactions, assumptions, and pieces of ourselves we allow each others to witness.  No single person has all of the puzzle pieces that make me who I am, or who you are.  What’s more, our own tendency for patternicity makes us prone to subconsciously cherry-picking the parts we want to remember about someone.  Not to mention the parts of ourselves we hold back from each other for a multitude of reasons ranging from mistrust, fear, disinterest, or just lack of time.

Given these conditions, completely knowing another person is next to impossible, even when they write it down for the world to read for all time in a blog.  I only ask that we remember that as we learn more about each other.

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Remembering and Reflecting, Ten Years After September 11, 2001

By on September 11, 2011 in Atheism & Skepticism, US & International Affairs

[This post was originally published on 9/11/2011 on a blog I no longer update, and have merged here].

September 11, 2011 changed me forever. Changed my life, too, but mostly it changed me.

I often feel I have no right to speak of it, mourn it, internalize it, to be so profoundly impacted by it. I lost no one close to me that day.  Driving to work that morning in Midwestern America, I was far from the attacks’ epicenters. I was never in danger. I was a 25 year old trying to carve out and understand who she wanted to be and who she thought she was.

9/11 did that for me. It helped to chisel me out as a person.  But in a way, it also would eventually in various ways knock me down.

The horror of that day motivated me to choose a new career in the federal government in an agency where I believed I could help to prevent an attack like that from ever happening again.  I had been drifting after college in a meaningless job, and wanted to find my passion and pursue it.  In hindsight, I wanted to connect myself to the tragedy in some tangible way. America was so thoroughly wounded, and I wanted to feel that day’s heartbeat, and make it part of mine.

I wanted to make a difference.

I believed I’d finally found my calling in life.  It was a powerful feeling. Soon after starting the new job, I saw glimmers of what would drive me to leave it nearly eight years later, but mostly I was content and happy with my new path. I wanted to be part of the solution to prevent what happened from ever happening again. My love for America’s ideals – our liberty, our individualism and paradoxical spirit-of-community, our freedom to pursue happiness, our “anyone can make it” attitude, and our mosaic and messy history – coursed through my veins.  It still does.

And, I believed I mattered.

That was the good thing about 9/11 for me – that belief that I could make a difference. I naively thought one hardworking, passionate person could solve the worlds’ and the country’s problems.

That was the bad thing about 9/11 for me. I eventually lost my sense of hope. I became cynical. Not because of 9/11 itself, but because of the path I chose after it. I became lost in a bureaucracy that frankly ate me alive. It’s a tricky thing though… reflection. I honestly can say I have no regrets about my choice to begin my new path. I do regret how it ended. I will save those details for another time. Today, with this blog, I’m at the start of a journey to find a new path and rediscover the idealism and naivety I once had. Those were good days.

9/11 pushed me into a new way of thinking about the natural world, far from where I had been. I was raised a protestant Christian, though not by an extremely religious family.  My parents are believers, and taught me bible stories, but we were not bible thumpers.  In summer, we missed many Sunday mornings in church.  During middle school, through involvement with the youth group, I had grown very spiritual in my faith on my own.  God had become the most important thing in my life, and everything I did was influenced by those beliefs.  But towards the end of high school, my passion had begun to dwindle.  I didn’t understand why.  I still believed, but I didn’t feel the passion for it.

Although I had started down a path of rational thought and belief based on evidence and reason long before (even during the height of my religiosity), 2001-2002 was a pivotal year for my growth as a human. I had been struggling to regain a Christian faith I’d felt was slipping further away. That loss pained me and I’d been trying to find my footing, pick myself up, and find my way back home.  I wanted to believe again.

9/11 was also the catalyst that led me to the next important moment in my deconversion.  At the start of a solo vacation to Lake Tahoe in April 2002, a blizzard stranded me at my own airport for a twelve hour delay.   While waiting for my flight to leave, reading an article in a thrown away copy of Harper’s magazine about the evidence against the bible’s version of the Exodus, I had a revelation.  It literally felt as though a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, and a huge burden had been discarded.  I didn’t see God or angels.  Instead I had an overwhelming sensation of the release of anxiety: I now felt allowed to pursue other ideas and beliefs no matter where they might take me. This was a big deal. My mind was suddenly opened to all possible outcomes and reasons for existence. I hadn’t suddenly lost my faith, or my belief in God, but no longer was I bound by the limitation of my Judeo-Christian understanding of life after death, and what disbelief in it could mean.

In short, I accepted the possibility that pursuing a world view other than Christianity could result in my eternal damnation.

Not an easy thing to accept; yet at the same time it was. I now quietly celebrate April 1 (yes, April Fools Day!) each year as my “Epiphany Day.” I’ll save the rest of that for another blog in the future.

Many months had passed between 9/11 and that day, but my willingness to hear new ideas had pushed me further from the God I’d known and loved, and more towards agnosticism.  It was scary and exhilarating at the same time.  Yet, as of 8:45 am eastern standard time on the morning of 9/11/2001, I still believed in God. By the time I closed my eyes to go to sleep that night, I did not.  I only realized this later after reflection, but 9/11/2001 was the day I stopped believing in supernatural explanations for all things, and threw my lot in with science, reason and logic.  It was the event that opened my mind to that realization I had on my trip to Tahoe.  Without 9/11, I could still be a struggling Christian, miserable with herself for her hypocrisy and loss of heart.

Thus began my transformation into a skeptic. I try not to define myself by one word, or one set of beliefs. I am the combination of all of my beliefs, dreams, and experiences. Just as you are. And tomorrow that combination, and net result could – and probably will – change.  But if I must chose one, skeptic would be the word that best defines me.

All of that detail sets the stage for this blog. I chose to post my first entry on the ten year anniversary of September 11, 2001 with purpose. It marks an important date for me for many reasons. Without that day, my country, my life and me would be so very different, for better and for worse.  Right now, I’m not sure which it is.  Maybe its both. I do know this: I love to learn, I love to debate.  I aim to seek the truth.  I cannot do this alone.  I’ve heard there are three sides to every story.  Your side, my side, and The Truth.  All three touch each other. My ambition is that through reasoned and challenging discussion, we can help each other find the truth about a great many things.

This blog isn’t about any one thing in particular.  My interests run far and wide and my whims are even faster.  I guarantee that while you may agree with me on one topic, you will vehemently disagree with me on others.  But if you love critical thinking, and are willing to consider other options, I think we’ll be great friends, or at the very least, teach each other something.

September 11 means many things to me.  What I hope for 9/11/2011 is that I can begin a journey with you to use one of our unalienable rights (and I don’t believe that phrase applies merely to Americans) to speak openly and freely while in the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.

The rules for this blog are simple: Say what’s on your mind about an issue I raise, but do so in a civilized and respectful manner.  Criticize the idea, not the person expressing it.  Only then will all people feel free to share their ideas.  And I want to hear what you have to say!  I want you to challenge my beliefs just as I’ll challenge yours.  It’s great to meet you.

Get ready for a wild ride!

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