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StatCounter Props
A Game of Lawn Mower Chicken
As you can see, I didn’t stand a chance. Toddlers are fearless. The memory is a bit fuzzy, but I think I “chickened” first.
Atheists Have No Morals
The notion that atheists have no morals is intriguing, so as a loving husband, father, and atheist, I thought it might be interesting to address this rather sweeping indictment. During the course of compiling my thoughts, it occurred to me that it might be helpful to have working definitions of the two key words in the title of this post:
- Moral: of or relating to principles of right and wrong in behavior.
- Atheist: one who believes that there is no deity.
Both definitions were retrieved from Merriam-Webster Online. I disagree somewhat with the definition for “atheist”, but the issue is a philosophical one. The definition is adequate for this discussion.
First, let’s examine the statement “Atheists have no morals.” One only need ponder that claim for a few moments to realize that those who would make such a claim are not engaging in moral behavior, if we accept that passing judgment on a person or group of people is “wrong in behavior” and, thus, immoral. (See definition above.) If the act of claiming that someone or something is immoral is itself an immoral act, one could logically assume that the claim has no validity and that the author of the statement has no credibility.
As exciting as philosophy and logic can be, I’m more interested in making my own statement:
“Atheists do have morals.”
My sense of right and wrong are not derived from a higher being. Theists will argue that our laws passed down through the generations, but ultimately laid out by a creator. They may argue that our sense of what’s right and wrong is the manifestation of a higher power inside of us. These explanations worked very well in the earliest days of civilization, when they were devised to explain the unknown. As our understanding of the world around us has grown through science, however, these types of explanations seem less adequate than they once were.
While I’m not a scientist, I’ve come to understand — thanks to the works of many wonderful authors — that our sense of right and wrong first began to develop millions of years ago among the earliest human ancestors. A basic set of ground rules developed out of the need to survive. Those who cooperated and adhered to these simple tenets were allowed to continue with the pack. Those who didn’t, were abandoned or killed. Over time, as environments changed and intelligence increased, so too did the complexity and scope of the rules. Additionally, our conscience began to develop as our brain capacity increased and became capable of processing more emotions. These days, we not only have the ability to follow rules, but we have evolved in such a way that we can sympathize with others and do our best to treat our fellow humans with respect and dignity. Sadly, there are some who still don’t follow the rules, and end up alone, in prison, dead, or all of the above. Evolution is still working on us.
As for my own, atheist, moral compass? It’s working just fine, as long as I get it readjusted every so often. If I miss my regular adjustment, watch out. I may start making sweeping judgments about theists.
Waiting it Out
Today, Cooper had a tantrum when we got home from daycare. He was ticked because a small, empty, water bottle that he was using to amuse himself in the car needed to be left in the car. Why? Because that’s the way the world works sometimes. We don’t always get to take the junk out of daddy’s car into the house. He stood in the driveway, stomped his feet and wailed. I walked to the front door and went about my business and prepared to get settled in the house.
It was at this point that I could have let impatience or fear of potential embarrassment get the better of me. (Five years ago, the unmedicated Rob would have.) Instead, I waited out the tantrum for about five minutes. Cooper calmed down enough to head towards the front door and come inside.
Someone told me years ago that tantrums don’t need to be rewarded any kind of attention. This notion was recently reinforced to me when I read virtually the same sage advice in a pamphlet from our pediatrician. Additionally, I read that immediate and swift removal from ground zero is also acceptable, if the location is not ideal for waiting out the tantrum. Kandis and I seem to be in agreement on this issue: tantrums are to be ignored.
In case there was any lingering curiosity as to how the rest of our tantrum story played out, here it is. Once Cooper was inside, things were back to “normal.” I then made the mistake of taking off his new shoes which resulted in a new tantrum, accompanied by a screaming chorus of “My new shoes!!”
