There is much to blog about.  In my weeks-long absence from this space – the result of nothing but distraction – I have regularly sent myself emails of articles and ideas to blog.  But it has taken some time to overcome inertia.  In any event, there are many and varied topics to take up.  But the one for today, for no particular reason, is a response to an interview with Alain de Botton (h/t Sullivan) on his new book, Religion for Atheists. 

I haven't read the book, but I will.  Sounds engaging.  The interview, however, gets at some interesting things.  de Botton is drawn to the question of ethics without religion; in a sense: can we be good without God?  He obviously believes we can – he presents himself as an atheist – but there are some intriguing issues along the way.  A few of the problems:

In my book, I argue that believing in God is, for me as for many others, simply not possible. At the same time, I want to suggest that if you remove this belief, there are particular dangers that open up – we don’t need to fall into these dangers, but they are there and we should be aware of them. For a start, there is the danger of individualism: of placing the human being at the center stage of everything. Secondly, there is the danger of technological perfectionism; of believing that science and technology can overcome all human problems, that it is just a matter of time before scientists have cured us of the human condition. Thirdly, without God, it is easier to lose perspective: to see our own times as everything, to forget the brevity of the present moment and to cease to appreciate (in a good way) the miniscule nature of our own achievements. And lastly, without God, there can be a danger that the need for empathy and ethical behaviour can be overlooked.

My response, as usual, is conditioned by Daoism.  The first thing that strikes me is how, from that perspective, none of these really need to be problems.  Indeed, the sensibility of the Daodejing and Zhuangzi is precisely what de Botton is looking for: the individual is not at the center of things but submerged in an unknowable and constantly changing universe, the broadest understanding of "dao;" technology, since it is a human creation and therefore fallible, does not provide ultimate answers for the human search for meaning; our moment in dao is minuscule; and we should be careful not to impinge upon the natural unfolding of the experience of others in dao, which I see as a kind of empathy.

Daoism developed before and distinct from Christianity.  Its early development was not, as far as I know, influenced by Judaism or other forms of monotheism.  It assumed the existence of spirits and ghosts and, as it took shape in interaction with Buddhism as a canonized religion, came to accept the ideas of an afterlife: a heaven and hell.  But Daoism never seems to rely upon the presence of a singular god-like figure to provide moral guidance.  Dao does that, or, better, learning to follow dao will lead some to a better life (yes, I think there is an ameliorative promise in the early texts).  And there is a kind of idealism as well: peole will learn to follow dao, and that will infuse them with humility and simplicity and empathy.  Not all will follow dao; there will always be those who adore "twisty paths."   But that is just the human condition.  To believe in some sort of complete and ultimate perfectability is to ignore the imperfections of humanity.

So, the anxieties the de Botton describes are culturally specific.  And at some level he recognizes this:

Much of modern moral thought has been transfixed by the idea that a collapse in belief must have irreparably damaged our capacity to build a convincing ethical framework for ourselves. But this argument, while apparently atheistic in nature, owes a strange, unwarranted debt to a religious mindset – for only if we truly believed at some level that God did exist, and that the foundations of morality were therefore in their essence supernatural, would the recognition of his nonexistence have any power to shake our moral principles.

Implicit in that last statement is its opposite: that is, if we start with the assumption that God does not exist, and we shield ourselves from the powerful cultural currents that insist that he (it?) does, then our moral principles need not be shaken by the fear of the absence of God.  We can just get on with recognizing the vastness of dao, opening ourselves to its natural unfolding, and not infringinge on how others experience their place and time in dao.  Which could be the start of a moral life….

In yielding is completion.  In bent is straight. In hollow is full.  In exhaustion is renewal.  In little is contentment.  In much is confusion.

This is how a sage embraces primal unity as the measure of all beneath heaven.

Give up self-reflection and you're soon enlightened.

Give up self-definition and you're soon apparent.

Give up self-promotion and you're soon proverbial.

Give up self-esteem and you're soon perennial.

Simply give up contention and soon nothing in all beneath heaven contends with you.

It was hardly empty talk when the ancients declared in yielding is completion.  Once you perfect completion you've returned home to it all.

DDJ 22