On Cohabitation…

It doesn’t take an incredible amount of investigation to determine the Mormon viewpoint on relationships. From “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” to their recent push against marriage equality laws, their wish for the heterosexual nuclear family unit to prevail as society’s gold standard is clear and loudly spoken. Further to this, with dating forbidden until the age of 16, no sexual intimacy before marriage, and the apparent need for the man to be a return missionary before tying the knot means that the ‘relationship life’ of young Mormons is incredibly proscriptive. Marriage is also made the number one priority for young women, and men who have returned from missionary service.

So it hasn’t really come as any kind of surprise that, at 23, I find all the Mormons who were part of my peer group are already married, and a fair few people a few years my junior have also wedded off. I do have some sympathy for the jokes that say people are going to get married young if that is the barrier between them and getting laid, but I think the Mormon norm is about more than that, and as such is a lot more toxic.

Now, this isn’t to say that many Mormon marriages aren’t happy, fulfilling and long-lasting. However, the culture of getting married young, and implying that a failure to marry is a defect of the individual, is not without consequence. This pressure to marry has resulted in a nineteen year old divorcee within my circle of acquaintances. By effectively discouraging long engagements, people are getting married without really knowing the person they are making eternal promises with. I would even argue at such a young age, people are making such promises without even knowing themselves. It is no surprise to see such relationships fail, and I imagine there are many unhappy relationships out there for whom divorce remains too much of a taboo. Unsurprisingly, the church looks down on divorce, and considers it a last resort.

Another toxic attitude this perpetuates is the idea that you are on the shelf at 25. This stems from a quote from the 2nd President of the Mormon church, Brigham Young, who implied unmarried people above 25 were a menace to society. Though many people only use it in jest, it is something that many young Mormons take to heart, and find themselves wondering why they have fallen short of the gold standard, seeing themselves at fault. Especially women, who may think that by pursuing education or a career, they have failed to set their priorities correctly.

So, leaving aside the fact that I am gay, I really do not share the gold-standard valuation that the Mormon church places on this view of relationships. Though civil partnerships would have effectively allowed me to emulate the Mormon model, it is not a pursuit I consider healthy or wise for the majority of people.

For one thing, it means all relationships have to be set in the context of finding an eternal partner. No casual relationships to explore your personality or – heaven forbid – sexuality. No dating outside of a tight social group, unless you are sure you can convert them. You have one eternal partner to find, and the clock is ticking. This hardly seems to be the optimal formula for finding and exploring healthy relationships.   

In about a months time I will begin cohabiting with my boyfriend. I can remember lessons where the rise in cohabitation was seen as a sign of the increasing wickedness of society. Such people, we were told, lack the virtues required to fulfil a proper relationship. Now I realise, cohabitation is a step in a normal, healthy relationship. One does not need to make eternal promises to validate love. Taking a long time to get to know each other well is a sign of sanity, not sinfulness. Recognising that my boyfriend and I might not feel the same way about each other in one, five or ten years’ time doesn’t reduce the relationship’s value to silver or bronze. We hope to share a lifetime together, but are not certain. That is natural. That is healthy. That is my way. 

Australians, Pizza and Eternal Families

As I write this, an aunt, uncle and two cousins of mine are visiting the UK from Australia, where they emigrated to a number of years ago. A few days ago I got to catch them in Nottingham, along with some other family members, as they dot around the place, visiting family and doing all the touristy things they can cram into their holiday. It was kind of surprising to me how seamless the meeting was. I guess social media has allowed people to stay in touch, and thus familiarity was relatively easy to achieve despite the fact these cousins were, to all intents and purposes, strangers to me. To some degree, I guess simply having the family connection melts away a lot of awkwardness, particularly when you are grouped together (and eating copious amounts of pizza)

Not terribly long before that I visited my parents for a few days, and the rest of my siblings managed to coordinate visiting home too. My mum has an empty nest now that my younger sister is at university, and so she was very happy to have us all together again, even for a short time (or rather, because it was for a short time?). It was also great fun to gather as siblings, and play the Wii and generally bond in a way we don’t often get the opportunity to now that we are scattered from the parental nest. 

Reflecting on these occasions, I couldn’t help but ponder a bit about the Mormon teaching of eternal family. Many people, for various reasons, are strongly against the idea of spending eternity with family. I am incredibly fortunate to have a pretty awesome family, so the concept of getting to spend more time with them after death is an appealing one, even if I don’t believe in the afterlife. But the sticking point for me is the ‘forever’ part of together forever.

A number of friends of mine have said they like the idea of immortality, though in the more sci-fi context of uploaded intelligence rather than as a spirit. And I find myself with the same sticking point. It would be nice to see how things develop, particularly in science and technology, and I’m sure it would be rewarding to continue to learn, laugh and love. But surely, there would come a point where the things that excite and fulfil me would become mundane. I end up returning to the concept of value – the most fulfilling aspects of living tend to be, in my mind, linked to the fact they are finite. Much like the value placed on gold because there is only so much of it to go around, many of life’s experiences have value, to me, because I know the opportunities to have them are limited.

So when I am laughing on my parents’ king sized bed, united with siblings whilst playing the Wii, one reason it is a moment to cherish for me is that there is no afterlife in which we can catch up. This life is the only opportunity I have to share moments like that. There will not be billions of years ahead of us to interact until we are inevitably bored by each others’ presence. So when people ask me whether I miss the idea of eternal families, I will admit to wondering at times, whilst sharing pizza with Australian relatives, whether it would be all that terrible. But then in my mind, immortality comes at the cost of eventually coming to be bored by everything you loved. I think the late Christopher Hitchens put it well. Noone likes the idea of being tapped on the shoulder at an enjoyable party and being told you have to leave as the party continues. But even worse is the idea of being tapped on the shoulder and being told you can never leave.

There will be times in my life when family members leave, and inevitably a time when I leave them. This is a sadness I do not look forward to, even though in the latter case I will not be there. But I have memories, and future experiences to look forward to. And the reason I look back with fondness, and forward with glad anticipation, is in no small way because there’s only so many of them to go around.

Testimonies I Wish I’d Given

Like a number of people I know, there was a fairly long period where I had stopped believing in the Mormon church but continued to attend. During that time there were a few occasions where I just held my tongue rather than respond to people saying nasty or silly things. I’m not sure whether, if I could go back in time, I would have bothered to do anything differently. In my mind, knocking down people’s views in an establishment meant for those who share them seems like something of a grey area. Should I have interrupted priesthood lessons to explain to people why evolution is true? Should I have tried to pursuade a close friend not to go on a two year stint as a missionary? Would it have been more principled to stand up to the vile words about other people in society (thankfully, a pretty rare occurance anyway)?

Sadly enough, this is something I still reflect on even though my involvment with the church has been over for years. Even sadder, I sometimes fantasise about taking the stand in a testimony meeting, and letting loose a biting/angry/witty tirade, which would doubtlessly produce nothing but embarassment for all involved. I’m never even likely to skirt close to the opportunity of doing so, but for some reason the fantasy is still a therapeutic one. I thought I would share an example of the inner monologue I run through when the mood takes me.

Dear Brothers and Sisters

You know, I used to be a skeptical kind of guy. I saw the explanatory power of science, the ability for it to elevate our standard of living and explain the things around us, and I thought, what need do I have for God? But listening to the lessons you have taught me, and hearing your testimonies about God’s intervention in your lives… it’s been a revelation. Who’d have thought that, in spite of seeming not to give a care about the countless deaths of starving children around the world, the creator of our universe took the time to make sure that the money you were due for some job you did made it to you in time to meet your bills? Who’d have thought that, in spite of the rape, mutilation and maltreatment of girls and women in underpriveleged societies, God cares enough about each of us personally that he made sure you passed that important exam (clearly that can’t be a mere product of the effort or time that you put into your studies)? Who’d have thought that, in spite of those millions who die of easily treatable diseases around the world, God saw fit to intervene and made sure that the cold your kid was suffering went away, and after a few days no less?

Yes, brothers and sisters, I have seen the light. Forget about the mountains of scientific evidence that render your worldviews implausable. Forget any sense of incredulity that a 14/16/17 year old boy was the first to be really sincere about knowing the truth about God since the death of Jesus, despite the centuries of scrambling by seemingly rather interested theologians. Forget the fact that Mormonism’s origins are sufficiently near in our history to be able to see the flaws and deceptions that pollute its claim of divinity.

After all, who needs reason when you can have faith?

In the name of jewish carpenters, amen.

Science vs. Mormonism Part 2 – falsifiability

When I was coming out as a non-believer, I actually wrote a letter to my Bishop outlining some of my concerns, and one part in particular strikes me as an appropriate theme to highlight the differences between science and religious belief. Namely, the notion of falsifiability – being able to conceive of a set of circumstances that would prove a belief or hypothesis to be untrue.

One of the favourite examples for exploring this idea is the “invisible pink unicorn” theory, which is as simple as it sounds. If I were to assert there was an invisible pink unicorn in the room, and leave it up to you to disprove the notion, with a few additions to the theory I could put it beyond your ability to falsify. Of course, you can’t see it because it is invisible. Maybe I forgot to mention that you can walk straight through it without feeling anything either. It doesn’t smell or taste of anything, and only believers can hear its delightful neighing. There is no sensor or machine sensitive enough to detect its existence. I have left you with no means to disprove the existence of the pink unicorn – the theory of its existence is unfalsifiable. But that says nothing about the probability of it being true as it prevents any possible evidence from emerging.

Science holds falsifiability to be a key aspect of any accepted theory. That is, though we may have good evidence that a theory is true, it is also possible to imagine the evidence or test that could come up to prove it wrong. By applying these tests, we can determine that a theory is wrong, or conversely, the tests may show what we would expect if the theory were true. For example, the theory of evolution is a theory supported by a wealth of evidence. However, we can also imagine evidence that would prove evolution wrong – one classic example being finding fossilised rabbits in Precambrian rock. This would mean that highly evolved animals were around long before we thought, and would not have had sufficient time to evolve by the mechanisms proposed by evolution. This is but one example of how evolution can be tested. Every time a test has been performed and turns out to produce evidence to support the theory of evolution rather than to falsify it, the probability of evolution being true increases.

There are many people who claim to have personal evidence that god intervenes in their lives, but in the letter to my old Bishop, I outlined my belief that many people turn an intervening god into an unfalsifiable hypothesis:

“You have bid me to take comfort in the wise words of those who have attempted to tackle the issue of why good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people – in essence the problems of pain and suffering in the world of a loving God. However, I cannot help but view the insights into that topic as the biggest demonstration of how confirmation bias allows us to make miracles out of random, frantic action. If I do good deeds and reap well, God is rewarding me for my efforts – my thanks go to God. If I do good deeds and reap poorly, God is testing me for my own good – my thanks go to God.  If I do evil deeds and reap poorly, God is pointing out the error of my ways – my thanks go to God. If I do evil deeds and reap well, God is being merciful despite my sinning – my thanks go to God. It is this ability to preserve belief in the face of all possible events that confounds an admonition to treat God as an experimental hypothesis. If one wishes to believe, the facts that could falsify belief will become secondary to that wish to believe such that belief will be preserved. I do not find such a method to be in keeping with the pursuit of truth”

And I still don’t…

On being the gay in the family…

As I alluded to earlier, my sexuality was at least partly a factor in my departure from Mormonism. I actually came out as an atheist about a year before I came out as gay. I suppose you could say I was warming up to the hard part.

I actually have an uncle who left the church shortly after completing his two year stint as a missionary in London, and so the trail was already blazed and I had some expectation as to how family would react – this uncle is treated no differently for not being a member of the church and is as welcome at family events, religious or otherwise, as anyone else. Surely enough, when the time came that I made my disbelief clear, it was something of a non-event. I was even living at home at the time. Bizarrely, I continued attending church – such was a rule of the house and so I decided to respect that as to minimise boat rocking. But as soon as I left home for University, Mormonism was dropped like a stone.

To spoil the ending, my coming out was a similar non-event for the most part. Pretty much all my family seemed to toe the line of “we disapprove of the gay, but still love you”. I had waited until I was independent of my parents before making this announcement specifically because I feared I may never be welcome at home again, but thus far I have had no issues. That is, except for Dad.

All credit to the man, to my face he is amicable and polite, but I know from my Mum that underneath this is a rather intolerant undercurrent. I know my Mum had to talk him down from his initial reaction that I was never to step foot into their house again. I guess this puts me in two minds. The fact that he is making what must be a painful effort to be nice while I am there is something I give him credit for, but the fact he still holds the vile opinions that caused a great deal of anguish to me when I was coming to terms with my sexuality does still upset me. It makes me wonder how much my sexuality becomes the elephant in the room when I visit home, never mentioned but always having an overbearing presence. I was kind of hoping progress was being made, thinking maybe one day I will be able to introduce him to the man I have come to love. But recent anecdotes suggest otherwise.

And that’s the most painful part. I’m happy and in a relationship. Most of my siblings and my Mum have met the man. I’m glad I can share the joy with some. But I wonder, how many aunts and uncles, whilst polite in person, would rather me not be there when the family gathers? How many would simply feel too awkward if I wanted to make my partner a part of the wider family? How many are teaching their sons and daughters that what I am is not ok?

I’m big enough to accept they are entitled to whatever beliefs they wish to hold, and maybe with the exception of my Dad, visions of some unwelcome undercurrents are unfounded. But the feeling of having cracks in a family unit that means the world to me, which may only deepen with time, is not a welcome one.

Science vs Mormonism round one – explanatory power

When I look back on the factors that first caused me to move away from Mormonism, it can be a bit difficult to figure out which was the most powerful wake up call. Mormonism does have an absurdly quirky and shady history, which certainly was a major factor in my disillusionment. However, that was also one of the easiest things to try and reconcile. All religions tend to have their bad episodes and daft characters, and when you grow up being taught a rather rose-tinted view of Mormon history, it is surprisingly easy to put aside misgivings and accept it as a whole. Being gay also drove something of a wedge, but at the same time I had lost all faith in the credibility of the church long before I really accepted my sexuality. Rather, I think science is to blame for the first cracks in my childhood faith, and remains one of the strongest factors involved in my continued rejection of Mormonism, and indeed all religion.

Now, there are plenty of scientific inconsistencies in the Mormon story – massive wars and cities, advanced technologies and unexpected animals present all without a shred of evidence. No record of the “reformed Egyptian” language. Indeed, the idea of an ancient Jewish presence in America is so out of place, the mitochondrial DNA of their long-supposed descendants hasn’t quite had time to catch up. All of these certainly added to my incredulity, but to me there is a more powerful principle behind why I favour science over religious teaching: explanatory power.

I’m a student of Biology, hoping to go into a research career and thus science my way to the very end of my existence. It’s a love affair that has been alive since childhood, and I think the root cause of my obsession with it is that it has the power to explain millions of things. I can see billions of years into our evolutionary history, explain why you can’t catch the same strain of flu twice and begin to understand how each of us arose as a massively complex organism from a single fertilised egg. And these are no mere empty explanations – each fact is established and supported by experimental evidence that continues to face scrutiny and peer review.

In contrast, religious explanations tend to fall into either of two categories. Firstly, mythology which is largely unsupported by or contrary to any good evidence we possess. These are just-so stories to be accepted at face value because the source that they come from is holy and not to be questioned. I do not value the stubborn acceptance of an idea contrary to established evidence to be a valid route to the truth.

Secondly comes the category I like to call explanatory outsourcing, where the explanation of a phenomenon is deemed to be some mysterious purpose outside of human understanding. The most simple example of this is the problem of evil. We live in a world where horrifically bad things happen to innocent people. Granted, the scientific explanation of this seems a little blunt – people are capable of doing horrible things to each other, and we live on a planet with often extreme and unpredictable climatic and seismic events. These forces are rather blind to the moral status of those who fall victim. Religion instead outsources the explanation with contorted explanations of why a loving god stands aside for the greater good, or to allow us free agency, whilst diseases, famines and earthquakes run their course. Of course, the reason is way over the head of our mere mortal understanding, but god is running the show and everything will be alright in the end. Believe that if you will, but give the idea some close examination. Instead of actually explaining a troubling phenomenon, you have merely outsourced the explanation to some divine plan which is itself without explanation. Why does god need millions of African children to die of disease and malnutrition? It might make you feel better to think that afterwards they are swept into heaven for an eternity of peace, but all you have done is mentally compensated for the present evil, not explained the need for it to exist. Do millions of African babies have to die for us to practice the virtues of gratitude and charity? If so, for what reason do we need these lessons, and in such a grotesque form? Training for godhood? It seems to me that this route of explanation is an infinite regress into absurdity.

The scientific explanation may seem cold, but it is consistent and self-contained. Religious explanations only seem to work if one doesn’t think too hard about them.