HumanistLife

Archives for September 2015

My eye-opening Humanist Weekend

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Young Humanists graphic designer Kathleen van Geete reflects on a spirited weekend of humanist discussion and debate in the Netherlands.

UK delegates to the IHEYO Humanist Weekend arrive in the Netherlands

UK delegates to the IHEYO Humanist Weekend arrive in the Netherlands

In early August, I was lucky to be one of several humanists despatched to the outskirts of Eindhoven in the Netherlands to represent the Young Humanists, the 18-35s section of the British Humanist Association, at a special Humanist Weekend event organised for young people like us from around the world. It was organised by the International Humanist and Ethical Youth Organisation (IHEYO), the youth wing of the the International Humanist and Ethical Union, and its purpose was straightforward: to get to know each other better and discuss our role in the humanist movement.

Before we left for the reclusive Dutch woodlands, each of us had the chore of trying to convince our friends, families, and colleagues that we were not embarking on an initiation escapade to some remote cult gathering. In fact, our weekend was quite the opposite. Once we arrived at De Kievit, our lodge for the duration of our trip, and met up with humanists from other parts of the world, it was obvious that our discussions and activities would keep well away from all things spiritual, fanciful, and superficial.

It all started with a challenge. The weekend’s organiser, Dutch humanist Lenart Kolenberg, presented our theme for the weekend: to consider the Amsterdam Declaration of 1952 – the first international statement of its kind, setting out the values and principles of contemporary Humanism – and to consider what, if anything, we would add to it. This was a daunting question, but the weekend’s lectures and discussions would all serve this theme, we were assured. And then Lennart asked us something else, with something of a grin on his face. He wanted to know whether we as young humanists – ranging in age from older teenagers through to young adults, all at different stages in our lives – considered it our job to ‘save the world’.

We had the pleasure of hearing from five enthusiastic speakers. Kicking all our hangovers out the door first thing on Saturday morning was Leon Korteweg, who drilled down into the subject of ‘Wikipedia activism’. His work, through Guerrilla Skepticism, aims to provide accurate and well-cited information about Humanism and related topics to Wikipedia pages. Due to Wikipedia’s status as sixth most popular website in the world’ , Leon’s group aims to ensure that all information about humanist and skeptic topics on the online encyclopaedia are accurate and, importantly, verifiable, in as many languages as possible. A secondary aim for the group is to ensure that new pages about notable humanist and non-religious topics are added to the encyclopaedia where necessary, to promote public awareness of these topics.

In a later talk, the BHA’s Campaigns Manager, Richy Thompson, joined with IHEU Director of Communications Bob Churchill to offer some insights into the work of both organisations over the past 12 months and their lives own as ‘professional humanists’. Richy spoke about the BHA’s campaigns on various secularist and public ethical issues in the last month, such as its campaign for a compassionate assisted dying law, to promote understanding of Humanism through schools, and to raise awareness of issues around the state funding of religious schools and quack medicine such as homeopathy.

Bob spoke about IHEU’s development into a formidable international humanist society in its own right, engaged in international lobbying through organisations like the UN and the Council of Europe, as well as through in-depth research like the annual Freedom of Thought Report. Guests at the Humanist Weekend also learned about the pivotal role IHEU played in supporting Bangladeshi humanists and atheists under threat from religious extremists. Just a day previous, the Bangladeshi blogger Niloy Neel had been brutally killed in his own home. Niloy was one of 84 humanist writers marked for death in a prominent ‘hit list’ circulated among Islamic extremists in Bangladesh. IHEU helped to coordinate activists on the ground in Bangladesh and, working with international groups like the BHA, break the story about Niloy’s horrible murder. It offers similar support, in many cases directly to individuals under threat, in places like Malaysia and Egypt as well.

One delegate asked Bob how we, as young people, could help to support the humanist cause, particularly around complex international issues like these. Bob’s advice was enlightening. In his role at IHEU, Bob has had a hand in the formation and development of a number of humanist societies, including successful national humanist groups in Africa. His reasoning was simple: focus on effectively managing your own small local groups. Religious extremists, out to do harm, tend to form incredibly well-networked and professional groups. Even slick terrorist organisations like the Islamic State began as small hives of well-trained, dedicated activists. Humanists need to provide an opposite force to these evils. Even small voluntary tasks for larger organisations in your area can assist the cause dramatically, Bob explained. While some campaigns will not necessarily need voluntary assistance in the beginning, they can grow rapidly and come to rely on the work of volunteers. He gave as an example of this, the End Blasphemy Laws campaign, launched earlier this year shortly after the Charlie Hebdo killings, which has already helped to stimulate repeals in two European countries, and the Freedom of Thought Report, which has become an increasingly effective diplomatic tool and which is assembled with the help of dozens of international volunteers.

Active socialising, shall we say, on Saturday night led to a rough start on Sunday for everyone, but our speaker, David Althaus, roused us with a stirring talk on ‘Effective Altruism’. He asked his audience to consider how best it could give money to help the most people and make the biggest impact, which to me seemed to figure with Lennart’s original question of us on the Friday: what more can humanists stand for? What can we do to ‘save the world’? The topic was controversial, raising a number of questions about assumptions of effectiveness. As a group, we were forced to ask ourselves: which charities did we feel were the most active and beneficial to society? Could these be ranked, as many are by effective altruist groups like Giving What We Can? The audience was divided, but it seemed like our hunger for solving ethical issues and being a force for good in society had been stoked.

Our final speaker Hannah Blok initiated a careful discussion about technology, particularly in the context of dangers to our human rights: breaches of security, Internet surveillance, and the increasing commoditisation of personal data. Her advice to us, as activists working in different groups all over Europe, was to consider our procedures and data management activities carefully. Hannah described herself as suspicious and meticulous, and seemed to encourage us to be the same. It seemed we were agreed, as a group, on the subject of privacy. Privacy was paramount. Our members and activists were precious to us, and to the goals we hoped to achieve. We had to set ourselves a high challenge: to approach, with open arms, the potential uses of new technology to grow our organisations and expand our footprint, while being mindful of the human beings whose lives are described in the data this technology will gather over time.

I found the whole experience electrifying. I spent the weekend surrounded by people whose goals and interests were similar to my own, but who were all thoroughly individual, unique, and even challenging. We discussed everything. We inhaled subjects like marriage law, and its variances from state to state. We probed national politics and international issues and learned from each other’s experiences of both. Invariably, things on our mind came up a lot. Children, and child-raising. Our local groups’ activities. Our campaigns, and how our emphases on these seemed to vary from country to country. Penal reform, education. But there was real human connection, too. There was the sheer joy learning about how people’s ways of living and thinking could be so similar, and yet so different, throughout Europe. Most of us walked away not just with a wealth of knowledge which we could take to our own organisations, and to humanist campaigning, but a deeper and richer understanding of what makes us so similar, so different, and what unites us as humanists.

Bob and Richy had said something in their session which struck me, and it went through my head again as we left De Kieveit. They said how their careers in Humanism had much less to do with arguing against religion than questioning, and improving, the cultural and political frameworks to which their lives were anchored. Humanism was not a response to anything. It was – and had to be – a mission statement, a challenge, a call for a better way of living and running our societies.

It was then I realised that this what Lennart had been getting at, when he first sat us down with our copies of the Amsterdam Declaration. Why bother to make a ‘declaration’ anyway, I suspect many of us wondered. But it had become clear to me, over wine and long discussions, over fireside chats and the smell of forest pine: Humanism was a movement of people concerned with the betterment of our world. Not with creed or class, or race or religion, or any of these distractions, but a society built on solid ethical principles like respect for individual dignity and recognition of our place in a human community. It was about seeing the world for what it is, and acknowledging that while our lives are temporary, our world will outlast us.

All in all, I’m extremely grateful to everyone who organised the conference, which filled me with so much zeal to give more to the movement (and more of my time to Young Humanists in the UK!)

But enough from me. Here some wordss from other Young Humanist delegates sent to Eindhoven:

The Humanist Weekend in Esbeek was a great chance to meet new and interesting people. I had never been to an event like this, and didn’t know anyone prior to boarding my plane, so I was suitably anxious. However, the humanist youths from all over Europe made me feel welcome, and I felt I could initiate a conversation with any of them. This trip has inspired me to give more of my time to the Young Humanists in the UK, and has also helped me realise how successful humanism can be in a society, like the Netherlands. Although I managed to get stung on the lip by one of the many wasps, there were many great discussions and conversations between everyone, and I enjoyed every minute of it!
Dan Forder

Firstly I’d like to say thanks to the organisers, Remmelt, Jorg, Els,Lennart and anyone else at the forefront. Thanks to everyone else including the people in the background, the speakers and of course to all the attendees who made it a great weekend by simply being typically humanist. Talks, intellectual (and sometimes not so intellectual) discussions, good weather, games, alcohol and nice people, how could a weekend get any better?! A couple of my favourite talks over the weekend were by Leon Korteweg about Guerrilla Skeptics and learning more about the work IHEU and the BHA do from the talk by Bob Churchill and Richy Thompson. Since I’ve got back my Facebook friend total has increased and my knowledge of humanist groups and endevours has widened. Definitely something I’d like to do again next year!
James Fogg

It was fantastic not only to be part of the weekend, but, for the first time ever, to be part of a delegation of 18-35s representing the newly formed Young Humanists UK. We all thoroughly enjoyed being part of a bigger conversation, and look forward to playing our part in the worldwide humanist project. If you want to be part of the next delegation, get in touch.
Alice Fuller

To defeat Islamism, we must show that its narratives are false

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Jacob Kishere looks at the narratives of oppression exploited by Islamists to portray an intense clash of civilisations.

Hate preacher Anjem Choudary. Photo credit: Dan H/Flickr

Hate preacher Anjem Choudary. Photo credit: Dan H/Flickr

There has been rightful jubilation amongst Britons, Muslim and non-Muslim alike, at the arrest of Anjem Choudary after years of hate-baiting. As well as others, Choudary has been pictured with Michael Adebolajo, who along with Michael Adebowale was responsible for the brutal killing of Fusillier Lee Rigby in 2013.

However, Choudary, like many others, operated perfectly legitimately within the bounds of the law for many years before any sufficient evidence could be found to bring a prosecution under the Terrorism Act 2000. In the past decade it has become clear that what is needed to combat ‘radicalisation’ is not a solely top-down government response through departmental programs, but a comprehensive ‘civil society strategy’. A change in tact, which the Prime Minister recognised in his recent speech held in Birmingham on counter-extremism. Advocating a civil society response is distinct from rejecting all government action as being authoritarian in the way many so called ‘Muslim community’ advocacy groups have claimed in the past. Instead, it means government and society working in tandem. The facets of the civil society response have been covered extensively and debated in the press, in particular due to the recognition within political discourse of ideology as a driver of radicalisation thanks to organisations like Quilliam.

Having said that, despite this significant step of identifying the importance of Islamist ideologies in radicalisation, very little analysis has been given to what the ideology of Islamism actually consists of. This is the greatest shortcoming of the current discourse, not that we point to ideology, but that those activists, teachers and students best placed to challenge it in a robust ‘civil society response’ do not have the understanding or the tools to do so.

Manifesting what Quilliam has been calling for, the early seeds of a small but burgeoning ‘counter-extremism’ movement can be seen in the activism of Atheist, Humanist, and Secular student societies and increasingly from ex-Muslim groups. In addition to this, ‘Quilliam Societies’, which operate independently from the thinktank while sharing its philosophy, have been launched at universities across the UK by student activists to promote human rights and civil liberties. Crucial to these activists will be the ability to counter Islamist as well as far-right narratives that may be presented at campuses. Part of this will involve the ability to recognise the recurring themes, arguments and logical inconsistencies that they may present so that they can be forthright in their rebuttal. The public face of Islamism in the media, soft Islamism[i] as I will refer to it, often carries a veneer of intellectual integrity which presents arguments in favour of cohesion.

Firstly, historical narratives are frequent and consistent amongst speakers from organisations which are frequently invited onto campuses across the UK. Here a highly simplistic vision is painted which creates an ‘Islam and the West’ dichotomy. It argues that the Islamic world under a caliphate was ‘the height of civilisation’, citing how Islamic scholars preserved the works of Plato and Aristotle and are therefore responsible for the Enlightenment and the industrial revolution. The decline of the Arab Enlightenment is blamed on Western colonialism, in a narrative that runs as follows: After hundreds of years of Islamic history, the Ottoman Caliphate of the early 20th century is dismantled by Western colonial powers, who were and remain diametrically opposed both to a caliphate and the exercise of political agency in the Islamic world. Symptomatic of most ideological paradises, the Islamic world is presented as having been essentially preserved in a time capsule of prosperity prior to Western intervention. Additionally, predominantly Sunni speakers and writers envision an entirely homogenous Middle East, free of nationalism or dissent. This of course ignores the presence of Shi’ites, Yazidis, as well as all other diversity in scholarly opinion, language, race, and culture in the Middle East prior to 1918.

Secondly, drawing heavily on anti-imperialist schools of thought and thinkers like Edward Said, most engagement with the topic of foreign policy through Islamism centres on neo-colonialism. 21st century doctrines of neo-conservatism and liberal interventionism present ideal evidence for neo-colonialism here. The interventions in Iraq and Afghanistan can thereby be seen in the prism of a one hundred year strategy by Western powers to undermine and ‘hold on’ the Middle East. This broad stroke characterisation of a century of foreign policy is especially difficult to counter since the majority of Britons in hindsight either oppose or hold substantial reservations about these interventions. It is perfectly possible to both oppose such interventions while also actively rejecting conspiracy theories. Islamism effectively blames ‘the West’ entirely, proposing that in the absence of Western involvement, ‘proper’ Islamic jurisprudence would bring about the perfect and just solution to all of the problems ailing the ‘Islamic world’. In dispensing with all responsibility of the Islamic world, today that old political cliché ‘this has nothing to do with Islam’ appears frequently, denying that any aspects of Islamic theology are in any way responsible at least in part for the actions of some.

Lastly, in order for Islamism to unify British Muslims behind its cause it must draw and exaggerate a dichotomy between Muslims and non-Muslims. As mentioned previously, this narrative serves to paint all Muslims as part of a unified block without dissent or diversity and equally the non-Muslim west – the kuffar – as its homogenous polar opposite. Often, the most deceptive speakers will pay brief and regular lip service to a select few in the mainstream media to assure audiences that they are not being bigoted. However, this aside fails to detract effectively from the pervasive narrative that there is an un-crossable chasm of difference between British Muslims and their fellow citizens. The reality of course is that there is a vast diversity of opinion in and between Western countries. Muslims in Western countries may well have far more in common with their non-Muslim countrymen than with other Muslims around the world. Islamic majority countries themselves host a spectrum of political and religious belief.

At this very moment the minds of young British students are being shaped by Islamist ideology, helping to create an environment which undermines social cohesion. Though we as a society cannot all afford to become scholars of Islamism, we equally cannot afford to remain ignorant of it. A wider basic understanding of the characteristics of this ideology will be the most effective way to create the kind of ‘robust democratic response’ that is needed to challenge such authoritarian beliefs.

Jacob Kishere is a humanist and a student of history. He blogs on Medium at @JacobKishere.

[i] Soft Islamism: refers to the ideology presented to the wider public by prominent Islamists. It does not explicitly call for a Caliphate or any imposition over society as in core tenets of organisations, such as Hizb ut-Tahrir. It instead uses obfuscation and suggestion to create an ideological basis for ‘purer’ forms of Islamism. An example of this is constant reference to the ‘Islamic Golden Age’, with the tangential inference being that a modern day caliphate, would re-create this constructed paradise.

 

The case for critical thinking in schools

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Samuel Fawcett argues for instilling a healthy degree of scepticism in our young people.

Society is made in the classroom. Teaching young people how to think critically is essential to an open, progressive society. Photo: Ilmicrofono Oggiono

Society is made in the classroom. Teaching young people how to think critically is essential to an open, progressive society. Photo: Ilmicrofono Oggiono.

The United Kingdom is a credulous nation. Polling carried out by Ipsos Mori in 2013 showed that the general public are wrong about almost everything. From welfare, to crime, to immigration, public perceptions are a long way from the actual facts. It would seem that people are similarly susceptible to pseudoscience. YouGov polling shows that 39% of Britons believe that homeopathy is an effective treatment for illness and 20% that star signs ‘can tell you something about yourself or another person’.

So why are we so wrong about stuff? The reasons are manifold, and there is no simple remedy. Obviously the media plays a large role in shaping our perceptions about popular issues. It is no coincidence that the levels of immigration are believed to be higher than they are and the migrants themselves perceived to be morally degenerate when two out of three of the nation’s most-read papers push vehemently anti-immigrant rhetoric. However, to a certain extent these publications are simply catering to pre-existing prejudices, knowing that by doing so they will increase sales. When it comes to pseudoscience, many people are distrustful of large organisations, seeing them as removed, malicious and esoteric. Hence people are more likely to trust a friend offering them homeopathic pills than they are ‘big pharma’.

This disjunction between perception and reality is a key area in which Humanism can play a big role. At the heart of our movement is the desire for humans to live rational and harmonious lives. Obviously we do not seek to force everyone into a life of rigid, sceptical thinking – ‘we cannot live by reason alone’ as Sam Harris said. It is of no particular consequence to us if someone gets comfort from believing their deceased partner is watching over them or their horoscope will improve their sex life. But there is quite clearly an issue when lack of inquiry leads to the bigotry and spite which saw 50% of people agree with Nigel Farage’s view that immigrants suffering from AIDS should be denied NHS treatment for five years.

So what can we do about it? Obviously no one is going to shut down the Sun or the Daily Mail, and, much as it would save me a considerable number of blood vessels, it would be wrong to do so. Likewise, we cannot simply change fundamentals of human psychology. However, I believe that we can change people’s views without doing the impossible or betraying Enlightenment values of freedom of expression. To do so, we need to give people the tools to analyse, dissect and discuss from a young age.

Earlier this year I was talking with one of my French lecturers about what he thought of teaching in the UK. Instantly he replied that he hated it, and that he felt as though he were an activity leader rather than a tutor. He complained that we are not taught to think, but simply to regurgitate. A strong criticism, but one which I believe is grounded. In my own academic experience, I was never encouraged to question until university. Indeed, questioning was in effect discouraged at secondary school.  Even in A-Level Law, my class was told to learn the essay answer to the question on Law and Morality ‘almost off by heart’ and repeat it in the exam in our own words. I do not think it is obtuse to ask that Law students be asked to seriously consider the moral implications of law-making rather than what the AQA exam board believe will score you the most marks.

This lack of inquiry needs to be remedied by schools and colleges internalising critical thinking skills as a key part of their teaching. Some would say that this would be too dull and complex for students to take on, but I do not believe that is true at all. The ‘naïve young idealist’ stereotype exists for a reason, being that younger people tend to be far more sceptical than their elders, and are more than happy to question authority. Why don’t we utilise their healthy scepticism?

An obvious first step is replacing Religious Education with the broader ‘Philosophy and Ethics’ specification which OCR have been trialling. This subject would still teach about the world’s religions, but would also include the basics of philosophy. It would be a perfect course to bring in the ideas of bias, argument and evidence. But we must not be content with simply adding a topic to the curriculum. All academic subjects should be taught with an eye on why we know the facts that we do or how we can analyse the ideas put forward; from looking at the power of language used by politicians and the media in English lessons, to how science must be its own fiercest critic if it is to be useful.

Correctly done, such an approach does have the potential to change how people think. Studies in France have shown that there is no correlation between people’s belief in pseudoscience and their level of scientific education. However, they did find that when people were taught the method behind science rather than just the facts, their acceptance of pseudoscientific beliefs fell sharply.

It is pivotal that our students come out of education with a critical mind that can take things at more than face value. Humanists desire a society where people treat each other respecting their worth as individuals rather than seeing them as hate groups that have been homogenised by misconceptions and unfair portrayals. Likewise, we do not wish to see people beholden to superstitious or fundamentalist ideas that can be damaging both physically and psychologically. Making our education system one that teaches scepticism rather than credence would not make this society a reality, but it would go some way to creating it.

Samuel Fawcett is the Deputy Editor of Anticipations, the magazine of the Young Fabians. He tweets at @SamFawcett92.