Religious folk have it easy (minus that whole eternity of nightmarish torment for kissing the wrong person thing). See, they get to live in a world of black and white, good and evil, right and wrong, yes and no, heaven and hell, The Beatles and Celine Dion. They get to state absolute certainties regardless of their inability to back them up because they have “faith.” And it’s really quite an enviable position, as it doesn’t require much in the way of intellectual leg work*. Debates can pretty much start and end with “this is just how it is,” and anything they add as to why or how is icing on the cake and optional (not to mention easily changed on the fly if the person they’re arguing against calls them on it). They know what they know, and usually can’t be swayed, which makes them look pretty darn strong to an unbiased and inexperienced onlooker.

This difference puts those of us who invest in science, reason, and honest self-examination at a bit of a disadvantage. When we’re explaining our position on a subject to a third party, assuming we play by our own rules, we must readily and honestly admit when we DON’T know something or can’t be 100% certain. While there’s much we’re clear on, there are many topics that aren’t cut and dry, or that we can’t prove/disprove beyond all shadow of a doubt. But those who subscribe to religious beliefs can claim with absolute certainty anything they feel, and when someone’s looking for an answer, especially in a moment of weakness, self-doubt, grief, loss, fear, pain, etc., certainty sure is nice to have.

This comes up quite heavily on the issue of God (we’ll simply go with the Judeo-Christian one for simplicity here, but this applies equally to all other deities and spiritual forces and such), and especially the matter of his existence or lack thereof. See, while religious folk are quite happy to stick with a firm, hard, unwavering “yes, He definitely exists,” those of us with a more scientific angle can only stick to much more wishy-washy answers such as, “we have no evidence he exists,” “his existence is highly improbable,” “while I can’t rule out the possibility entirely, I’m not convinced,” etc. As I remember hearing someone point out recently (wish I remember who so I could credit them), a true scientist if asked whether the sun would rise again tomorrow would say, after pointing out the inaccuracy of the phrase, that all he or she can state is that all observable evidence suggests so. We simply cannot guarantee that a cosmic disaster won’t take place before that moment, or that some reality-altering shift in the universe won’t change all that we know. We’re pretty frickin’ damn sure it’s going to “rise” again tomorrow, as it has every day throughout recorded history, and well before that as we can extrapolate from the preponderance of evidence, and we see no sign of impending doom in any of the vast fields of research in which such an event could be foreseen, but committing 100% is foolish when looking at something scientifically. The unknown must always be accounted for. So the same has to apply to this question of God’s existence, no matter how sure we are he doesn’t exist.

What I’ve noticed from this is that it often affects how a person portrays their philosophy on the subject, leading some to describe themselves as agnostic simply due to accepting this minute possibility that they’re wrong. Now this seems to me a very slim minority of those who are agnostic, with most somewhere between simply not caring and lacking the knowledge to make an informed decision. But some actively decide that it’s impossible to know for a fact or dishonest to state it as such, therefore they’re unwilling to come down on either side of the fence. And while I find this quality admirable, and befitting the attitude of the true rationalist, it just doesn’t work for me on a personal level.

See, I too accept the possibility that I could be wrong, simply because the claims are NOT falsifiable. If it can’t be disproven 100%, I can’t say I’m 100% sure it’s not true. So much like Richard Dawkins, I have to place myself as a 6 on the 7-point scale of hardcore believer to hardcore unbeliever, as stating definitively that there is no God is just as dishonest as stating there most definitely is. I can’t say it’s impossible, as the rules under which he fits are just wide enough that I’d be lying if I said I know I’m right. So then why am I an atheist and not an agnostic? Simple: are you an atackliotist, or are you agnostic to Tackliots? What? You don’t know what Tackliots are? You’ve never heard of them before? That’s because I just made them up, but shhh, don’t tell anyone. Let me fill you in on the background of the amazing being known as the Tackliot:

The Tackliot came into existence before the dawn of time. Now I know what you’re thinking: How can something come BEFORE time? The answer, of course, is shut up. Now the Tackliot was simultaneously everything and nothing. That Tackliot was not only the entire universe, despite the fact that it didn’t yet exist (buh- buh… that’s better), but it also wasn’t the universe. Not even slightly. I’m blowing your mind, right? No? Read it again and then answer that. Not even a little? Try again, but squint this time. Now? Tiny headaches count as a sort of blown mind… Okay, sweet. Anyway, the Tackliot got bored with complete lack of time and a universe, and decided to make one. Since the Tackliot was everything and nothing, it was a simple task to instantly create every possible combination of designs for the universe at once, and then pick its favorites to keep. The Tackliot then absorbed the rest back into itself, and left the remaining universes intact. This meant the Tackliot was no longer everything as some universes now existed outside of itself. Thankfully it couldn’t cease to be nothing, so was able to enjoy this small cold comfort. However the Tackliot soon found that the universes it had created were full of small flaws and holes, and its work was cut out for it patching and fixing all of these various issues, tweaking something here, mending something there, until it had managed to give all that remained of itself to the various universes it had created, once again managing to become everything, and also nothing (see how I tied all that together so masterfully? Yeah, I’m totally down for drinks…). Our universe is but one of the myriad of universes that make up the Tackliot, and we should remember every day the beauty and history of this being that put us here in the lives that we lead. Also, next time you masturbate, remember that the Tackliot is watching you from the air, the walls, the ceiling, the floor, that sock, and is also your hand and junk. Have fun!

Now I know what you’re thinking right now after reading that wacky paragraph: that is AWESOME! Right? No? Try reading it again, but put on 3D glasses this time. Mind-blowing headache, right? Anyway, point is, there’s a being who may or may not exist. Its legacy makes as little or as much sense as most other religious stories about the origin of the universe, and we can’t disprove beyond a shadow of a doubt that it doesn’t exist. Now before you read this, you had to have been an atackliotist because you had no belief that the Tackliot existed. Now that you know the possibility exists, it would arguably be dishonest to say it’s 100% impossible as the story really didn’t provide any falsifiable details.

Of course one thing the story of the Tackliot lacks that the religious stories have is a vast backlog of books, stories, hymns, etc., all backing up the story. It also lacks the thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions, or billions of fellow believers in the story. It lacks preachers, evangelists, and missionaries spreading the word of the Tackliot. So my story is at a pretty serious disadvantage, leaving it still pretty logical to be an atackliotist and not agnostic to his beauty, despite the inability to disprove the story. But what if Christianity didn’t have all of that? What if it lacked the books, the believers, the evangelists, etc.? Would it be any more convincing than my story? Well, without all of that vast wealth behind it, it really is just another story. No better, no worse than the rest. And just as unconvincing. But thankfully for it, it does have all that backing, right?

The thing is, though, for some of us Christianity DOES lack all of that. Because when I examine all of the materials used to prove the subject, I’m left thoroughly unconvinced, not to mention underwhelmed. I find the holy texts lacking all evidence, backing, logic, reasoning, structure, consistency, or believability. They seem to scream to me that they were written by primitive men who needed to explain the world around them based on the limited knowledge they had, while infusing it with stories and rules that backed up what was already important to them while condemning what their enemies held dear. So that, for me, cancels out the books, stories, hymns, etc. They might as well not exist for me.

But then what of the preachers, evangelists, missionaries, and believers? Surely I can’t discount all of them? But I can, because they exist only because of that now-forgotten evidence that left me so very, very unimpressed. They bought the stories that I didn’t. They believed the tales I saw as no different than the average fable. They accepted the stories of other believers who fell for the same poorly-written evidence that left me feeling unimpressed. And for this reason, they no longer exist in this equation. And what does that leave us with? Just another story. Just another story that had I not heard it before, just like you hadn’t heard the story of the Tackliot 10 minutes ago, I would never have even considered as an option in the way the universe works. I’d lack belief in it simply by virtue of the thought never having entered my head. And once I examine the evidence, discount it, and discount all of the surrounding noise that came from it, I have no remaining reason to treat it as anything more than just another story that in another universe I may never have even heard.

It’s for this reason that I, a rational-minded, free-thinking, skeptical, scientific person who must readily admit what he can’t know for certain, and who listens to evidence and changes his position when it becomes clear that it’s time to do so, still chooses to label himself as an atheist and not an agnostic. I was born an atheist, as is every other human being on this planet, and until I’m given something more than noise to consider, I’m going to remain one. Prove me wrong. Please. It’ll blow my mind (more than just giving me a headache), and open up this already incredible universe we live in even further. And contrary to popular belief, there are few things scientists love more than finding out what they believed was wrong and they have a whole new field to explore, complete with vast amounts of research grant dollars. As a mere science spectator (to borrow a term from Penn Jillette), I won’t benefit from the grant dollars, but I’ll be cheering on from the sidelines as we expand the world’s awareness that much further. Yeehaw!

*I need to clarify here that I very much am generalizing for the sake of dramatic effect. I know many religious people who would fit my description of being some of the most intelligent, thoughtful, insightful people I’ve ever known, and I’m lucky to have them and their brilliance in my life. But they’re the minority of what I see from those making religious arguments, especially on the Internet, and so I go after the low-hanging fruit. If you don’t fall into the traps I describe in this post, consider yourself not someone I’m describing.