The Pale Blue Dot

This image is one of the grandest ones ever taken. It has much history to it, shot as it was from The Voyager on February 14, 1990, even as the exploratory mission was being called off and ground control was ordering all cameras be shut down. This grainy image is one among the last it sent down to mission control at NASA. 

Planet Earth appears as an insignificant dot.

On staring at the image and much pondering over it later, Carl Sagan was struck by how significant the image actually is. He could see the beauty and philosophy embedded in the image as well. Not just that, this image offers much perspective on how utterly insignificance all that people live and fight for, are about. 

It was inevitable then, the scientist in Sagan attempt to communicate much of his thoughts in a book he wrote later called the The Pale Blue Dot.

“Look again at that dot. That's here. That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there -- on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life. There is nowhere else, at least in the near future, to which our species could migrate. Visit, yes. Settle, not yet. Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.

It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character-building experience. There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world. To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another, and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we've ever known.”  

While poring over these passages then, it was inevitable then mind veer around contemporary conversations of our times. Whose God is mightier? Whose nationalism is greater? Whose wealth is more?

Does it matter really? 

Why is it so difficult to comprehend us humans are not just frail creatures, but specks of dust in a cosmos we haven't even begun to comprehend? If that sounds implausible, there is a thought experiment Carl Sagan points to in the book. 

“Ann Druyan suggests an experiment: Look back again at the pale blue dot of the preceding chapter. Take a good long look at it. Stare at the dot for any length of time and then try to convince yourself that God created the whole Universe for one of the 10 million or so species of life that inhabit that speck of dust. Now take it a step further: Imagine that everything was made just for a single shade of that species, or gender, or ethnic or religious subdivision. If this doesn’t strike you as unlikely, pick another dot. Imagine it to be inhabited by a different form of intelligent life. They, too, cherish the notion of a God who has created everything for their benefit. How seriously do you take their claim?” 

Imagining humans as the masters of the universe or the faith they follow as the most superior then comes across as such an utterly absurd thought.

How can anybody possibly indulge themselves in it?

Letter to a religious nation

Dear Fellow Indians,

Allow me begin with a fervent plea. Abandon your religion and all your god men. They mean nothing and are the bedrocks on which falsehoods are perpetuated. I am an atheist. Allow me reiterate. I am not secular. I am an atheist. I believe all religions you participate in humbug. If I were secular, I’d be compelled to treat all religions on equal footing. But I don’t think it possible. 

This is because the nature of religion demands the so-called truth as revealed in each of its sacred texts is the truth alone. And that all other versions will not stand up to scrutiny. I think that a rather offensive and puerile assumption to make. To the contrary, I think versions of truth as offered by all religions comprise lies and damned lies. 

Why? Because as Sam Harris, a neuroscientist and best-selling author puts it so eloquently in his book Waking Up: "Nothing that a Christian, a Muslim and a Hindu can experience—self transcending love, ecstasy, bliss, inner light—constitutes evidence in support of their traditional beliefs, because their beliefs are logically incompatible with one another. A deeper principle must be at work."

It is tempting then to ask what is so incompatible between all of these faiths? The fact that all of them originated from different parts of the world is the first that strikes me—Christianity from the West, Islam from the Middle East and Hinduism along with its various sub sects from the East. The proselyting natures of Christianity, the intolerance of Islam and the laid back, albeit hydra headed inclusiveness of Hinduism that seeks to embrace proselytization and intolerance as part of the “brahman” or universe; for that matter as an avatar or incarnation of the divine is a case in point.

Then there is the conquest of happiness itself. Every form of organized religion promises happiness. It is pertinent then to ask what is happiness, as we understand it? To the laity, happiness lies in gratification of desire. It could be something as simple as access to good food, or having loved ones within an arm's reach. 

From a philosopher's prism though, the question on hand is, is it possible to happy before one's desires are granted, in spite of life’s difficulties, in the midst of old age, pain, disease and death?

Christianity and Islam promise it in the afterlife. Hinduism demands a life of asceticism to achieve moksha or liberation from the cycle of life and death until happiness can be discovered. 

To my mind, this is asking for too much. I refuse to suffer in the “now” that I may rejoice in the afterlife; or that I renounce all of my “now” that I may be liberated. Fact is, I think these terribly, terribly, stifling. But fact also remains, these are the foundations on which religion in pretty much every form is built on. 

Not just that, Harris argues. The word “religion” is an artifact of language. It is just but a generic term like sport is. To draw an analogy, some sports are peaceful, but extremely dangerous like rock climbing. Some are safer but violent like mixed martial arts. And some like bowling mean you do nothing more than stand in a place like you would in a shower. Therefore, to speak of all sport in the same breath is an impossible discussion to have. We need to understand the nuances of what each sport involves. It is much the same thing with religion. Given these differences, I find it impossible not to laugh at secular shams like inter-faith dialogues to promote harmony.

Into all of this, add the lives we take for granted. Hindus have the gall to believe everything was known of before anybody else in the world knew of it. But truth is, Hindu scriptures know nothing of the biology of cancer, vaccinations, the human genome or aviation. Contemporary medicine and aviation is the outcome of western scientific thought. I am first hand witness as well to the violence blood hungry Hindu hordes unleashed in the wake of the Babri Masjid demolition.

But this does not exonerate Christianity or Islam. How can we forgive the Catholic Church for the trial and conviction to life of Italian astronomer Galileo because he proved the earth revolves around the sun? Contemporary history has it that the brilliant mathematician Alan Turing was prosecuted for admitting to homosexual acts in early 1952. He was subjected to chemical castration through hormone injections until he eventually committed suicide. 

How can any leverage possibly be given to Islam either? It contains the likes of nuclear physicists like the Pakistani Samar Mubarak Mand who told an audience in Balochistan that when he organizing a nuclear test in 1998, he discovered Allah had put a miracle chicken into the pot. Even after 183 people had eaten from it, the pot was still full of chicken.  

On the face of such pig headed assertions, my submission to you is cast religion and secularism in all its forms away. It is riddled with holes and more holes can be punctured into all of what it stands for. That is why I am totally with Sam Harris again when he argues the world’s religions are mere intellectual ruins, maintained at enormous economic and social cost.

Instead, embrace atheism. This is a way of life that understands what you are looking for. Happiness. In the here and in the now. It is what people call a spiritual experience. Allow me add a word of caution here. Religion and spirituality are two different things.

The quickest way to experience spirituality is through a party drug Ecstasy. Pop one of it and what follows is a spiritual experience. You feel a certain oneness with the universe. You experience contentment. You begin to understand what it is to love without expecting anything in return. The line: “I love you because….” holds no meaning then. It morphs into “I love you”. No caveats attached.

I am not suggesting here you pop Ecstasy pills because all of us know of the disastrous consequences that follow. But atheism is a way of life that places a premium on compassion and love. It believes these are skills that can be taught and acquired minus the baggage that accompanies organized religion. That way you engage with life.

Allow me sign this note off with a passage from PM Forni’s The Thinking Life: “The more you value life, the more you engage with it. The more you engage with it, the more you think your way through it. The more you think your way through it, the more effective you are as its trustee. It is then that you finally live out the elemental truth that in life there are no rehearsals and you only play for keeps.”

In anticipation,

An unapologetic atheist

The cross of carrying a "Christian" name

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Some disclosures first.

• This post is being written in a fit of anger
• I am Indian
• I was born into a Catholic family. My parents and my wife are practicing Christians 
• I am an atheist

That out of the way, why the anger? The immediate provocations are two pieces I read earlier today morning. The first, Being Muslim Under Narendra Modi by Bashrat Peer in the New York Times. The second, Secularism is Dead by Shekhar Gupta in today's edition of The Indian Express.

I thought the NYT piece an interesting read. But, quite honestly, I'm tired of bleeding heart secularism, what the rise of the Right Wing means, and why "minorities" ought to be protected.  

Shekhar Gupta's argument is an interesting one as well. But I suspect a bout of intolerance embedded in the piece. The kind of intolerance stoked by too much "minority appeasement".  This is the kind of intolerance that terrifies me. Allow me articulate where I'm coming from.

I come from a school of thought that believes merit triumphs adversity. As Martin Luther King Jr famously said: The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice. To my mind, that explains how Babasaheb Ambedkar, a man born into the Mahar community, or "untouchables", got to draft the Indian Constitution, perhaps one of the finest in the democratic traditions of the world.

That also explains the rise of the now much reviled Dr Manmohan Singh, the first Sikh to the highest office in the land. Like Dr Ambedkar, he grew poor and earned a decent education on the back of his scholarly capabilities, not his minority status. For the record, I have to say this. For all his frailties, I think posterity will thank Dr Manmohan Singh for the reforms he unleashed.   

The India we live in now is a creation of men like these, as much as they are creations of Mahatma Gandhi and Pandit Nehru, part of the "majority community" (How I hate these politically correct terms!).

So how did India comes to be hijacked around discourses that constitute the "minority" and the "majority"?

Allow me put my personal experience into perspective. Because I was born into a practicing Christian family, my parents gave me a "Christian" name. For better or for worse, my identity is now "Charles Assisi". The cross I carry with this name manifests itself when I introduce myself. Often times, after the mandatory "What do you do?", a cursory "So, you're a Christian?" follows.

In the first instance, how does that matter? But my name places me in a ghetto. The insinuation as I have come to realize over the years is that I am a lesser Indian than somebody with an Indian name--or to put it in bluntly, a "Hindu" name.

I've been the subject of idiotic questions like "Did you learn English early because you were born Christian?"

That I enjoy Western Classical Music is attributed to my being a "Christian" when truth is I grew up on a staple diet of Malayalam films.

I'm slotted as a drinker when truth is I am a teetotaler (Yes, I used to drink until a few years ago much like anybody else from the "majority community").

It is taken for granted meat is consumed abundantly at home. Fact is, I do.  At home though, most of my family rarely consumes meat. My brother is a vegetarian in the finest traditions of the Jain community.

The Congress assumes my vote for granted, when fact is I find the politics it practices as obnoxious as that of the BJP.

I find it incredible when people ask me why are my daughters called Nayantara and Anugraha. "How did a Christian give his daughter's Hindu names?"  

Nayantara means "The star of my eye". What if I had called her "Stella del mio Occhio" instead?

Anugraha means "A blessing". What if I had called her "Benedicta"?

Would the same question have been asked of me? These aren't "Hindu" names. These are Indian names-- the India I was born into. 

That is why I find my name alien. "Charles" is English and "Assisi" is Italian. I've often asked my parents why did they name me Charles. The stock answer is because my grandfather was called that and  family tradition demands the first born be named after his grandfather. As for how did Assisi come about, I have no clue. I suspect it was decided by some Catholic priest from a foreign land who converted my ancestors to the faith.

But like I said earlier, for better or worse, this name, I have to live with. This is now my identity, my cross to bear, and the stereotypes that come with it. I am reconciled to living with it. What I can't reconcile with is how my name is being twisted to slot me as a "minority".

I didn't demand "minority" status. I don't want it either. I want no special privileges. I want to be known as my own man, who made it on his own. And I know how to make it on my own. I want to be respected for what I am and what I am capable of. 

That is why I squirm when political and religious leaders from the so-called minority communities demand protection and assurances are offered their "interests will be taken care of". That is also why I get horribly upset when I'm told the "freedom" I enjoy is because the "majority" thought it only appropriate I deserve that freedom.

I don't want anybody to either take care of my interests or protect my freedom. I know how to take care of both.

As Virginia Wolf famously wrote in A Room of of One's Own: "Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt, that you can set upon the freedom of my mind." 

A religion for atheists

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I hadn't seen this picture before until Richard Dawkins re-tweeted it with a link to a sharp rebuttal from a believer. The post Riding with Richard in the Land of Atheist Devotion caught my attention. Unlike most rebuttals that are shrill, this one is measured. But more importantly, it's clear to me after reading it, it comes on the back of contemplation. I so wish debates around religion were as measured as this.

The reason I say that is because until some time ago, I was one of those firmly ensconced in the Dawkins camp. The kinds who believed religious advocacy can only be countered by militant atheism. 

Over time though, I've tempered down. My belief in science, reason and logic remains unchanged. To that extent, I am still a believer in the Dawkins school of questioning everything. That said, the more I think of it, militant atheism is as fundamentalist as staunch beliefs held by any religious sects. 

That is why I find myself someplace in between. The sweet spot for me was articulated by Alain de Botton

Four years ago, I wrote to him in my earlier avatar as one of the founding editors at Forbes India to write an essay on our pages. He was kind enough to hear me out and wrote a lovely piece I had the privilege of publishing: A religion for atheists

"We’d be wiser to start with the common-sense observation that, of course, no part of religion is true in the sense of being God-given. There is naturally no Holy Ghost, spirit, geist or divine emanation. Dissenters from this line can comfortably stop reading at this point, but for the rest of us the subject is henceforth far from closed. The tragedy of modern atheism is to have ignored just how many aspects of religion continue to be interesting even when the central tenets of the great faiths are discovered to be entirely implausible. Indeed, it’s precisely when we stop believing in the idea that gods made religions that things become interesting, for it is then that we can focus on the human imagination which dreamt these creeds up. We can recognise that the needs which led people to do so must still in some way be active, albeit dormant, in modern secular man. God may be dead, but the bit of us that made God continues to stir."