Our old friend Laddie is gone.

My dear old friend Laddie died. I have a big aching hole where he used to be. He was getting on when he came to us, and we were told we'd probably have him for a year or two. Happily it was a lot longer than that. He was big for a Collie, but as gentle as any dog I have ever known. Totally laid back, he was always so pleased to see his friends, both canine and human. And the greetings we used to get were second to none. Laddie knew how to make his feelings known.

As long as we've known him he's had two problems; his digestive system and his joints. When he first came to live with us stomach upsets were frequent events. As we got to know his dietary needs better these decreased. He did have a couple of major problems even so. The first was a very bad attack of colitis which laid him so low we thought we'd lost him. But he survived, although he never regained his former energy after it. Later another stomach problem defeated all the vet's diagnostic tools, but once again he came through, having frightened us to death first.

But his joint problems got gradually worse, and from being an active dog who loved his walk in the country he became a dog who liked to go out and sit in the sun and meet his mates. Arthritic joints and collapsed ligaments in his feet made walking a trial for him, despite all the anti-inflammatory drugs and pain killers we could pump into him. None the less he retained his good nature, his love of socialising, and his desire to play (even if mostly from lying on the sofa) right to the end. And even on a day when his joints were playing him up, he never lost the desire to show off to a bitch in season. His amazing nose could detect female hormones from a few hundred yards, and he'd set off at speed. Lately he could not keep the chase up long, and I knew the end was getting near when I spotted one of his lady friends that I knew to be in season, some distance off. Laddie's nose went into overdrive, but he didn't even haul himself to his feet. He knew it was hopeless.

Last week another stomach issue laid him very low, and he had to see the vet late on Sunday night. But he recovered and was pretty perky by Wednesday or Thursday this week. However yesterday he was clearly having trouble getting about, and this morning he could not haul himself to his feet. I managed to get him into the car and to his favourite walking spot, but the best he could do was crawl a few yards on his stomach using his front legs. A friend helped me get him back into the car, and shortly after a large group of his friends came by. He was as usual pleased to see them, but he could not get up. He received sniffing from the dogs and stroking from the people and seemed happy enough to lay there for that. Then we took him straight to the vet. His life ended with his family round him, assured of our love and appreciation.

The Great Census Religion Con

Probably most people are aware there has been some debate about the census question on religion in the upcoming census. At the last census, in 2001, the same question was asked as this time: ‘What is your religion?’ It was placed directly after the Ethnicity question, and responders seem to have read it as another question about their background.

I say this because the most recent British Social Attitudes Survey split the question into two parts:
1.‘Do you regard yourself as belonging to any particular religion?’ and
2.‘What religious tradition, if any, were you brought up in?’

Answers to the second question closely match the 2001 Census return: only 18.5% said ‘No religion.’ But answers to the first question gave 50.7% of responders saying ‘No religion’ – almost three times as many. This is a strong reason to believe that people understood the census question to be about their religious background rather than about their religious practice. However, the answers are interpreted by decision makers in terms of religious practice for things as diverse as Radio 4's 'Thought for the Day' and funding for Faith Schools. They argue that less than 20% of the population are not religious, and therefore they should provide for the remaining 80%. In truth, as the answers to the first Social Attitudes survey show, the reality is somewhere close to 50:50.

The British Humanist Association tried to get the question for this census revised to be closer to the more carefully phrased one on the Social Attitudes survey. But resistance of the census authorities to any change was resolute. An item in Radio 4’s 'Sunday' on 27th February threw a clear light on the cynicism which lies behind this. The Deputy Director of the Census explained that the reason for keeping things as they are is that the users of this particular item in the 2001 census data want the question left as it was. Of course they do. The reason they are ‘users’ is that it gives them the answers they want. If it were changed now it would mean that their policies over the last decade had been unfounded. Who goes looking for egg on their face?

Speaking on the same programme for the Church of England, Linda Barley said that the question ‘is not about believing’. That made me sit up with a jolt! How is that so? Let's hear it again: ‘Religious affiliation is not about believing.’ Up to now I thought that the religions claimed that membership was entirely about belief and demanded respect, and even exemption from some laws (such as those discrimination against gays or women) on the basis of that deeply held (but unjustified) conviction. I am amazed that someone speaking for the church was prepared to admit on air that people who claim to be religious may not in fact believe a word of it. What they want is, for example, to manipulate access to a certain school, an opt-out for their prejudices, or some similar benefit. I am as glad as anyone to see the church admitting to the cynicism of those on their roll of members. Now I wait for other religious leaders to follow suit.

But back to the point. If you, being non-religious, want public policy over the next decade in matters affected by religious attitudes to be based on the facts, rather than on a carefully and cynically nurtured fiction, make sure that you tick the ‘No religion’ option on the census form.

There is a very nice short presentation on this topic prepared by the Milton Keynes Humanists. Click here to access it.

Thanks to Charles Baily for his help preparing this item.

Musical Talent

I'm sitting in a coffee shop mulling over some ideas for a blog post. As usual there is background music. It so happens that it's not to my taste, but that's normal. Sometimes I'm lucky and get good music to go with good coffee, more often not, but I am not the arbiter of taste for the world, or even for Wellingborough. No doubt more people will enjoy the music that is playing than would enjoy something I chose.

My issue is with what degree of talent it takes to be successful and make money from music. For many people this isn't important. Music is about satisfaction and enjoyment, and I am sure that is true for the performer I just heard. But he is also making money, a recording company has paid him in anticipation of making a substantial profit. So what does it take?

The other evening I was at an organ recital by one of the world's leading organists. His talent is undeniable, as is the amount of hard work he has put in to reach his present eminence. At the other end of the scale, a few years ago I was at a concert at a quite prestigious venue given by a local amateur orchestra. I paid a decent amount for a ticket, and they played with enthusiasm and enjoyment, but less skill. The violin section, for example did not so much attack a note as gang up on it and smother it with sheer weight of numbers. One cannot expect the same degree of skill from amateur performers as professionals, and one of the differences may be the accuracy with which violinists can tune their instrument and then hit a given tone exactly. But this failing spoiled the concert. Over and again a phrase began with a smudge rather than a note or chord, and severely detracted from the music. And the ticket price was not significantly less than for a top notch professional performance. I've not been to hear that orchestra again. Money is short, and I prefer to spend it on things I really enjoy.

I did not pay for the music in this coffee shop other than indirectly through the price of the coffee and food, which is in my view good value anyway. But in principle, the same question arises. I was sitting here, relaxed, soaking up the sunlight streaming through the window, barely aware of the music. Then it happened. The singer went for a high note that needed to be held. It was obvious from the chord the group was playing and the general direction of the melody what the note was supposed to be. He missed it, and not by a small amount. He then tried to hold the note he had missed, but his voice was not capable of it, and he wavered around in the general area of the note he had missed, without ever actually finding it. It was excruciating. And suddenly music I was happy to pay no attention to had been forced, painfully forced, onto my attention.

The singer lacked talent. He could neither hit nor maintain a note, which factors are the essence of singing. And it was recorded! The technology exists to correct such errors. Either no-one noticed or cared, or perhaps if it was pointed out the singer was offended. The singing produced was his style, and if you didn't like it, tough. Who knows? But why should lack of talent be rewarded with a recording contract? The question of musical taste is irrelevant. If it had been a harpsichordist who could not accurately render the works of Handel, a fidler playing Gypsy dances who could not keep in tune, or anything else, the issue is the same. Music is about melody and harmony. Styles and tastes vary over time and between people, but music remains the same in essence. Talent should be recognised and rewarded. Lack of it should not.

Toccata!

Life conspires with itself to bring a mixture of rough and smooth. Last night I had a ticket for an organ recital at Symphony Hall, Birmingham, which is my favourite concert venue in the UK. The Albert Hall is something special and different, but it has its drawbacks too. Symphony Hall manages to combine elegant appearance, compact size, excellence of location, perfect accoustics and a marvellous organ. I love to go to Symphony Hall. The only issue is the M6. Well, I know Birmingham pretty well, having worked there for several years, and consequentially I also know the the M6. It can be nasty, but the journey door to door ought to take less than an hour and a half. So I allowed two hours to be on the safe side. It was not enough - there was an accident (on the other carriageway) in road works and that added 50 minutes to the journey. Then on arriving at the NIA to park there was an event there. Finding parking was hard enough, and the task was complicated by hoards of teenagers milling about. So I was grouchy and late, the one being a direct consequence of the other. We missed the first two items on the programme. But we were finally ushered into wonderful gallery seats, my favourite seats in Symphony Hall, comfortable, roomy, with a great view of the performer.

The performer: I probably have not heard all the excellent organists in the UK, but I have heard a high proportion of them. Birmingham is blessed by having Thomas Trotter as the City Organist giving weekly recitals. Liverpool rejoices in Ian Tracey. Manchester enjoys Wayne Marshall. But for me the organist par excellence is John Scott, formerly organist at St Paul's Cathedral he is now at St Thomas' Fifth Avenue, New York City. He is not a showman like Carlo Curly, but listen to him play!

I had settled comfortably into my seat when John Scott began to play the last piece before the interval, the Toccata and Fugue in F Major by the incomparable J S Bach. It was simply magnificent. Bach himself would certainly have approved. Indeed, great organist though he was, Bach never had access to such an organ, with electro-pneumatic action and programmable stop combinations, and could hardly have created such sounds himself. I've long enjoyed this work, and here it was played as well as I can imagine it being played.

After the interval came a new work to me. Robert Schumann's Romantic style is a long way from Bach's Baroque. Bach's music had fallen out of favour soon after his death, and it was restored to its rightful place in the repertoire by the efforts of Schumann and others around the 1840s. Schumann wrote a series of 6 fugues taking the letters of Bach's name as his starting point (B flat, A, C B natural in our notation corresponds to B, A, C, H in the German equivalent). This interesting fugue combined the essence of Bach with the flavour of Schumann, and I look forward to hearing it again.

Then came the climax of the concert. Everyone knows the brilliant organ piece played at the end of Charles and Diana's wedding. It must be the most popular ending to church weddings, and is thus either rendered or slaughtered by church organists depending on their ability many times over every year. It is in fact the 5th movement of Charles-Marie Widor's 5th Organ Symphony. Sadly while the final Toccata is commonly heard the remainder of the Symphony is infrequently played, and I had gone to this recital specially to hear it.

It is a spellbinding work created by a master musician and outstanding organist. The first movement is an exciting Allegro, then comes a lyrical second movement. The third movement begins gently, then ups tempo with most of the melody in the pedals. The fourth movement is a wonderful, almost heartbreaking Adagio and then comes the brilliant virtuoso finish in the final Toccata which had me on the edge of my seat. It was nothing short of superb. Having heard John Scott play it in Birmingham there is only one thing left to do: go to Paris and hear it again on the organ of the church of Saint-Sulpice where Widor himself was organist for over 60 years.

The applause was deafening, and John Scott came to the microphone to thank the audience, and to say that, having heard the second most famous Toccata, should anyone feel short-changed by not having also heard the first most famous, he'd play that now. So we were treated to more Bach, the wonderful Toccata ‌and Fugue in D Minor, for which John Scott brought the utmost out of the fabulous Symphony Hall organ. Bach would have loved it. The sound of that great organ filled every cell of my body as the fugue reached its climax, and every shred of frustration on the way up the M6 had been compensated for many times over by the exhilaration generated by this combination of fine instrument, superb organist and glorious composition.

But next time I'll be in Birmingham in time for afternoon tea.

Scepticism

My main philosophical interest for the last 20 years or so has been epistemology, the study of what we can and cannot know, what the limitations on knowledge are. My natural inclination is to be sceptical of claims to knowledge. In my view there are good reasons for suspecting that our confidence in what we think we know is not well founded, and that the greater the confidence someone has in a position the more likely they are to be on very shaky ground.

Recently I have noticed that other fields of study are coming up with work that underwrites the sceptical position. For instance, a few years ago I read 3 books by the biologist Andrew Parker. The books are mainly about vision, and describe his work particularly in the evolution of colour vision. In these volumes he describes in great detail both the seeing end in different versions of the eye, and also the seen end and the physics of the different ways nature has evolved that give us colours to see. (I'm not really happy with the way I've phrased that, but it'll do.) This convinced me that the colours we see are created by the brain - they represent something out there, but we cannot be sure exactly what. Cannot, in the previous sentence, indicates a fundamental barrier to knowledge. Certainly colour does not exist in the accepted sense: it's a creation of our brains.

I have taken an intelligent interest in cosmology, as much as a non-physicist can. One thing we can be reasonably sure of is that there is a whole lot out there we do not understand. There are theoretical reasons for thinking that there must be dark matter, dark energy, but so far we are not able to detect either directly. Gravitational lensing of distant objects makes us think that there must be a massive something between us and it. But we cannot actually detect that something itself. Who knows what else there might be out there, and who knows how accurate our present understanding of the natural world is? But if we have good reasons for suspecting that we are ignorant of something in excess of 90% of what exists, how can we claim to have secure knowledge of the other 10%? All we can say is that what we think we know represents what is actually there well enough to produce effects we can repeat and describe, whether in my toaster, or by flying the Atlantic and sending space-craft to Saturn, or in the Collider at CERN. We can trust what we think we see well enough to support our evolution, but perhaps (necessarily) no better than that.

Then there is all the interesting work going on in Neuroscience and Psychology. There is experimental evidence that seems to show that limb movements which we take to be the result of conscious decisions are in fact initiated in the brain long (up to 6 seconds) before we become aware of them. Miles's TV series shows, among other things, how pre-conscious emotions determine what we take to be rational decisions. Work by psychologists with illusions is also convincing that a good chunk of perception is in the brain, not the sense organs. For example, the subject is shown a face saying either BAH or PAH. The lip movement is clear and distinct. He also hears the speaker's voice saying either BAH or PAH. But the sound played is always BAH. Even the researcher who described this, after 20 years of working on it, always hears what the mouth seems to say, despite the fact that he knows very well what sound is actually reaching the ears. It always works. For some reason the brain hears what the eye sees, not what comes in the ears. There is a lot of work along these lines showing similar things. In other words, our perceptions are, to a larger extent than we would want to think, constructed in our brains, and are not a reliable reflection of the world as it is.

Now the BBC has reported some work with painkillers described in Science Translational Medicine. In short, people acting as experimental subjects are hooked up to a system that delivers a powerful pain killer, and are also subjected to some pain. The experiment seems to show that the subjects' experience of pain is greater or less depending on what they are told is happening, and not on the pain given or the pain killer administered. The brain's expectation of pain can completely wipe out the effect of the pain killer, for example. It's well worth reading the item.

The point is, of course, that our experience of the external world and how it impinges on us is created in the brain, and is not directly connected to our experience itself. What we think is what we experience, not what happens to us.

The idea that we can be certain of anything outside our own heads appears more and more ridiculous.

Egypt

I expect that, like me, you've all been watching events in Egypt. So many issues are being played out. Most of the worry seems to come from demonisation of the Muslim Brotherhood, and what a free election might mean for Israel. Being a fervent democrat it seems to me that you cannot deny a nation its franchise rights and you have to find a way to live with the results that democracy throws up. Ever since Plato at least there has been a strand of opinion that sought to deny ordinary people a voice because of what they might choose to do. The whole Enlightenment tradition has faced that fear and favoured democracy anyway, with somewhat mixed results I admit, but that seems to me to be the way to go.

Be that as it may, I tend to hear a lot of the BBC World Service as I drift in and out of sleep in the small hours. The only bits I can remember from last night came from Egypt, and the one that has stayed with me was an interview with one of the leaders of the Muslim Brotherhood. I can't recall his name, nor the interviewer, nor can I quote what he said exactly, and I am stronger on the first part than the second, but here goes.

First, he was rejoicing in what had happened. Words to the effect of: "We did this, the Egyptian people. There was no violence, we did it, Muslims and Copts, men and women, altogether we did it." I was impressed by the inclusiveness of what he said, and he went on "What we want now is a free democracy where everyone has their rights". I don't claim to quote that exactly, but that is the import of what he said. I was struck by such words coming from a Muslim, because I worry about Islam's inherent tendency to authoritarianism and to denigrate everyone else. But that is what he said.

Second, the reporter asked about Israel. And his answer was along the lines of: "We have so many more important things to do than worry about Israel." He paused and went on "We are peaceful people, you have nothing to fear".

Set against all the violence that the world has suffered from Islam this decade or so, I was much encouraged, and drifted off to sleep again, hoping I'd remember enough to write it down in the morning.

Is this perhaps the start of saner voices coming to the fore? I do hope so.

Islam and Prejudice

Baroness Warsi, co-chairman of the Tory Party, is reported as saying that prejudice against Muslims is seen as normal. The BBC claims that she will say (how I hate that - it's not news until it's said, and it's only then that the actual content and context can be judged) in a speech to Leicester University that prejudice has passed the dinner-table test. Well, I am wary of being prejudiced. I certainly try not to be, but I am also aware of having a very negative impression of Islam, a different impression from that which I held when it was the subject of academic study in my student days. But it is right to scrutinise one's views, so let's have a look at what's going on for me.

Obviously there is the effect of terrorism. It's not that Christians (say) haven't adopted terror tactics in the recent past: they have. The murder of doctors involved in abortion in the US comes to mind. Prior to that, the Klu Klux Klan had Christian associations, even though their behaviour defied any reasonable interpretation of Christianity. The divide in Ireland was on religious lines, and even Catholic priests were rather close to active terrorists. I guess the same may be true of the other side, though I know of no accounts. But in Ireland the primary motivation was political, not religious. Religious leaders sometimes spoke out against terrorist activity, though also some did not. But the horrific mass murders perpetrated by Islamist terrorists recently, both against the West and against their own co-religionists so appall decent people it is extremely hard not to be strongly influenced by them. And it has to be said that very prominent religious leaders have encouraged, or supported, such actions. Starting from Ayatola Khomeini's fatwa against Salman Rushdie, urging the murder of someone who had written a book he disapproved of (probably without reading it) some incredible, horrible, things have emerged from Islam. And, in the UK at least, recent events make one think that being the victim of a terrorist mass murder by someone who is not a Muslim is very much less likely than by a perpetrator who is a Muslim.

And all this is against a background of views that seem to be rooted in the 6th Century CE - if not more primitive than that. You only have to think of the uneducated imam who declared "Many women who do not dress modestly lead young men astray and spread adultery in society which increases earthquakes". This was in a sermon delivered at Tehran University. (Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/8631775.stm) It's not difficult to find other similar examples of a world view that seems to predate the ark. I know you also get idiotic, uneducated views promoted by Christians - the Creation Museum being an outstanding example - but even the brainless lunatics who still think the earth was created in 7 days on 22 October 4004 BCE don't think that the presence or absence of clothing is related to plate tectonics or vulcanism. Mind you, I know a few who think that God takes a personal and detailed interest in their parking requirements, and you only need to watch the NFL briefly to see that many players think he is a football fan and supports their team. Ignorance is a terrible affliction where ever it is found, but Islam seems to take pride in it.

Of course not all Muslims take such unsupportable views, but I wish a few more of those that don't would stand up and say so. It looks as though the authoritarian stance taken by not only teachers of Islam but also followers has something to do with this. Organised religion tends to be authoritarian. The Pope still tries it on from time to time, for example. But in the Christian West the church lost its hold over what people think and do at the time of the Enlightenment. Today most Christians embrace Enlightenment values, not least the freedom to think, and to say, and to write and publish what you believe. They also take the view, by and large, that this is a good thing because it provides an environment in which people can grow to their full potential, and in which something closer to the truth emerges through the discussion and criticism of the various views that people hold. If I cannot defend my views in a reasonable way when under rational criticism, there is at least something missing from my understanding of my own position. It is also rather likely that there is something wrong with the views themselves.

Religious leaders usually don't like educated people criticising or questioning them. On a trivial and local level I have personal experience of this. When I was a clergyman in Northampton I offered a course, an introduction to thinking theologically and realistically (I thought such a thing was possible!) in my own parish. The Vicar of the parish thought the material was good and suggested I open it to all the local churches. So I publicised it to the other clergy, so they could alert their people. Apart from in my own parish, there were no takers. I happened to meet one of the senior local clergy in the street and I asked him why he thought this was so. His reply was that it was because he hadn't told his congregation about it. He did not want them to be theologically educated, he said, because if they were they might start to question him, and that would never do. When the first session was held, in which I opened up some areas for discussion, someone objected and said she'd not be coming again because I was not telling her what to think. No indeed, I wanted her to be able to think for herself, something our predecessors had fought for and given their lives for, but which she was too frightened to do, so cowed was she by successive authoritarian clergy.

But in general, the hold that the church has over the minds of even its adherents, is greatly weakened today, thanks to education, and encouragement to learn, and to think for oneself, and to question things that do not appear to be true. Islam never had its own Enlightenment. The Golden Age in which great Islamic scholars both preserved and advanced knowledge in astronomy, philosophy and mathematics is long past. Just learn to recite the Koran, in a language you may well not understand, and settle for that, seems to be the way. Some think that women should not be educated at all. I guess that's for much the same reason as the Northampton clergy did not publicise my course - it would lead to them questioning the unfounded assumptions of the men, and that would never do.

But none of the above is the primary cause of my worry about Islam. Just recently there has been a terrible, but similar, event in both Islamic Pakistan and Christian America. In both places there has been an assassination attempt on an prominent elected official. In Tuscon, Arizona, Jared Lee Loughner opened fire on Representative Gabrielle Giffords, seriously wounding her and killing several other people. At least, he has been indicted for the crime, and was apprended at the scene trying to reload his gun. In Pakistan Punjab Governor Salman Taseer was assassinated, confessedly by one of his own bodyguards. In both cases, this is not only murder, but also an attack on democracy itself.

In the Arizona case, there has been a lot of heart-searching, and some wild accusations, from both sides of the political divide. No-one approves of murdering members of the body politic no matter how much their views differ from one's own. The assumption at present is that the assassin is in some way mentally ill. In Pakistan too thousands mourned Governor Taseer. But, and it is an enormous but, in Pakistan some religious leaders have praised the governor's killer. (Source: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-south-asia-12116764) Why? Because he was a liberal, a man who believed and said that Pakistan's blasphemy law is draconian and needs to be changed. Malik Mumtaz Hussein Qadri confessed to the murder and people gave him garlands. One religious leader said "No Muslim should attend the funeral or even try to pray for Salman Taseer or even express any kind of regret or sympathy over the incident". Some people supported Governor Taseer because he spoke up for minority rights. Other supported his murderer simply for religious reasons. The New York Times reported that the assassin "was showered by hundreds of supporters with rose petals and garlands. Moderate religious leaders refused to condemn the assassination, and some hard-line religious leaders appeared obliquely to condone the attack". (Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/06/world/asia/06pakistan.html)

The difference is clear, and I don't think it is prejudice. In America those for and against Mrs Giffords' policies were equally horrified at the assassination attempt. Everyone sees and condemns it as an attack on democracy itself. In Pakistan while that view was also found, so was a vocal element, encouraged by some religious leaders, that supported the assassin for purely religious reasons. Christianity is not without its kooks and an insane fringe who will stoop to the murder of their opponents. They are a tiny minority condemned by almost all. In Islamic Pakistan those who support murder on religious grounds are at the very least a significant minority, maybe much more, and too large a proportion of more reasonable voices are intimidated into silence. That fundamental factor, a religious authoritarianism that is closely related to Fascism and is all too frequently found in Islam, is the source of my deep unease with Islam. I don't think it is prejudice. And it is opposed to all the human values I believe in. If a British Muslim leader would condemn such views and support Governor Taseer and human, Enlightenment, values I would be delighted. So far I have heard no such comment.

As everyone knows, my position is that religion is at best a mistake, one powered by deep emotional factors. But at least some adherents of religion retain human decency and value humanity itself. Others do not, and the sad fact is that Islam gives the impression of having the largest contingent of those whose fervour not only overcomes all reason but all human feeling as well.