I am (NULL)

There are few things as fundamental and as beneficial to a person as a sound set of beliefs. That's right - a set of beliefs, axioms, postulates, conjectures - oh, you know...the gyroscope in your bullshit detector, the high-level pseudo-hardwired circuits/concepts that determine whether you read the New York Times or the Wall Street Journal, the morning star that guides what people and experiences you feel sympathy towards just to name a somewhat frivolous few.

I suppose that a solid framework of beliefs is something like being uniquely talented at something (not that I would know). No matter how fragile and ephemeral the other aspects of one's life is, it is something that can't be taken away, something that can form the foundation of a fulfilling life, and perhaps most importantly it is a compelling way to identify oneself. Maybe a firm set of beliefs is even more compelling than being super talented at something, it certainly seems that way sometimes.

So let's see, how can I identify myself? Well...I am a human being. I am Indian. I am 25. I am a Californian. I am a Berkeley graduate. I am an engineer. I am a graduate student. 

I would argue that none of these identities is all that compelling. The problem I have with these identities is that I cannot define what I believe with them. That is to say, the words that follow "I am" in the previous sentences map very ambiguously, if at all, to what I would really like to define myself by, which is my beliefs. But I know people who don't have this problem.

Let's try again. If I were one of these so-called other people, how could I define myself? Well...I am a Zen Buddhist. I am an Irish Catholic. I am a Jew. I am a Sikh. I am an Atheist. 

Now I would never suggest that I can provide a strict mapping from each of these identities to a specific set of beliefs. I'm happy that I'm not that naive. However, it is clear that the mapping to a particular set of beliefs is much stronger for any one of these identities alone, than even perhaps, the intersection of my aggregate personal identities.

And there's the rub. Because instinctively (and I would argue materially, but that digression is for another day) I believe that a true sense of identity comes from being able to associate myself with a set of beliefs and being able to communicate the integral meaning of what I believe to others. Yet, I know that my beliefs are as pure and well-defined as any person who is able to identify themselves as a Buddhist, a Muslim, or otherwise.

This brings us to the question that Itamar is grappling with. Is he an atheist? Well, I would argue that both of us are atheists. That is to say that the word accurately describes a belief that both of us have; namely, that "God" in the commonly understood sense does not exist. However, I agree with Itamar that neither of us would identify ourselves as an Atheist.

I think that the Rabbi in asking Itamar, "What do you believe in?", gets to the heart of the question because when someone identifies themselves as an Atheist they have crafted their identity by defining the negative space rather than the positive space. But what I believe both Itamar and I seek is not an identity that communicates what we don't believe, rather it is one that communicates what we do believe.

I hope that this blog helps us define this identity for ourselves and perhaps for others.

So what do I believe?

When I was 14 I told my friends that Man created God and not the other way around.

I've been an atheist for as long as I can remember. A committed atheist. My personal theology has developed more or less like this: Religion is a tool for organizing, stabilizing, and yes, numbing society (with or without opiates). God is a story humanity tells itself. We live in a universe built on randomness. There is no universal truth and no meaning to our lives outside of our own constructs. Human life is validated by the existential choice to say "yes" and imbue life with meaning. And I still believe all of that.

Nevertheless, a couple years ago, as I was just reaching a stage of establishing that "yes," reaffirming that I could seek meaning and have faith in humanity, I had a discussion with a Rabbi. I wanted to talk to him about prayer and how I liked the singing and community feeling but had a tough time with the words I simply didn't believe. I disclaimered the conversation by saying, "To begin with, you should know that I'm an atheist." But the Rabbi turned that around on me and said, "What do you believe in?" And after I told him some short but spirited slice of my view of the universe he said something as silly as could be, yet something that has stuck with me. He said, "I think you and I believe in the same thing."

What?! And then he didn't even explain himself. It was hard to take seriously. He challenged my atheism without even challenging any of my beliefs. Just suggested I wasn't actually an atheist. And the strange thing is that two years later, though I still don't believe in a personal God or in any power that transcends the physical universe, I think he might be right. So what do I bellieve in?

I believe that all the mass and energy of the universe originates from one infinitesimal point in space an time. I believe the fabric of things is deeply random both in the most micro of micro-est interactions of quantum particles and in the macro of macro-est tendency of the universe toward chaos. But I also believe that out of that chaos and randomness has evolved ever more complex order and structure. From simple molecules to stars and galaxies to solar systems to single-celled organisms to ecosystems to the human brain and human society. Islands of complexity evolving from self-sustaining to self-aware. And each moment of the past is present now; nothing new has been created only shaped from the transformations that came before.

And I find all of that pretty divine. Not least of all the fact that I'm capable of contemplating the whole thing in the first place. So that's it. After some 12 years of fierce atheism, I don't think I'm an atheist anymore.