I think it has to do with the “leaving the tribe” aspect more than anything. Those of us who became devout in one of the more serious religions (that is, religions that view everyone else as a spectrum from “good but deeply flawed” to “hellbound”) had that religion encompass most of our social world, and so in order to leave it we had to face the prospect of ostracism from all the people we cared about. The evolutionary pressures to never get ostracized make for a lot of subconscious bias to fight, and a pretty dramatic tale.
If your conversion was undramatic, therefore, I conjecture that you didn’t have lots of friends or family who might have abandoned you if you stopped being religious.
I’ve been an atheist for about a year now, but I still haven’t “come out” of the atheist closet with my parents yet. They are southern baptist, and I know it will devastate them—my mom especially.
My own break with Christianity was a light switch moment (more like turning out the last light before leaving the place for good kind of light switch moment) that happened while I was watching the Discovery Channel, of all things. I’d been raised with the hard-line young earth, all-evidence-for-evolution-is-fabricated, fire and brimstone style belief. My faith had been eroding for almost a decade as I tried to rationalize the existence of God, but it didn’t really click until I saw a bunch of little Japanese Mudskippers crawling around in the mud with their elongated fins, the very picture of an evolutionary transition species that I had been taught since I was kid could not exist. I just thought “Well, that’s it then. I can’t honestly believe Christianity any more can I?” I think I actually let out a sigh at some point, but that may just be my mind filling in details for dramatic effect.
Really, my true belief had been gone since probably some time in high school. That was just the last straw that forced me to give up my belief in belief. Sort of like finally letting go of the rope, expecting to fall to your death, and discovering you were only a few inches from solid ground after all.
(that is, religions that view everyone else as a spectrum from “good but deeply flawed” to “hellbound”
That isn’t exactly a spectrum. There are serious and sincere believers who I have met who are forthright with the ‘hellbound’ prediction while also being far less judgemental than others who say ‘good but deeply flawed’. “Hellbound” is a prediction about future consequences not a personal criticism.
Indeed, I had two close friends in high school who predicted I was definitely going to hell. One academic liberal, one fundamentalist conservative. (It didn’t come up much.)
I meant ‘religions with claims to exclusivity’, basically. I don’t think anyone today worries that they’ll lose their social world if they leave their Unitarian church.
But yes, the relationship between theology and arrogance isn’t quite as simple as some might think.
I think it has to do with the “leaving the tribe” aspect more than anything. Those of us who became devout in one of the more serious religions (that is, religions that view everyone else as a spectrum from “good but deeply flawed” to “hellbound”) had that religion encompass most of our social world, and so in order to leave it we had to face the prospect of ostracism from all the people we cared about. The evolutionary pressures to never get ostracized make for a lot of subconscious bias to fight, and a pretty dramatic tale.
If your conversion was undramatic, therefore, I conjecture that you didn’t have lots of friends or family who might have abandoned you if you stopped being religious.
I’ve been an atheist for about a year now, but I still haven’t “come out” of the atheist closet with my parents yet. They are southern baptist, and I know it will devastate them—my mom especially.
My own break with Christianity was a light switch moment (more like turning out the last light before leaving the place for good kind of light switch moment) that happened while I was watching the Discovery Channel, of all things. I’d been raised with the hard-line young earth, all-evidence-for-evolution-is-fabricated, fire and brimstone style belief. My faith had been eroding for almost a decade as I tried to rationalize the existence of God, but it didn’t really click until I saw a bunch of little Japanese Mudskippers crawling around in the mud with their elongated fins, the very picture of an evolutionary transition species that I had been taught since I was kid could not exist. I just thought “Well, that’s it then. I can’t honestly believe Christianity any more can I?” I think I actually let out a sigh at some point, but that may just be my mind filling in details for dramatic effect.
Really, my true belief had been gone since probably some time in high school. That was just the last straw that forced me to give up my belief in belief. Sort of like finally letting go of the rope, expecting to fall to your death, and discovering you were only a few inches from solid ground after all.
I like this analogy. I think I’m going to steal it.
That isn’t exactly a spectrum. There are serious and sincere believers who I have met who are forthright with the ‘hellbound’ prediction while also being far less judgemental than others who say ‘good but deeply flawed’. “Hellbound” is a prediction about future consequences not a personal criticism.
Indeed, I had two close friends in high school who predicted I was definitely going to hell. One academic liberal, one fundamentalist conservative. (It didn’t come up much.)
I meant ‘religions with claims to exclusivity’, basically. I don’t think anyone today worries that they’ll lose their social world if they leave their Unitarian church.
But yes, the relationship between theology and arrogance isn’t quite as simple as some might think.
Conjecture correct.