The Fallacy of Free Will

A RE-READING, once a year, of Mark Twain's "What is Man?" might save some of our social uplifters from becoming confused and uttering nonsense on the subject of free will. The book is a materialistic and mechanistic interpretation of human behavior, written by a master craftsman. The brain, says Twain, "is merely a machine; and it works automatically, not by will power."

We are led to this remark after reading the "Official Statement of Priniciples of the Humanist Society of Friends," in which the following lines occur:

"Religious humanism then, is the broader sense, carries with it a definite faith in man as the director of his fate, founded upon the latest scientific conception of the universe and man's place in it."

Man is no more "the director of his fate" than the alley cat or the family gold fish, for he is subject, in every thing he does, to the laws of inheritance and to the chemical make-up of his bodily mechanism. He cannot transcend his biological limitations or rise above his inherent abilities.

There are thousands of ambitious persons today who would like to write with the ease and grace of Shakespeare, paint like Meissonier, sing like Caruso, play chess like Capablanca, possess the sparkling wit and genius of Voltaire. Then why don't they? Because, in spite of Henley's famous fallacy, "I am the captain of my soul," they cannot do what they would like to do: they are merely mess-boys, not captains, on their voyage through life. No matter how much they try, they are unable to touch the tiller of their lives or guide themselves to port.

But our pep-talk Humanists and "success" psychologists love to tell us that we can do whatever we "will" to do. Theirs is the chatter of the visionary, which would have even the moron believe he is "the director of his fate".

If the world ever wakes up - I am not at all convinced that it will - it will realize that human conduct is governed more by glandular secretions than by pretty preachments and "moral" platitudes. The rake, the pyromaniac, the swindler, the miser, the glutton, the hypochondriac are rarely amenable to sentimental slogans. The bully respects no one but the one who knocks him down. He is no more susceptible to "moral suasion" than the sluggard, the liar, and the cheat. Those who respond to "moral niceties" are those who have been conditioned to respond in that way. The "reformed" criminal is generally one who has discovered (in his own case, at least) that crime "does not pay". Those who find it does, keep merrily on, cracking safes until caught by the police. The pickpocket who "accepts" Jesus at last is usually the one who has grown gray in the art and lost his deftness at snatching watches. Criminals are generally religious, but our penal records show how little these men are influenced by a "fear" of God. Sunday school lessons, pulpit sermons, and threats of hell are rarely restraining forces in the lives of the religious criminal.

A Columnist Barks Up The Wrong Tree

GEORGE E. SOKOLSKY, who writes for the New York Sun, hasn't an Irish name, yet he defends the Roman Catholic Hierarchy with the ardot of a Hibernian. Says Mr. Sokolsky:

"The Catholic Church needs no defense by me. It has survived for nearly two thousand years because it represents a discipled morality based upon the laws of God. Naturally the Church intervenes whenever a question of faith and morals arises."

Apparently Mr. Sokolsky has yet to learn that "the laws of God" are what the priests tell us they are. Often enough they express the wil of pious hoodlums. The expulsion of Jews from Spain, and the torturing of heretics by the Catholic Church were a part of "the laws of God" as decreed by the Vatican and executed by the "disciplined morality" of Roman Catholic priests. It was the Church's "disciplined morality" that gave us the Spanish Inquisition and such holy fete days as the Massacre of St. Bartholomew and the burnings of thousands at the stake. As for long-time "survivals", the cockroach has existed longer than the Church, and may even thrive long after Vatican City is a heap of dust. Under "the laws of God" it has existed for more millions of years than the Church can boast of in terms of centuries.

Sokolsky's pious flare-up and moral indignation at those who criticize Catholicism is a bit strained, coming from one who is "not a Catholic". He cannot "fathom" an article in the New Republic, which, mild though it is, hands the Catholic Church a well-deserved rebuke. We must be ready, says the article to which Mr. Sokolsky objects, "to take on in rough-and-tumble political combat those Catholics who attempt to coerce newspapers and producers of plays and pictures and public officials."

And why shouldn't we be ready to do this very thing? Those who blackmail or intimidate newspapers, lobby for special priveleges, hijack columnists like Sokolsky, and brow-beat public officials who stand in the way of the Church, are as beneficial to America as an importation of Asiatic rats. Would Mr. Sokolsky have us believe that he is actually in favor of Catholics who "coerce" newspapers?

The "disciplined morality" which the Catholic Church demands would make a Gestapo agent blush. Before me is a booklet bearing the saccharine title, "Assist the Souls in Pergatory", issued by a Benedictine convent and distributed to the faithful in St. Patrick's Cathedral in New York. Quite properly, it bears the "nihil obstat" and "imprimatur" of high functionaries of the Church. On page 6 is a bit of sadistic doctrine which may give even Mr. Sokolsky the creeps:

"Purgatory punishes, by tortures unknown to earth, the slightest stains of sin remaining upon the soul after death, and while punishing, purifies the soul from those stains. No human tongue can describe the intense pain which the suffering souls must endure in the process of purification. The Angelic Doctor, St. Thomas Aquinas, says: 'The least pain in purgatory is greater than the greatest suffering in this world.' And elsewhere he adds: 'The same fire torments the reprobate in hell and the just in pergatory.'"

The pamphlet next proceeds to tell us that Purgatory "is not a place of eternal pain, but will end at the last judgment" and that many souls are punished from twenty to sixty years and some "even longer". "The learned St. Robert Bellarmine and others held the opinion that there are some souls who will have to suffer in purgatory until the end of time", and "to the suffering souls, hours seem as years, and years as centuries."

And there is no relief, no respite from the torments in this torture chamber of God? There is, of course: you can give your "offerings" to the priest for the saying of masses for the dead, and so lighten the agony of those who plead to you: "Hasten, for we suffer unspeakable pains!"

Here at work are the same despicable institution, the same swindling priesthood, the same gang of divinely-ordained brigands holding their captive "souls" for ransom, in the manner of a Mongolian bandit or a Chicago kidnapper threatening to torture your loved one if your do not come across. And it works, works beautifully, this extortion, among the poor, benighted numskulls who have been intimidated by the Church. Only by bulldozing and terrorization does the Catholic Church flourish.

Heretofore, Mr. Sokolsky's forte has been in ferreting our political and bureaucratic abuses. Should he ever be looking about for another target on which to concentrate his remarkably fine talent for blasting at strongholds of corruption, he will find it readily enough in the day-to-day intrigues and political machinations of the Roman Catholic Church, whose subversive and coercive tactics are thoroughly known to every well-informed man. It is unthinkable, however, that he can ever engage in this type of writing for the New York Sun, whose attitude and editorial policy are Catholic and whose opinions, in all matters touching religion, are, from first to last, hog-tired by the Church. But if he cannot assail Catholic corruption himself, he should at least lay off those who do, and leave to others the rougher work he cannot do himself.

Dr. Gregory and Religion

A LETTER from Sir Richard Gregory, President of the British Association, has just come to hand, in which that genial personality discusses some of the points raised in a recent article of mine dealing with his book. Readers may recall that I criticized the work for its concessions to religion.

Dr. Gregory states that he wishes to be classed among the "freethinkers," even though he may not be, as he himself puts it, a "militant rationalist." In spite of all that can be said against religion, he still feels that something of "ethical" value may be salvaged from the wreck. This he would preserve by cultivating the "moral" teachings of our leading cults.

Dr. Gregory is not concerned, he says, with what men "worship" so long as it develops in them an appreciation of the virtues and strengthens their moral fiber. But is not this "appreciation" often developed in religionists at the expense of the intellect and by the sacrifice of that which is essential to the stability of character -- a regard for truth?

Our own concern in a particular creed is not whether it teaches a few moral platitudes, prates "goodness," or talks about loving one's neighbor, but whether it is, in its fundamental principles, true or false. A religion may have some good teachings in it and still be basically untrue and an influence for evil. Mohammedanism, for example, is against the drinking of intoxicating liquors (a moral teaching which Irish Catholics might profitably observe), but are its teachings on a hundred other questions anything but false and confusing to the intellect?

No end of examples may be found in which religious "morals" corrupt conduct. A Christian Scientist, for example, may be a "well-meaning" father, a kind husband, and a loyal friend, but what good does it do his stricken child if he abandons it to diphtheria because his "religious scruples" are against the employment of medical science? What benefit does the child derive from hearing that "God is Love" if it is neglected and left to the germs? Does not religious "morality" here result in a criminal act against the child?

Are there Christian teachings worthy of salvaging? There are precious few. For the most part Christian morality is perniciously false. The man who followed most of the preachments of Jesus would be a fool. Resist not evil. Take no thought for the morrow as to what you shall eat and what you shall wear. Sell all you have and give to the poor. If any man sue you at law and take away your coat, give him your trousers too. If smitten on one cheek, turn the other. Judge not, that you be not judged. Love your enemies. What man, professing these doctrines today, ever follows them? The simple fact is that they are not "moral" teachings but sanctified stupidities. They do not build character, they destroy it; and few Christians are such indolent dolts as to think of observing them. All the bland assurance we get about their lofty sentiments is pulpit rubbish.

Add to these the crazy notions of Jesus concerning demonology, hell-fire burnings and "gnashing of teeth," and blood-drinking rituals and you have a religion viler than voodoo itself. Strip Jesus, if you will, of his well-proved mythological character, and all you have left is a deluded and mentally sick man.

Can one say that the Christian religion, with all its infamous history, its sanguinary oppressions, and its nightmare theology has made the world finer? Dr. Gregory knows better. The groans from the Inquisition, the cries of tortured men and women, the butcheries of scientists and heretics belie that claim. Christianity has been tried -- and convicted by the decency of the world.

To sum up, no one has more aptly put the matter, in one sentence, than Dr. Gregory himself:

"Christian teachers claim that worship of a supernatural Being is essential to promote high ethical ideals, but I need scarcely say that I do not accept this view."

If morality, then, as Dr. Gregory maintains, is quite independent of a belief in God and can be practiced without it, why need we bother to retain religion? If the virtues can be sustained without the incubrances of superstition, why leave the religious structure standing as a perpetual eye-sore and disfigurement to civilization?