Superstition in the 21st Century

We're fortunate to live in an era of unprecedented technological achievement. From the vastness of outer space - we recently observed a gamma burst from nearly 13 billion light years away - to the mysteries beneath the earth's oceans - we've observed hydrothermal vents, complete with thriving shrimp colonies, at depths we previously believed to be uninhabitable - to the incredible complexities of life - we've mapped, and are continuing to analyze the human genome, the basic building blocks of who we are - we now understand more about the earth, the universe, and ourselves than at any other point in human history. And that store of knowledge continues to grow and expand with each passing day.

And yet, over the last few decades, we've become increasingly superstitious as a society. This point has been brought home to me recently in two different ways.

Over this past weekend, I was having a conversation with someone about the year to come (a natural enough topic at this time of year). It turns out that he's under the belief that massive changes are about to rock the world, as early as March or April of this year, including the devaluation of the dollar by 90%, the elimination of all debt, both personal and corporate, a massive earthquake in California ("the Big One," if you will), and rioting in major cities across the US, culminating in a devastating revolution.

When I asked him why he thought these things were going to happen, he told me that, "people have been having dreams," and that this had all been prophesied.

Then, last night, while flipping channels, I came across part of The History Channel's "Armageddon Week," including two shows on the controversial "Bible Code."

For those of you not up on your Apocalyptic Prophecy, the so-called Bible Code is revealed when the text of the Torah (the first five books of the Old Testament) are laid out in a grid and decoded using a technique called Equidistant Letter Spacing (ELS). Using this technique, the decoder starts with a certain letter, then skips an equal number of letters in a specific direction looking for relevant words. For example:

the bold letters in this sentence form an ELS

If you start at the final "S" and read every forth letter going backwards, the word "Safest" is revealed. Bible Code junkies regularly wet themselves when they find several relevant words close to each other, thus "proving" that such coded messages were included in the Bible intentionally. They proudly point to such phrases as "Twin Towers," "airplane," and "Bin Laden," all referencing the tragic events of September 11, 2001. Their ability to predict events that have already happened is, admittedly, an interesting parlor trick, but their track record on predicting future events is somewhat less successful (Michael Drosnin, one of the main proponents of the Code, famously predicted massive earthquakes, a new World War, and an Atomic Holocaust, all happening in 2006. How's that working out for you, Michael?)

Interestingly, believers in the Code are split as to who, exactly, encoded the text. Many, of course, claim the Hand of God, while others promote either space aliens or time travelers. As a devout Pastafarian,  I'd like to throw the Flying Spaghetti Monster into the mix, just for completeness' sake.

Of course, critics point out that, with any book of similar length, such "coded messages" can be found, if one knows what one is looking for and manipulates the data successfully. To prove this point, an Australian researcher "decoded" the text of Moby Dick and found prophecies of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., the death of Princess Diana, and more. According to him,  a certain group of believers countered his research with the claim that he had conclusively proven God to be the author of Moby Dick, not Herman Melville as was previously believed. Ahoy there, Jebus.

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And this is the crux of the matter: that otherwise intelligent and educated people can believe such nonsense. The belief that the Earth is just over 5,000 years old - instead of the 4.5 billion that actual scientists tell us - is growing in popularity, as is the belief that the Creation Story in Genesis is factually accurate, and those pesky dinosaur bones that you and I can see and feel and touch were simply placed in the ground by God to test our faith. Another, related, belief about the dinosaurs, and one that I particularly find amusing, is that they were among the creatures Noah brought with him on the Ark. What happened to them after that is anybody's guess.

I understand faith, and I understand the need for a belief in something higher than oneself, especially in such currently troubling times, but why does faith need to equate with ignorance? Why, when faced with something we don't understand, do we instantly jump to the supernatural conclusion? I get it that rainbows are cool, but they're not miracles. A rainbow is an optical/meteorological phenomenon that occurs every single day. It's the refraction of light through droplets of moisture suspended in the atmosphere. There's no supernatural explanation necessary.

And as much as I appreciate that the birth of a baby is a landmark event in the lives of most people, that birth isn't a miracle, either. It's a repeatable event that occurs, non-stop, in every corner of the globe on every single day since mankind began. While it is significant, it is not a miracle.

An argument I've had frequently with believers in either Creationism or "Intelligent Design," is that their theories on the origins of Life, the Universe, and Everything, are just as valid as the Big Bang Theory, and the Theory of Evolution, as none of them can be conclusively proven or replicated in a laboratory, and none provide every last answer to every last question.

To them I say: Poppycock.

The difference between science-based explanations of the origins of Life, the Universe, and Everything, and faith-based beliefs, is that scientific theories have solid, evidential proof. Want evidence of evolution? Take a look at the development of the horse through fossil records. I can see and touch the bones of an Eohippus, and see the way the form of the animal developed over millions of years until it became the horse as we know it today. I don't have to rely on faith, and a book of mythology to tell me where the horse came from. Oh, but then there's that pesky assumption that God planted those bones to test our faith. Guess I fail that one.

The argument that any theory is as good and valid as any other theory is ridiculous on its face. Theories are more or less valid based on how much evidence supports them. And, I'm sorry, the Bible is no more evidence of the existence of God than Action Comics #1 is evidence of the existence of Superman. It would be lovely if it was otherwise, but just because you happen to believe in something doesn't make it real. My four- and six-year-old nieces firmly believe that Santa Claus slides down their chimney to deliver presents on Christmas Eve. Would that that were the case, but it's not, no matter how hard they believe in it. There is such a thing as objective reality.

So why do seemingly intelligent, educated people suddenly lose vast amounts of IQ points when confronted by things like the End of Days, the Bible Code, and Creationism? Why do so many people take these things seriously, or go so far as to espouse a literal interpretation of the Bible? Is it because our educational system has been steadily declining over the last several decades, failing to provide students with the critical reasoning skills necessary to confront these outdated superstitions? Or might it be that our understanding of science and scientific principles has reached such a high level that it is, to many laymen, indistinguishable from magic? I'll admit, the more I learn about quantum physics, the more it seems like sub-atomic hocus-pocus to me, but that's still no excuse for believing that dinosaur bones are here to somehow "test" us.

Perhaps it's that, in a day and age when many people feel like they are increasingly living at the whims and urges of others more powerful than themselves (i.e. the Government), the belief in a benevolent Higher Power is comforting. Perhaps ignorance really is bliss. But that only goes so far. Prohibiting people from marrying based on some outdated 2,000-year-old text, for example, is just wrong. Couching that prejudicial, ignorant belief in such flowery terms as "The Defense of Marriage Act," is, or should be, appalling and offensive to any rational, intelligent individual. Backing up your "opinion" on this type of societally-acceptable bigotry by saying, "Well, it's in the Bible so I believe it," is anti-intellectual drivel that should, in a perfect world, get you laughed out of the room. Without the ability to question and examine our beliefs, faith becomes mere dogma, and dogma, blindly applied, especially in social situations, is dangerous. That's a lesson that history has shown us time and time again, from the Crusades to the Salem Witch Trials to the Holocaust.

I wish I could propose a solution to this issue of willful ignorance, but I really can't. Especially so long as there are plenty of people with a vested interest in promoting that interest. How many copies of books having to do with the Bible Code, for example, have been written and sold? Enough to make someone, or multiple someones,  a very comfortable living, I suspect. How much money do churches around the world take in every day from the poor, dumb faithful, who are told that their tithes and offerings will assure them of a place at the Right Hand of God? These are the people and the institutions that foster this willful ignorance for their own gain. It's not a new phenomenon; it's been going on since the beginning of time.

Another factor in the growing reliance on superstition and mysticism is a lack of any sense of history. There's little, if anything, new under the sun, and a quick look at years past will confirm this. Currently, the best example of this is the incredible fascination with "End Times" literature, in which "prophets" from various disciplines tell us the world is about to end and/or God's judgment is about to be visited on the earth.

Many "seers" point to the year 2012 as the "End of Days," a fatuous belief made popular by the Mayan "Long Count" calendar, which seems to end on December 21st of that year. New Agers and other easily-deceived people have been wetting themselves for years over this "proof" that the world does not have long to live. They fail, however, to look below the surface of the calendar and see the real truth: that the Mayan calendar does not foretell the end of the world, just the end of a measured cycle. According to Meso-American scholars (i.e: those people that actually know something about this based on actual facts and research and not just hysterical rumor-mongering), the Mayans didn't see the end of the calendar as the end of the world. In fact, they celebrated the end of cycles, sort of the way we do on New Year's Eve. It's like getting all worked up because the calendar on your wall is about to expire. When I switched from a 2008 to a 2009 calendar, the world didn't end, it just marked the passing of a particular year. It's the same thing with the Mayan calendar. See how just a little bit of knowledge can set one's mind at ease? 

Others point to the Biblical Book of Revelations as "proof" that the world is about to end. In fact, Doomsday prophets have been pointing to this book as a prophecy of doom practically ever since it was written.

The Book of Revelations is, without a doubt, a gripping read, full of doom, destruction, and some of the greatest characters in Biblical literature, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

According to believers, the book is an account of a revelation given to "John" (there's a great deal of controversy as to whether this John, is, indeed, John the Baptist, John the Apostle, the author of the Gospel According to John, or simply someone else with the same first name. Let me tell you, it sucks to have such a common name) regarding the Second Coming of Christ and the ensuing cataclysmic battle between Good and Evil. If Stephen King was a Biblical prophet, this is the book he would have written.

Although the Book of Revelations is considered canonical, many leading thinkers and theologians have dismissed it entirely. Neither Martin Luther nor John Calvin had any use for it (Luther called it "an offensive piece of work"), and Thomas Jefferson omitted it entirely from the version of the Bible he edited, writing that he "considered it as merely the ravings of a maniac, no more worthy or capable of explanation than the incoherences of our own nightly dreams."

Some scholars note the growth of Amanita muscaria on the island of Patmos, John's home during the period in which he wrote Revelations.  A. musicaria is commonly known as fly agaric, a highly toxic and violently hallucinogenic species of mushroom. After ingesting a few of these, it would be no wonder that John saw visions.

And so, what is the significance of this oft-quoted book? As the Bush administration so deftly showed us, fear is a powerful tool when used to wield control over the masses. If the Church really wanted to control the actions and the thoughts of their followers, what better way then by instilling in them a healthy dose of fear regarding the imminent end of the world? Think of the Book of Revelations as the Biblical version of the Bush administration's Terror Alert system. Keep the people stupid and scared, and they'll follow you blindly, as long as you promise to keep them, and their immortal souls, safe.

Actually, Christian Doomsday beliefs predate John's exciting horror novel. Christians in the First Century firmly believed that Christ's return was imminent, as he told them he would be back shortly (predating both General Douglas MacArthur and Arnold Schwarzenneger). By about 90 AD, many of them realized that they had been had, and that maybe the end of the world wasn't coming quite so quickly after all. It would prove to be the first of many Apocalyptic disappointments throughout the ensuing years.

Martin Luther (1483-1546), he of the 95 Theses which marked the creation of the Protestant Church, was convinced that he was living in the end times. He said, "For my part, I am sure that the end is just around the corner... it is certain that time is now at an end." The Anabaptists - a radical Christian group formed during the Reformation -  were certain that the Millennium was to come in 1533. They didn't get the Apocalypse, but they did get Henry VIII's marriage to Anne Boleyn, and the establishment of the first mental institutions to make up for it. Of course, the year 1666 was one of great tribulation, marked, as it was, by the infamous Number of the Beast. I'm sure plenty of people saw Satan around every corner in that year, but the truth is, the biggest thing that happened in 1666 was either France and the Dutch declaring war on England, Antonio Stradivari labeling his first violin, the Great London Fire, or the first appearance of Cheddar cheese. Take your pick.

Than there's the Prophecy of the Popes, supposedly written by Saint Malachy in the 12th-century and revealed to the world in 1595 by Benedictine historian Arnold de Wyon. The document contains 112 short Latin phrases, supposedly describing each Pope in the order of his election, beginning with Pope Celestine II, who was named Pope in 1143, and ending with "Peter the Roman," the final Pope, whose reign will see the destruction of Rome and, presumably, the End of Days.

While it's an undeniably fun document, even the Catholic Encyclopedia considers it an elaborate forgery, couching their descriptions of later Popes in vague, almost riddle-like, terms., much like the celebrated prophecies of Nostradamus. For example, Pope John Paul II was described as "De labore Solis," or, "Of the Labor of the Sun." The term is sometimes interpreted as referring to a solar eclipse, so believers point to the fact that JP was born during a partial eclipse, or that as a young man he worked in a quarry (i.e.: "laboring in the sun"), or that the sun rises in the East, predicting that JP would be the first Pope from Eastern Europe, as proof of the accuracy of the Saint. Petrus Romanus, the final Pope, comes directly after Pope Benedict XVI, the current Pontiff, so be afraid... be very afraid.

And, of course, the list goes on and on. Christopher Love, a leading Presbyterian, predicted an earthquake that would shake the world in 1763, while Claas Epp, Jr., a minister in the Russian Mennonite faith, foretold Christ's return on March 8, 1889. When that day came and went, he revised his prediction to 1891. Keep trying , Claas.

Even more recently, the Prophets of the Apocalypse have been hard at work terrorizing people with visions of Hell on Earth. David Berg saw the coming of the Comet Kohoutek in 1973 as the harbinger of doom (he later changed his prediction to 1993), while televangelist Benny Hinn has foretold numerous dates for Christ's return, all of them passing without incident. William Kamm warned us about a devastating tidal wave that would sink the island of guam in 1994, while Harold Camping gave the hard date of September 6, 1994 as the Second Coming of Christ. Shelby Corbitt, working with information revealed to her by God himself, told us the Rapture - in which the faithful are bodily taken up to heaven, while the heathens are cast into the Lake of Eternal Fire - was coming in mid-2007. Are you seeing a pattern here?

One of my personal favorites is Gordon-Michael Scallion, a self-proclaimed "psychic" who has been predicting "earth changes" for decades, even going so far as to publish maps of future geography (now in its 3rd edition, according to his website) that will cost the faithful $30 a pop. It looks like Dallas is going to be beachfront property, so we're sitting pretty in North Texas. Of course, when Scallion's predictions don't pan out, he merely changes the date of his Doomsday scenario and continues to rake in the cash from book and map sales, seminars, etc. I guess if you're convinced the world is ending, it makes sense to make as much money as possible in the meantime. It's good to know, at least, that P.T. Barnum is alive and well.

And so it goes. This current round of Apocalyptic hand-wringing is nothing new. It bothers me, however, that we still haven't seen through this garbage, with all that we've advanced in the realms of science and technology. The Internet is ubiquitous these days; it takes very little effort to look up the facts on, say, the Mayan Calendar or the Bible Code, and see the flummery exposed for what it really is. Certainly, we've suffered through eight years of a President who seemed to make it his mission to stamp out learning and education in this country by any means necessary, but I'm disappointed that we, as a society, seem so eager to embrace his brand of willful ignorance.

There is, however, one thing we can all do to combat this dangerous scourge of anti-intellectualism, even in a day when having anything more than a Sixth Grade education gets you branded an "elitist": read. Read often and read a lot. Read anything and everything, especially viewpoints you disagree with. And always question what others tell you (even this). Don't believe it just because someone says it. Find out for yourself, and don't be afraid to crack a book open.

You might be surprised by what you learn.