Over the past few years, atheism has become something of a social movement, motivated by the release of many popular books, movies, and other media on the subject. The movement has been branded the New Atheism. But as a result of this increasing social presence, many atheists and atheist groups are being attacked and criticized, and the most prevalent criticism is the charge that many atheists are too extreme. This criticism is often voiced in a number of ways, and these critics refer to atheists as “fundamentalist,” “militant,” “dogmatic,” “radical,” or “extremist.” In fact, the critique of the developing atheist movement as extremist is so common that it has even become an internalized dispute among nonbelievers; it certainly isn’t a criticism made solely by theists.

In essence, the criticism of the emerging atheist movement centers around the provocative nature of its figureheads. Dawkins, Hitchens, and various other prominent atheists are frequently criticized for being arrogant, rude, and dogmatic extremists, among other things. The New Atheism is seen as inflammatory and divisive, driving a wedge between atheists and more liberal theists who could potentially be sympathetic to the movement, and causing the atheists to become as reprehensible as the religious fundamentalists they despise. As a result, critics charge that the New Atheism will only become more militant and extreme, unable to support itself and ultimately failing without accomodating any sort of alliance with moderate theists.

This debate should seem familiar. In most social movements, factions are divided into “extremists” on one hand and “moderates” on the other. But what is being branded as “extremism,” “militance,” and “fundamentalism” in the New Atheist movement is hardly analogous to the extremism found in most other social movements. In Islam, for instance, the extremists talk of destroying infidels and western society, strap bombs to themselves, and fly planes into buildings. In Christianity, extremists and fundamentalists vilify homosexuals and the reproductive choices of women, often attempting to curtail their rights through legislation. In the civil rights movement, groups like the Black Panthers advocated and even practiced violence. Meanwhile, in the New Atheist movement at worst you might find Hitchens making a smug remark, and that is what constitutes “atheist fundamentalism” and “extremism” to so many critics of this movement.

Thus, with a little historical perspective, it becomes clear that what many call extremism or militance in the New Atheist movement is more akin to mild impoliteness. To try to portray atheists as extremists or fundamentalists in the usual sense is clearly misguided, as atheists are not advocating any sort of policy to discriminate against or harm others. To equate the New Atheism to the extremism in Christianity, Islam, or even the Civil Rights movement is tantamount to equating the indignity of not excusing a burp to an atrocity like flying a jet into a building or throwing a pipe bomb into an abortion clinic. Such criticisms are nothing more than empty rhetoric and they are based only on superficial similarities. For instance, atheists are frequently characterized as “fundamentalists” because they speak with just as much passion and just as much fervor as religious fundamentalists. They are “extremists” because they break social norms and question religion openly, just like a street preacher yelling about fire and brimstone. But these are benign and irrelevant similarities shared by the atheists and religious extremists. Having passion or even fervor for a subject is not necessarily negative, otherwise we’d be forced to see educators and teachers who care passionately about their jobs as vile, evil forces. And open criticism is certainly not negative, as it is a prerequisite for and the basis of any true democracy and open society. If one is prepared to call atheists “extremists” on the basis of such trivial similarities as their passion and fervor, then there is just as much reason to refer to civil rights advocates, including Martin Luther King Jr., as extremists. In fact, this line of reasoning also allows one to refer to jaywalkers as terrorists—after all, both jaywalkers and terrorists breathe oxygen and have noses and have committed a crime. The similarities between atheists and religious fundamentalists are just as benign. They are irrelevant to any claim of extremism, and calling the New Atheism extreme or fundamentalist is misleading given the usual connotations of these descriptors.

So when the negative connotations of words like “fundamentalist,” “extremist,” and “radical,” are removed and we examine the New Atheist movement objectively, it becomes clear that, at best, we can argue that perhaps the figureheads of the movement are a bit snide and rude. Whether they truly are rude is debatable, of course, but we can all certainly agree that such a criticism is rather trivial. And the fact that atheists may share this quality of rudeness with religious extremists is irrelevant, as well. The main problem that secularists have with religious fundamentalists isn’t that they are arrogant assholes; it’s that they try to legislate divisive acts of discrimination under the guise of “values.” The New Atheists, on the other hand, are not guilty of such intolerance and bigotry. New Atheists are not attempting to write legislation banning religion or infringing the rights of believers, nor are they engaging in any sort of arrogant dogmatism (Dawkins himself admits that he can’t be completely certain God does not exist). And theists do not have a legal or ethical right to have their beliefs sheltered from any sort of criticism. Regardless, the mockery of theists is often treated as somehow analogous to racism or homophobia, but it is clearly several orders of magnitude less problematic; mockery of a belief that is probably factually wrong is not even remotely equivalent to denying equal rights to gays and women. The New Atheists understand that theists have the right to believe in God, with the caveat that atheists in turn have the right to criticize these beliefs and believe otherwise.

So the term “extremist” in regards to atheism is clearly a misnomer. Nevertheless, religious people tend to view the New Atheists with suspicion and see them as angry and off-putting. The point still stands that the New Atheism may fail from a pragmatic perspective because it drives away potential support from nonfundamentalist religious moderates. However, it is important to note that the New Atheism is not concerned merely with effecting social change. The New Atheism also emphasizes skeptical, scientific thinking; these values are what make the New Atheism “new.” Thus, the New Atheists are not of the nihilistic, existentialist variety prevalent decades ago with the ascent of continental French philosophy; the New Atheists are secularists, skeptics, and scientists. This atheism is the product of a fallibilist, scientific epistemology that emphasizes evidence. Because of this, the New Atheists are also members of the wider skeptical community. They rail against the idols of the right (fundamentalist religion) as well as the idols of the left (alternative medicine, “spiritual” religion, conspiracy theories, postmodernism, etc.). The old atheism had previously been oversaturated with postmodernism and continental philosophy, represented by philosophers like Nietzsche, Camus, and Sartre. In contrast, the New Atheism is represented by scientists and those more in tune with the analytical/pragmaticist tradition in philosophy, as evidenced by the fact that the “four horsemen” of New Atheism are Daniel Dennett (an American philosopher), Richard Dawkins (a scientist), Christopher Hitchens (a journalist), and Sam Harris (currently seeking a doctorate in neuroscience). Not a Frenchman to be found!

Because the pursuit of truth and the use of a scientific style of inquiry drive the New Atheism, moderate theists are not sought after as allies. The type of society the New Atheists are attempting to create is one in which people engage in free inquiry devoid of dogmatism and based on evidence. We must change the way people think about the world before the movement can actively effect change for the social position of atheists and secularists. It is true that the New Atheists could crawl to religious moderates for help in raising the social status of atheists, but this would only serve to legitimatize the same flawed type of faith-based reasoning that gives rise to religious fundamentalism in the first place. The New Atheists criticize religious extremism not simply for being extreme and violent, for sometimes extremism and violence can be justified; rather, religious extremism is also criticized on the grounds that it has no basis in any sort of evidence or sound reasoning. And such an evidence-based, epistemological critique of religious extremism is just as applicable to the faith-based reasoning of religious moderates. In the end, legitimizing the faith-based thinking of religious moderates wouldn’t change the intellectual culture, which is what must be changed to truly pave the way for the social change atheist’s desire. A society reasonable enough to see that faith is not a virtue, that beliefs and social policy should be based on evidence and reasoning rather than dogmatism and holy books, would clearly ensure the rights of atheists—and at the same time the rights of countless others that suffer under the plight of religious “values,” from oppressed homosexuals to burka-laden women. The emerging atheist movement doesn’t just want acceptance of atheism; it wants to create a society in which the citizens are scientifically literate critical thinkers. It therefore does not matter that religious moderates reject the violence and bigotry of religious extremism, because they reject extremism for all the wrong reasons—namely, as a result of their faith.

As an analogy, suppose that a mathematician lived in a society in which many people came to the wrong conclusions through faulty calculation whereas others came to correct conclusions by using the same faulty calculations through sheer luck. If the mathematician were trying to promote mathematical literacy, she would not align herself with anyone that taught improper calculations, even if they happened to arrive at the correct conclusion; rather, she would cry out against both groups who use the improper calculations, advocating the teaching of mathematical axioms and the use of calculations based on an understanding of the underlying mathematics. The mathematician would realize that supporting those who came to the correct conclusions in spite of using flawed calculations is no foundation for the future of mathematics, because if the justifications and calculations are flawed, the future generations would be susceptible to the misunderstandings and errors that plague the community emphasizing the incorrect answers. Likewise, religious moderates are not allies of the New Atheism merely because they share the same ethical or political views, because their justifications are really no different in epistemological quality from those of the extremists, being rooted in faith and dogmatism rather than evidence. Simply because they are the enemies of our enemy does not make them our friends.

With that said, however, it certainly doesn’t seem true that the alienating effects of the New Atheism have led to the demise of atheist social movements. On the contrary, in the years since the publication of the various New Atheist books, so often called shrill and dogmatic, I’ve seen atheist groups become more active and mobilized. Atheist groups are no longer composed solely of old men, but many in the younger generation are joining such groups—and even women, too. In the past decade, more and more people have become willing to identify themselves as atheists, in large part because of the New Atheist movement and the encouragement of people like Richard Dawkins.

Clearly, to call the New Atheists fundamentalist or militant is misguided and wrong, given a little historical perspective. Such remarks are only exagerrated, misguided attempts to characterize atheists as rude. And maybe the wider society does see the atheist movement as rude and uncouth, but that is no criticism of its message, which encourages scientific literacy, social recognition of nonbelievers, and secular ethics. The New Atheism is not concerned with appeasing the hurt feelings of religious moderates, who don’t like to hear their beliefs challenged, but with constructing a society in which free inquiry (even into religion) is tolerated and accepted, and in which atheists can be treated as equals. Ultimately whether the New Atheists are truly rude or not is quite irrelevant. We are concerned with things of greater importance. But seeing as how atheists are still frequently cited as people incapable of moral behavior, unsuitable for political office, and unwilling to defend our country, it seems clear that, frankly, we have a lot of good reason to be rude. When religious extremists elsewhere are murdering and oppressing, I’ll gladly accept the designation of “rude” for loudly criticizing these atrocities. Consider me an atheist extremist.

The Internet is changing the way we do… Yes, you’ve probably heard this before.  By now, this is the standard, cookie-cutter lead-in to any sort special interest piece about the Internet.  The Internet has changed the way we shop; it has changed our love lives; it has changed our TV viewing habits; and now we are finding out that it changes the way we die.

A few weeks ago, NPR featured a story about online death.  Strangely, the story treated the Internet as “serious business” as the kids say, which is a definite no-no.  To have your death known online is a bit like dying from suffocation during autoerotic asphyxiation—you don’t want to be in that position.  If I were to die, for instance, I’m sure my blog would carry on until my payment expired, and for a few months, at least, I’d get comments on blog entries telling me how I enriched people’s lives, and so on and so forth.  But soon after it would be drowned in spam hawking Viagra, penis enlargment pills, and god knows what else.  An anonymous creationist who I may have badmouthed in the past would likely come along and spam the site with nasty comments about my tiny penis size.  This is just the way the Internet usually works.  the Internet, after all, is just the world’s largest truck-stop bathroom wall, minus the glory hole.

And yes, the Internet can even cheapen death.  Consider, for example, a recent death documented on Facebook.  An online friend of mine documented the status updates detailing the sickness and death of a Facebook “friend’s” wife, and the resulting stream of text, put into a single place, is at once ridiculous, pathetic, and sad.

The story of the wife’s death is tragic.  She gets checked into the ER.  Her illness stumps the doctors and appears serious.  Then she seems to get better, becoming less confused.  But finally, she succumbs to the illness after a lung collapses, along with internal bleeding.  This is all recorded in the stream of status updates.

What makes the story ridiculous and strange is the text in between all of this.  After his wife is sent to the ER, for instance, he “became a fan of Kool-Aid.”  After stating that he is worried sick, he “became a fan of cookie dough.”  And after she dies, he posts the obituary, and, naturally, “became a fan of Krispy Kreme.”  One almost gets the impression that he is the sort of person who consoles himself with food when he is upset.  But strangest of all, on the day of the memorial he talks about how sad and upset he is, says that he has to pick up the pieces and move on, and then immediately updates his status from married to single.  Apparently he picks up the pieces quick!

I’m just glad he didn’t have a Twitter.  “My wife just died.”  Five hours later:  “I just took a dump.”

Of course, taken out of context, this all seems surreal and hilarious (in a “I shouldn’t be laughing, but I am” sort of way).  Why would you update your fan status for a variety of foods and sports while your wife is dying and even immediately after she has died?  How do you go from posting your wife’s obituary on Facebook to then deciding to stick around to inform everyone you’ve become a fan of frosted donuts?  How does one come to the conclusion that it’s a good idea to post all of this on Facebook, in the cesspool known as the internet?  It is almost akin to writing the obituary in a restroom stall, right under Sally’s phone number, which you can call for a “good time.”  When all of these events are documented and put together in such a way, intermingled with his fanship of various sweet-tasting food items and sports, it just looks insane.

But isn’t this what we all do during and after a death?  When my father was dying, after all, it’s not as if I didn’t think about food or go to the bathroom or go about my daily life throughout the whole thing.  But these aspects of my life were invisible, stretched over long periods of time, and undocumented.  If a computer had been hooked to my brain, and every thought would end up recorded as a post, I would not be surprised at all if, immediately following my father’s death, I may have had a stray thought about ice cream, or puppies, or updating my blog.  My own stream of consciousness would look just as ridiculous and silly.

So maybe what makes this Facebook death so interesting and morbidly funny is that we can all see ourselves in it as it magnifies the trivialities that we all dwell on—Saint Gasoline became a fan of Pizza Hut—even at the most traumatic and important moments of our lives.