Much has been written about (and especially against) atheism, and much has been written by Ayn Rand and her followers. Yet, this book by George Smith manages to entice the reader from page one right to (almost) the end of the last essay. The book is divided into three parts, which exactly reflect the title. There are eight essays on atheism, three on Rand, and six on a miscellaneous bag of topics (the "other" heresies). I will spend most of my time here on the first two parts, the last part receiving my only negative note about the book. There is nothing wrong in collecting essays in book format (witness the deserved success of Stephen Gould’s books), but it has to be done with a certain logic. Obviously, Smith himself couldn’t find a better common thread for the third part of his book and had to resort to the vague adjective of "heresies". No doubt the essays themselves are either interesting (like the one on the "real" Herbert Spencer), or at least touch upon potentially interesting topics (e.g., justice entrepreneurship in a free market). But the ensemble sounds more like a bunch of solo musicians gone astray at the same time than like the harmonious chamber group they could have been.
Smith came to write about atheism while reassessing his life in Los Angeles, where he was trying to make a living in the unusual occupation of freelance philosopher. A friend who didn’t want to lose him through relocation got him a book deal to write about atheism. That contract gave origin to Smith’s most complete treatment of the subject, Atheism: the Case Against God. But we come to know this story at the very beginning of Other Heresies, thanks to a charming and witty summary of Smith’s personal path toward non-belief in a supernatural creator of the universe. I am sure that many readers will either identify with or will be horrified at the sequence of events that brought Smith to embrace atheism. From an upbringing in a vaguely believing family to his first "epistemological crisis" at age ten; from his discussions with his mother about the untimely death of his older sister to discontinuing church attendance even when he still considered himself a Christian.
I cannot resist the temptation of giving the reader a small taste of Smith’s humor, unfortunately present only in part of the book. After a band practice one day he was "accosted by an obnoxious trombone player who had recently found Jesus." That was the first time he openly expressed his doubts with somebody else, and survived the experience. But what most dissuaded him from Christianity was the eye-opening experience of actually reading the Bible, since "like many devout Christians, I had never read the entire Bible". He then embarked upon a new life of debates and philosophy.
Smith’s final apostasy (from unwavering patriotism) came when he saw a picture of American soldiers in Vietnam holding the decapitated heads of enemy soldiers:
I looked more closely. "Surely," I reasoned, with impeccable paternal and Randian logic, "this photograph must be a fake. No American could possibly pose for a picture like this." Those young American GIs were virtual prototypes of the decent Americans I had grown up with. ...
I examined the photograph for at least an hour after returning home. The severed heads and hands were gruesome enough, but that is not what disturbed me the most. The three baby-faced American soldiers could have come from the Iowa heartland, the birthplace of my father. That was the horror.
There is very little I can add to underscore the power of these few lines.
The chapter entitled "Atheism and the virtue of reasonableness" can be interpreted as a brief, witty, and very useful guide on how to deal with different kinds of theists, from rational ones to the "aggressive irrationalists." The latter category, as Smith points out, are not worth engaging with on a one-to-one basis, because they simply won’t listen to any rational argument. But they may merit your time if there is an audience that includes at least some people who are not blindly committed to faith. In general, Smith’s suggestion is an excellent one: practice the intellectual version of jujitsu, the ancient oriental combat art based on the idea of using your opponent’s strength (and arguments, in this case) to your own advantage. Make ‘em look foolish, but politely.
A very sobering chapter (for the theist) is the one dedicated to "Philosophies of toleration". There, Smith traces the history and philosophical debate of the early Christians, showing how they rapidly went from a pluralistic, tolerant group to one entrenched in rigid dogmatism and intent in a fierce prosecution of "heretics" which would have disturbed even the Romans.
Early Christians such as Lactantius and Tertullian believed that faith should be given and received freely, that violence cannot instill truth in anybody’s heart. But such policies came to be seen (probably with reason) as endangering the survival of Christianity itself. Accordingly, Augustine defended "righteous persecution", and the curious idea that not forcing someone into the Catholic faith is tantamount to cruelty!
Of course, Augustine only marked the beginning of a multi-centennial trend. The Emperor Charlemagne decreed that the Saxons should choose between baptism and death, and massacres were inflicted upon Christians in Cologne as well as on Muslim infidels. When the Albigensians were finally defeated, the papal legate was asked if orthodox Catholics should be spared. He replied by ordering to kill everybody "for God knows his own." In fact, according to Thomas Aquinas, heretic Christians should be punished more harshly than unbelievers, because they are a more direct threat to the faith (possibly because there are so many more of them than atheists...).
A chapter of the first part of the book is devoted to the deist attack against revealed religion. The deist movement is indeed a peculiar one. Some of the chief freethinkers of all time, such as Voltaire and Thomas Paine, counted themselves as deists. The deistic position might be simply stated as "god created the universe and then retired". God’s presence is revealed to us by reading the book of nature, not by blindly accepting the content of any "sacred" scripture. As such, deism is for many the first (or second) step toward complete agnosticism or even atheism, as well as a much firmer philosophical position than theism. Spinoza and Locke (while technically non-deists) also join a fascinating parade of characters that Smith displays and discusses in an impressive piece of scholarship. And speaking of scholarship, while the last chapter in the first part of Other Heresies is anything but entertaining reading, it surely provides us with an incredible list of freethought literature which cannot fail to provide the basis for a more than complete understanding of atheism, agnosticism, secularism, and several other "isms" associated with this movement.
For some reason that I do not totally understand, the first chapter dedicated to Ayn Rand and her school of thought actually starts with a very clear discussion of different types of atheism (and should therefore belong to the first part of the book). Smith’s classification is fascinating, and it deserves a separate essay to be properly investigated. He enumerates ethical, psychological, sociological, pragmatic, metaphysical, and epistemological forms of atheism. Smith devotes more space to an in-depth discussion of epistemological atheism, which he further subdivides into skeptical, logical-positivist, linguistic, and objectivist. His laurel goes, of course, to the latter (the type espoused by Ayn Rand). Now, while I may agree that objectivist epistemological atheism is on firmer grounds than other forms of philosophical non-belief, I think that it can be reasonably argued that an atheist who uses the best components of all (or most) of the other forms would certainly be better off. Plurality has its own advantages. Furthermore, to write "Ayn Rand may be said to have written God’s epitaph. And this time there will be no resurrection" sounds cute, but it may be giving to Rand much more than she actually deserves.
The other two chapters of the second part of Smith’s book represent a fascinating insight not only into Rand’s philosophy and character, but also into the soul of one of her ex-followers (Smith himself). I don’t know what it is with Rand, but she seems to inspire a common reaction in many skeptics, from personal friends of mine to skeptic-at-large Michael Shermer. Many people have read her work, fallen into a semi-religious adoration of her personality, and then suddenly snapped out of it when they came of age (philosophically speaking). They all seem to retain a dual attitude similar to what many of us reserve for our first love: it was unforgettable because it was the first, but things got so much better with a little more experience!
Smith’s portrayal of Rand in these two chapters is paradigmatic of the dualism she inspires in many skeptics. The chapter entitled "Ayn Rand: philosophy and controversy" attempts to glorify Rand as an original and insightful philosopher. Even though Smith admits that most of her ideas had indeed been proposed centuries (sometimes millennia) before her, he lauds her for discovering them independently. This is apparently because she was not even self-trained or minimally versed in academic philosophy (hey, apparently deliberate ignorance can open a door to immortality, but I’m sure you already gathered that by watching TV). The chapter "Objectivism as a religion" is both a fascinating discussion of the foundation of ethics and strong disavowal of Rand’s most ardent supporters. I have to admit that I am too late for being an ex-Randian (and the fact that I was raised in a country that never experienced a Randian cult doesn’t help either). I am told that she was very influential and I certainly believe that. A friend of mine even convinced me to read one of her books once. I was not impressed, as I am not impressed by Smith’s arguments in this case. I think that a fair characterization of Rand would be an interesting and controversial writer, who happened to stumble upon some previously formulated philosophical principles a bit too late in the history of human thought. She made the most of her "rediscoveries", sometimes in an intelligent manner, at other times in an outrageously stupid one. A very canny dilettante, an enfant terrible who never grew up. Her truer legacy probably lies in shaking up people like Smith and Shermer, who are seriously contributing to modern skeptic thought.
All in all, certainly a book that should be in any rationalist’s library, and from which many people could learn not only the virtues of critical thinking, but also the equally important one of sense of humor. Smith is not afraid of contradictions, even in his own thinking. That’s the way the world is. The important thing is to keep thinking, and not being afraid of confronting (and sometimes living) what other people might call "heresies".