The Rio Stanton Report

Tag: New Atheists

  • What Went Wrong With the Atheist Movement

    What Went Wrong With the Atheist Movement

    One of the ongoing debates about the atheist movement of the 2000s and early 2010s is whether it “collapsed” because it became too politically progressive or “too woke.”

    I don’t think that explanation holds up.

    In my view, the real problem with the movement was something else entirely: it contained a significant number of reactionary voices, particularly white male commentators, who eventually stopped hiding their hostility toward women, marginalized communities, and racial minorities.

    For a while, those tensions remained mostly beneath the surface. But when controversies like Elevatorgate, Gamergate, and similar disputes erupted, they exposed cultural problems that had been developing inside the movement for years.

    Regardless of where one stood on the details of those specific incidents, they represented opportunities for reflection and self-examination.

    Unfortunately, many of us (including myself) responded defensively rather than thoughtfully.

    Instead of listening to people who felt alienated or marginalized within atheist spaces, the dominant reaction in many circles was to dismiss their concerns, mock them, or accuse them of trying to impose political correctness on what was supposed to be a rationalist community.

    In hindsight, that response made things worse.

    Atheism itself is simply a position on one question: whether gods exist. But movements built around atheism inevitably become social communities, and communities bring their own cultural dynamics.

    When those dynamics include arrogance, hostility, or a lack of empathy, people eventually notice.

    The uncomfortable truth is that many of us behaved like self-important gatekeepers who were quick to criticize religion but much slower to examine our own toxic attitudes and behavior.

    The movement’s credibility suffered as a result.

    Looking back, it’s clear that moments of conflict within the atheist community could have been growth opportunities. They could have encouraged more thoughtful conversations about inclusion, respect, and how a community built around skepticism should treat the people within it.

    Instead, too often, those conversations devolved into hostility and factionalism.

    If there is a lesson to take from that period, it is a simple one: skepticism should not only apply to religious beliefs.

    It should also apply to our own behavior.

  • When I Disagreed With the New Atheists

    When I Disagreed With the New Atheists

    Years ago, I wrote about a debate that took place on Real Time with Bill Maher between Yasiin Bey (formerly Mos Def) on one side and Bill Maher and Christopher Hitchens on the other. The topic, unsurprisingly, was the September 11 attacks and the broader question of Islam.

    At the time, I was widely known among my peers as an atheist thinker and leader. I would jokingly refer to myself as “the atheist.” Because of that, many people expected me to side with Maher and Hitchens. Both men were major figures in the New Atheist movement, and their criticism of religion (especially Islam) was widely embraced within those circles.

    But I found myself agreeing with Yasiin Bey.

    The reason was simple: I have never trusted the United States government’s justifications for many of the wars and military actions it has undertaken since World War II. History provides too many examples of misleading narratives, exaggerated threats, or outright falsehoods used to justify military intervention.

    I was also uncomfortable with the way Muslims were being singled out as uniquely dangerous.

    Most Muslims are not violent extremists. In my own life, I have known many Muslims, and they are as diverse in their beliefs, practices, and interpretations of their religion as Christians or Jews are.

    As a Black American, I also could not ignore another historical reality: my community has experienced far more terrorism from people identifying as Christians than from Muslims. Groups like the Ku Klux Klan cloaked themselves in Christian imagery and language while carrying out campaigns of terror against Black Americans.

    That history makes it difficult for me to accept arguments that treat Islam as uniquely violent while giving Christianity or Judaism a pass for the actions of their worst adherents.

    Maher and Hitchens often insisted that extremist Muslim groups represented something intrinsic to Islam itself. Yet when confronted with violent or extremist groups within Christianity, such as the KKK or Christian Identity movements, they were much quicker to argue that those groups were distortions of the religion rather than expressions of it.

    That double standard always bothered me.

    If organizations like ISIS or Al-Qaeda are considered perversions of Islam (and I believe they are), then the same intellectual honesty should be applied when discussing extremist groups that claim Christian identity.

    At the time, my position drew criticism from some of my fellow atheists. Many people in the New Atheist movement treated Maher and Hitchens almost as intellectual heroes, and disagreeing with them was not always well received.

    But I have always believed that intellectual honesty matters more than tribal loyalty.

    I still respect both Maher and Hitchens for their role in normalizing atheism and encouraging people to question religious authority. Their contributions to secular thought are significant.

    But admiration does not require agreement.

    Even then, I could see that their criticism of religion, particularly Islam, sometimes crossed the line from critique into something that felt more like cultural hostility at best and bigotry at worst.

    Looking back now, I feel even more confident in the position I took at the time.

    Sometimes the most honest place to stand is not with your allies or your critics, but simply where the evidence and your own conscience lead you.