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sugarmarbles21 · 7 months

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Anyone know where one could find more maps of Palestine before 1948?

Lately I have been curious about how Palestine looked before the British decided to give a hunk of their land to the Jewish immigrants so they could found Israel and I had problems finding information on the internet. Don’t know if I just didn’t try hard enough, but with their deal with google, I thought Israel might try to bury any maps of the area before they were founded so to erase any mentions of Palestine so I went to the local library(hope that they never disappear) and I found what I was looking for. When I compared those maps to one of modern Israel, I was surprised, and at the same time not, how much of the land they had taken from Palestine. Though anyone could probably guess that from how Gaza and the West Bank are separated by Israel like an inland ocean despite belonging to the same country. That makes me angry because of how much the West took from Palestine and didn’t even consider if they could take that many immigrants? That area is not that big and most of these people have never been to Palestine before! Also, I have read from many sources that the area has been Palestine since the Roman Empire occupied it, maybe even before then! And to top it off, despite having been conquered by different countries and empires, the area has never really changed name! Meaning that despite what the zionists say, Jerusalem is a Palestinian city and you can tell that from their history and culture. Palestine has a mix of Muslims, Christians and Jews and probably more and that’s what Jerusalem is supposed to be about! To be a city where people of these religions can come together and pray. To live together and be able to practice their faith without discrimination! Does that sound like the occupied Jerusalem that you know today?

Israel has poisoned this great city for their own pride by treating it like a trophy instead of a place of worship and they are not the only ones. Maybe the Palestinians have been the only ones who have never seen the city like something to be owned and cared about being able to visit it and pray there. If you ask me the Israeli shouldn’t have Jerusalem, not just because I think it should be given back to Palestine, but because they don’t understand its importance to every practicing Muslim, Jew and Christian and why it exists.

Sorry about the soap box speech when I asked you about maps, it just had been on my mind this week. If you think I’m just pulling this out of a hat, one of maps I used is from the book “atlas of world history” so you can check it out for yourself.

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 11 months

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By: Anonymous

Published: Oct 16, 2023

When my first son claimed he was trans, I eagerly ‘affirmed’ him. When his three-year-old brother decided he wanted to be trans, too, I realized I’d made a terrible mistake.

I was a social-justice organizer and facilitator before social justice took over the progressive world. I was at the nascent movement’s forefront, introducing the concept of intersectionality to organizations and asking people to share their pronouns.

My friends and I felt like we were the cool kids, on the vanguard of the revolutionary wave that would change the world. We were going to achieve what people in that milieu call “collective liberation.”

Within this context, I came out as a lesbian and identified as queer. I also fell in love, entered a committed relationship, and gave birth to a son. Two years later, my spouse gave birth to our second son.

Having children and experiencing the love and devotion I felt toward them, was a game changer for me. I began to experience internal tensions. My thinking was split between what I felt instinctively as a mother; and what I “should” be feeling and doing as a white anti-racist social-justice parent.

Because I’d felt victimized by my parents’ rejection of my sexuality, I wanted to make sure to honor my own children’s “authentic” selves. In particular, I was primed to look for any clues that might suggest they could be transgender.

My spouse and I raised our sons with gender-neutral clothes, toys, and language. While we used he/him pronouns, and others called them boys, we did not call them boys, or even tell them that they were boys.

In our everyday reading of books or descriptions of people in our lives, we did not say “man” or “woman”; we said “people.” We thought we were doing the right thing, both for them and for the world.

Even when our first son was still young, he already struck us as different from other boys—being both extremely gifted and unusually sensitive. By age three or so, he started to orient more toward the females in his life than the males. “I like the mamas,” he would say.

We started to attribute some of this difference to the possibility that he was transgender. Instead of orienting him toward the reality of his biological sex by telling him he was a boy, we wanted him to tell us if he felt he was a boy or a girl. As true believers, we thought that we should “follow his lead” to determine his true identity.

At the same time, I was taking a deep dive into the field of attachment and child development. This made me understand that attachment is hierarchical; and that parents, not children, are meant to be in the lead. This obviously conflicted with my insistence on letting my child decide his gender. Sadly, it was the latter impulse that won the day.

At around age four, my son began to ask me if he was a boy or a girl. I told him he could choose. I didn’t use those words—I imagined that I was taking a more sophisticated approach. I told him, “When babies are born with a penis, they are called boys, and when babies are born with a vagina, they are called girls. But some babies who are born with a penis can be girls, and some babies born with a vagina can be boys. It all depends on what you feel deep inside.”

He continued to ask me what he was, and I continued to repeat these lines. I’d resolved my inner conflict by “leading” my son with this framework. Or so I told myself.

His question, and my response to it, would come back to haunt me. In fact, I remain haunted to this day. To the extent I was “leading” my son anywhere, it was down a path of lies—an on-ramp to psychological damage and irreversible medical interventions. All in the name of love, acceptance, and liberation.

About six months later, he told my spouse that he was a girl and wanted to be called “sister” and “she/her.” I received a text message about this at work. On the way home that night, I resolved to put all my own feelings away and support my transgender child. And that is what I did.

We told him he could be a girl. He jumped up and down on the bed, happily saying, “I’m a girl, I’m a girl!” We—not our son—initiated changing his name. We socially transitioned him and enforced this transition with his younger brother, who was then only two years old and could barely pronounce his older brother’s real name.

When I look back at this, it is almost too much to write about. How could a mother do this to her child? To her children?

Once we made this decision, we received resounding praise and affirmation from most of our peers. One of my friends, who’d also socially transitioned her young child, assured me that this was a healthy, neutral way to allow children to “explore” their gender identity before puberty, when decisions would have to be made about puberty blockers and hormones.

We sought out support groups for parents of transgender children, so that we could find out if we’d done the “right thing.” It hadn’t escaped my notice that our son hadn’t exhibited any signs of actual gender dysphoria. Was he actually transgender?

At these support groups, we were told, again, what good parents we were. We were also told that kids on the autism spectrum (which our son likely is) are gender savants who simply know they are transgender earlier than other kids.

At one of the support groups we attended, we were also told that transgender identity takes a few years to develop in children. The gender therapist running things told us that during this period, it’s important to protect the child’s transgender self-conception—which meant eliminating all contact with family or friends who didn’t support the idea that our son was a girl. I believed her.

Looking back, I now see her comments in a shockingly different light: this was part of an intentional process of concretizing transgender identity in children who are much too young to know themselves in any definitive way. (One set of parents attending the group had a child who was just three years old.) When identity is “affirmed” in this manner, children will grow up believing they are actually the opposite sex.

The therapist endorsed the same approach that many adolescents use on their parents, who are urged to write letters to grandparents, aunts, and uncles to announce the child’s transgender identity. In these letters, the conditions of continued social engagement are made clear: Recipients must use the new name and new pronouns, and embrace the new identity, or they will be denied contact with the child.

After about a year of social transition for our older son, our younger son, who was by now only three years old, began to say he was a girl, too. This came as a complete shock to us. None of the things that made our older son “different” applied to our younger son. He was more of a stereotypical boy and didn’t show the same affinity for the feminine side of things that his older brother did.

The urge for “sameness” is a primal attachment drive in many family members. We felt that our younger son’s assertion of being a girl likely reflected his desire to be like his older sibling, in order to feel connected to him.

His claim to be a girl became more insistent when both brothers went to school part-time, because their program included pronoun sharing. Why could the older sibling be a “she” when the younger sibling couldn’t? Our younger son became more insistent, and we became more distressed.

We made an appointment to see the gender therapist whom we’d met at the support group. We truly believed that she would be able to help us sort out who, if anyone, was actually transgender.

To our shock, the therapist immediately began referring to our younger son as “she,” stating that whatever pronouns a young child wants to use are the pronouns that must be used.

She patronizingly assured us that it might take us more time to adjust, since parents have a hard time with this sort of thing. She added that it was transphobic to believe there was anything wrong with our younger son wanting to be like his older transgender sibling.

When I pushed back and asserted that I wasn’t yet convinced our younger son was in fact transgender, she told me that if I failed to change his pronouns and honor his newly announced identity, he could develop an attachment disorder.

We were unconvinced. But, again, we wanted to do what was right for our son and for the world. We decided to tell him he could be a girl. And that night at dinner, we told him that we would call him “she/her.”

Right after dinner, I went to play an imaginary game with him, and I wanted to be affirming. So I put a big, warm smile on my face and said, “Hi, my girl!”

At this, my younger son stopped, looked at me, and said, “No, mama. Don’t call me that.” His reaction pierced me to my core. I didn’t turn back after that.

For the next two years, my partner and I dug deeper, agonized, and then continued digging again. Everything we thought we knew or believed that had led us to socially transition our older son began to unravel.

I continued to study the attachment-based developmental approach to parenting and learned more about autism and hypersensitivity. We decided not to socially transition our younger son. Not only was he not transgender, we now realized, but our older son probably wasn’t either.

He was just a highly sensitive, likely autistic boy who saw a girl identity as a form of psychic protection. It also provided him a way of attaching to me through sameness.

My spouse and I decided that since we’d been the ones who’d led him down this path, we were the ones who needed to lead him off of it.

A year ago, just before our older son’s eighth birthday, we did just that. And while the initial change was hard—incredibly hard—the strongest emotion exhibited by our son turned out to be relief.

In the days following my first conversation with him about going back to his birth name and pronouns, during which I told him that males cannot be females and that we were wrong to tell him he could choose to be a girl, he got very mad at me, then sad. Then, the next day, I felt my son rest. I felt him release a burden, an adult burden that he, as a child, was never meant to carry.

Since that time, we’ve all been healing. My son is now happy and thriving. We’ve watched him come to a deeper peace with himself as a boy.

Our younger son is also thriving. Once his older brother became his older brother again, he happily, and almost immediately, settled into his identity as a boy.

I feel like someone who’s escaped a cult—a cult whose belief system is supported by our mainstream culture, the Internet, and even the state.

I fear for the future—the future of sensitive, feminine, socially awkward boys. I fear what the world will tell them about who they are.

But no matter what the future holds, I will never ever stop fighting to protect my sons. I am no longer a true believer.

#gender ideology #queer theory #genderwang #gender cult #social transition #autism #social justice #critical social justice #affirmation model #gender affirming #gender affirmation #trans identity #gender identity #child psychology #religion is a mental illness

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menlove · 3 months

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the way my autism latched on the beatles age 12 and has just constantly had it as one of my like. 3.5 special interests. truly embarrassing things happening in this world to gods most autistic warriors.

#bc there's a difference between hyperfixation and special interest for me #and special interests have always exclusively been non fandom #like my most long lasting one is religion #there's also social justice & child development/education #and the thing is. those three. are useful!!!!#those three I can sound smart when I talk about them and I have a degree in two of them!#the fucking beatles though? am I gonna get a degree in beatles history? beatles yaoi?#get real.

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racheldi · 2 years

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#jews and judaism #jew stuff #jewish people #jewblr #jewish things #antisemitism #Jesus #jesus of nazareth #christianity #religion #sjw #intersectional social justice #social justice #intersectionality #intersectionalfeminism #allyship

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whereserpentswalk · 6 months

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"Atheists/Pagans/Witches are cringe sometimes" and "A vast plurality of the Christian community support genocide as part of their religious belief" are not in fact similar issues, nor do they make the two sides equally bad.

Non Christan anger is anger at the fact that we're marginalized in a Christian world. Christian anger is anger at the fact that they believe non-Christians (and usually a bunch of other groups) have more rights than they'd like. Just because both express anger at the state of the world does not mean they're the same.

"All strong religious beliefs, or political goals tied to religious beliefs are the same" is something that assumes an entirely individualistic world of pure philosophy, which isn't the world we live in. You just can't view the things non-Christians say and do, and the things Christians do, as the same, in a society where Christianity is so dominant.

Like, an atheist saying they hate their Christian family members probably is saying that because they're a threat to their safety. A Christian saying they hate their atheist family members hates them because they believe they shouldn't have rights. They aren't the same.

We need to stop having this hyper-individualist view of religion, and we need to stop acting like religion exists in a philosophical void. The rights of non-Christians have been put aside for the feelings of Christians for far too long, even among people critical of other systems of oppression.

Edit: I put some atheist tags because I feel like this is as relevant to them as it is to me. However, if there's any tags religious people shouldn't put on their posts please tell me.

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bli-o · 2 months

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I dunno i just feel like social justice movements have completely left behind atheists and agnostics and just secular people generally ESPECIALLY apostates

#also religious freedoms generally #children are still forced into religious practices they don’t consent to by their parents and no one cares idk #atheism #secularism #agnosticism #athiest #secular #agnostic #apostate #social justice #social issues #religion

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justalittlesolarpunk · 8 months

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You mentioned that you are pagan? Or interested in that side of things? How so, if I may? :)

I'm pagan (non denominational goddess worship) and I'm growing more interested in ecology and everything encompassed in solar punk, so I'm interested to hear how your interest coincides with being/interest in paganism

Hi! Yes. I’m still very much just dipping my toe into paganism, so I use the term loosely as I don’t feel informed enough yet to be more specific. I’m interested by neo-Druidry and drawn to Celtic Polytheism, but mainly because it’s most compatible with my heritage, not because it seems more right or true than any other pagan belief system I’ve come across.

I call myself a pagan because I believe that the matter of the earth itself is what is sacred, that the world is full of gods older than any of the names we have given them, inhabiting the water and the rocks, the trees and the soil, the animals and the herbs. I guess you could say ecology is my religion in some senses - the way everything fits together in harmony, from the Wood Wide Web to the salmon run, never fails to make me feel close to the divine.

For me personally, my paganism is very close to solarpunk. I’m a solarpunk because I think living in harmony with the earth is sacred. I’m a pagan because I think saving the planet requires all aspects of our lives and selves. And vice versa, if that makes sense. Now of course, I’m sure there are many deeply committed, principled and hardworking solarpunks who are atheists, agnostic, humanists, Christians, Jewish, Muslims, Hindus, Sikhs, Jains, Buddhists, Baha’is and Zoroastrians, or who follow indigenous spiritualities, and I think all these belief systems are compatible in their own way with solarpunk (which actually has a lot in common with an apocatastatic religion but don’t get my theology nerd brain started on that). But for me, I couldn’t conceive of being a pagan and not a solarpunk too, or a solarpunk and not some sort of nature worshipper. But religion is very personal.

Hope this explains ok - my feelings around faith are very blobby and hard to verbalise 😅😆

#solarpunk #hopepunk #environmentalism #cottagepunk #social justice #community #optimism #bright future #climate justice #tidalpunk #lunarpunk #neopaganism #religion #ecosystem #ecology #nature religion #ecopagan

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crownspeaksblog · 10 months

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You know what i hate, you know what makes me angry.. tiktoks of middle-eastern/muslim/arab men dancing and not just any dancing, but dancing where they move their ass, hips and whatever the fuck.

Because when men make these videos, most of the comments, hype them up and generally are positive, but when girls and women make these kinds of videos, most of the comments will be about how they don't have respect for themselves or god, most of the comments will be of people, not just men (mostly men tho) saying vile, awful and just negative shit in general! Sadly however, some girls and women get more than shitty comments.. some of them get fucking murdered for dancing on tiktok and sometimes not even for dancing.

A few months ago, where I'm from, a father bashed his 10 year old daughter's skull and killed her because she accidentally published a tiktok video.. because apparently he believes women bring shame...

Oh and by the way, this is not just a cultural thing, this is 100% religions fault! Religion has a problem with women/girls bodys, they shouldn't show it, they should cover it, fully and not accentuate it in any way shape or form! Why? Because god said so (also because men might have sinful thoughts...)

So yeah, I'll absolutely be that person who comments on these videos pointing out the double standards!

#this is my monthly episode of “i hate men and religion too” lol #yeah i saw a man swaying his ass for shits and giggles and i got angry..#womens rights #ex muslim #feminism #social justice #womens liberation #just a rant #👑

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wildfeather5002 · 2 months

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What do y'all say to christians who are like "Well, I think that [insert a paragraph about non-christian people going to hell if they don't 'repent', or in other words, abandon their 'ungodly' culture, traditions, religion, sexual orientation etc.]" and when you call them out for it they just reply with "It's not like I'm advocating for forcing people into anything, I'm only voicing my opinion regarding non-christians' cultural practices & lifestyle. You're a threat to my free speech!" ?

It always makes me feel iffy when people say stuff like this, because bigoted talking points & rhetoric can cause harm too, not just the usage of violent force. But also it's wrong to forcefully silence anyone, even if they're bigoted, right? Harmful talking points are kinda like toxic liquids, it's damn near impossible to get rid of them by force (the toxic sludge will only spread everywhere & poison people if you try to beat it!), but debunking, giving counterpoints & raising awareness will 'neutralize' these toxins and make them harmless, or less harmful at least!

That's what I think about it. I could be wrong though, idk really...

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 7 months

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By; Andrew Doyle

Published: Feb 28, 2024

Many years ago I gave a talk at the London Metropolitan Archives in which I outlined my reasons for rejecting the then fashionable theory of social constructionism in relation to human sexuality. In the coffee break that followed, I was approached by a lesbian activist, who claimed to have chosen her orientation as a means to oppose the patriarchy. She demanded to know why I would not accept that sexuality had no biological basis, even though I had spent the best part of an hour answering this very question. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘but I’ve already explained why I don’t agree with you’. ‘But why won’t you agree?’ she shouted in response. ‘Why?’

Primary school teachers are familiar with such frustrated pleas. The anger of children is so often connected with incomprehension, a sense of injustice, or both. When it persists into adulthood it represents a failure of socialisation. We frequently hear talk of our degraded political discourse – and there is some truth to that – but really we are dealing with mass infantilism. Its impact is evident wherever one cares to look: online, in the media, even in Parliament. Argumentation is so often reduced to a matter of tribal loyalty; whether one is right or wrong becomes secondary to the satisfaction of one’s ego through the submission of an opponent. This is not, as some imagine, simply a consequence of the ubiquity of social media, but rather a general failure over a number of years to instil critical thinking at every level of our educational institutions.

To be a freethinker has little to do with mastery of rhetoric and everything to do with introspection. It is all very well engaging in a debate in order to refine our persuasive skills, but it is a futile exercise unless we can entertain the possibility that we might be wrong. In Richard Dawkins’s book, The God Delusion (2006), he relates an anecdote about his time as an undergraduate at Oxford. A visiting academic from America gave a talk on the Golgi apparatus, a microscopic organelle found in plant and animal cells, and in doing so provided incontrovertible evidence of its existence. An elderly member of the Zoology Department, who had asserted for many years that the Golgi apparatus was a myth, was present at the lecture. Dawkins relates how, as the speaker drew to a close, ‘The old man strode to the front of the hall, shook the American by the hand and said – with passion – “My dear fellow, I wish to thank you. I have been wrong these fifteen years.” We clapped our hands red’.

This is the ideal that so few embody, particularly when it comes to the unexamined tenets of political ideology. We often see examples of media commentators or politicians being discredited in interviews or discussions, but how often do we see them concede their errors, even when they are exposed beyond doubt? There is a very good reason why the sociologist and philosopher Herbert Spencer opened his First Principles (1862) by asserting that there exists ‘a soul of truth in things erroneous’; but such concessions can only be made by those who are able to prioritise being right over being seen to be right. Too many are seemingly determined to turn difficult arguments into zero-sum games in which to give any ground whatsoever is to automatically surrender it to an opponent.

The discipline of critical thinking invites us to consider the origins of our knowledge and convictions. A man may speak with the certainty of an Old Testament prophet, but has he reached his conclusions for himself? Or is he a mere resurrectionist, plundering his bookshelves for the leather-bound corpses of other people’s ideas? Hazlitt expounded at length on how sophistry might be mistaken for critical faculties, noting that the man who sees only one half of a subject may still be able to express it fluently. ‘You might as well ask the paralytic to leap from his chair and throw away his crutch,’ he wrote, ‘as expect the learned reader to throw down his book and think for himself. He clings to it for his intellectual support; and his dread of being left to himself is like the horror of a vacuum’.

The natural human instinct for confirmation bias presents a further problem, one especially prominent among ideologues. Anything can be taken to bolster one’s position so long as it is perceived through the lens of prejudgment. We can see this most notably in the proponents of Critical Social Justice, who start from the premise that unequal outcomes – disparities in average earnings between men and women, for instance – are evidence of structural inequalities in society. They are beginning with the conclusion and working backwards, mistaking their own arguments for proof.

Worse still, such an approach often correlates with a distinctly moralistic standpoint. Many of the most abusive individuals on social media cannot recognise their behaviour for what it is because they have cast themselves in the role of the virtuous. If we are morally good, the logic goes, it must be assumed that our detractors are motivated by evil and we are therefore relieved of the obligation to treat them as human beings. What they lack in empathy they make up in their capacity for invective.

Again, we must be alert to the danger of cheapening argumentation and analysis to the mere satisfaction of ego. One of the reasons why disagreements on social media tend towards the bellicose is that the forum is public. Where there is an audience, there is always the risk that critical thinking will be subordinated to the performative desire for victory or the humiliation of a rival. In these circumstances, complexities that require a nuanced approach are refashioned into misleading binaries, and opponents are mischaracterised out of all recognition so that people effectively end up arguing with spectres of their imagination. The Socratic method, by contrast, urges us to see disputation as essentially cooperative. This is the ideal that should be embedded into our national curricula. Children need to be taught that there are few instances in which serious discussions can be simplified to a matter of right or wrong, and fewer still in which one person’s rightness should be taken as proof of another’s wrongness. In the lexicon of Critical Thinking, this is called the fallacy of ‘affirming a disjunct’; that is to say, ‘either you are right or I am right, which means that if you are wrong I must be right’. One cannot think critically in such reductionist terms.

To attempt seriously to understand an alternative worldview involves, as Bertrand Russell put it, ‘some effort of thought, and most people would die sooner than think’. In the study of psychology this is termed the ‘cognitive miser’ model, which acknowledges that most human brains will favour the easiest solution to any given problem. These mental shortcuts – known as heuristics – are hardwired into us, which is why being told what to think is more pleasurable than thinking for ourselves. I remember an English lesson in which I had initiated a discussion with my students about the representation of Satan in Milton’s Paradise Lost, a topic that routinely comes up in exams. I wanted to know what they thought, and why. One student was sufficiently bold to ask: ‘Can’t you just tell us what we need to write to get the highest marks?’

This was not the fault of the student; there has been a trend in recent years, most likely influenced by the pressures of league tables, for schools to engage in ‘spoon-feeding’. Schemes of work and assessment criteria are made readily available to the pupils so that they can systematically hit the necessary targets in order to elevate their grades. The notion of education for education’s sake no longer carries any weight. I have even seen talented pupils marked down by moderators for an excess of individuality in their answers. In such circumstances, even a subject like English Literature can be reduced to a kind of memory test in which essays are regurgitated by rote.

It is hardly surprising, then, that pupils who opt for Critical Thinking courses at GCSE or A-level often perceive it to be a light option, a means to enhance the curriculum vitae without too much exertion. Courses are generally divided into Problem Solving and Critical Thinking, the former concerned with processing and interpreting data, and the latter covering the fundamentals of analysis and argumentation. Pupils learn about common fallacies such as the ad hominem (personal attack), tu quoque (counter-attack) and post hoc, ergo propter hoc (mistaking correlation for causality), along with others derived from Aristotle’s Sophistical Refutations. The Latin may be off-putting, but in truth these are simple ideas which are readily digestible. If one were to discount arguments in which these fallacies were committed, virtually all online disputes would disappear.

That said, the existence of Critical Thinking as an academic subject in its own right might not be the best way to achieve this. As the psychologist Daniel T. Willingham has argued, cognitive abilities are redundant without secure contextual knowledge. Critical thinking is already embedded into any pedagogical practice that focuses on how to think rather than what to think. The increased influence of the new puritans in education presents a problem in this regard, given that they are particularly hostile to divergent viewpoints. Any institution which becomes ideologically driven is unlikely to successfully foster critical thinking, and this is particularly the case when teachers are at times expected to proselytise in accordance with fashionable identity politics. The depoliticisation of schools is just the first step. Critical thinking requires humility; this involves not just the ability to admit that one might be wrong, but also to recognise that an uninformed opinion is worthless, however stridently expressed. Interpretative skills are key, but only when developed on a secure foundation of subject-specific knowledge. This is the basis for Camille Paglia’s view that art history should be built into the national curriculum from primary school level. In her book, Glittering Images (2012), Paglia explains that children require ‘a historical framework of objective knowledge about art’, rather than merely treating art as ‘therapeutic praxis’ to ‘unleash children’s hidden creativity’. Potato prints and zigzag scissors have their place, but we mustn’t forget about the textbooks.

When I was a part-time English teacher at a private secondary school for girls in London, one of my favourite exercises for the younger pupils was to ask them to study a photograph of a well-known work of art for five minutes without speaking, after which time they would share their observations with the rest of the class. So, for instance, I would give them each a copy of Paul Delaroche’s ‘Les Enfants d’Edouard’ (1831), which depicts the two nephews of Richard III in their chamber in the Tower of London just prior to their murder. My pupils knew nothing of the historical context, but after minutes of silent consideration were able to pick out details – the ominous shadows under the door, the dog alerted to the assassins’ footfall, how the older boy stares out at us with a sense of resignation – and offer some personal reflections on their cumulative impact. To create, one must first learn how to interpret.

The kind of humility fostered in the appreciation of great art could act as a corrective to the rise of narcissism and decline of empathy that psychologists have observed over the past thirty years. According to the National Institutes of Health, millennials are three times more likely to suffer from narcissistic personality disorder than those of the baby boomer generation. Writers such as Peter Whittle, Robert Putnam and Shaylyn Romney Garrett have traced the rise of hyper-individualism in Western culture. One particular study revealed that in 1950 only 12 per cent of respondents agreed with the statement ‘I am a very important person’. By 1990, this figure had risen to 80 per cent and the trajectory shows no signs of stopping. One of the ways in which this trend manifests itself is the now common tendency for arguments to deteriorate into accusations of dishonesty. After all, it takes an extreme form of egotism to assume that the only possible explanation for an alternative point of view is that one’s opponent must be lying. In order to think critically, we cannot be in the business of simply assessing conclusions on the basis of whether or not they accord with our own.

An education underpinned by critical thinking is the very bedrock of civilisation, the means by which chaos is tamed into order. Tribalism, mudslinging, the inability to critique one’s own position: these are the telltale markers of the boorish and the hidebound. A society is ill-served by a generation of adults who have not been educated beyond the solipsistic impulses of childhood. At a time when so many are lamenting the degradation of public discourse, a conversation about how best to incorporate critical thinking into our schools is long overdue. Our civilisation might just depend on it.

This is an excerpt from The New Puritans: How the Religion of Social Justice Captured the Western World. You can buy the book here. It’s also available as an audiobook.

#Andrew Doyle #The New Puritans #critical thinking #critical social justice #authoritarianism #ideological capture #ideological corruption #academic corruption #instititional capture #institutional corruption #religion is a mental illness

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