Religion and Superstition

Richard Ostrofsky
(March, 2006)
The thought of the 18th century Enlightenment needs correction in several
respects today, but its distaste for superstition, its insistence on applying
reason to every area of life, remain as sound as ever. If we define a
superstition as any belief or practice that claims immunity to common
experience, critical questioning and reasoned argument, then it is clear that
the grip of superstition on present-day thinking is still very strong and still
causing a lot of damage.
In particular, the wars between science and religion continue; and even
in science, there are questions one is not supposed to ask and whole fields
of study that are politically suspect. Even with these constraints, however,
science has taught us a great deal. In particular, pace Protagoras, it has
shown us a cosmos in which Man is not the measure of all things – a
cosmos not on the human scale at all. And this raises problems outside the
realm of science because, to live their lives without unmanageable levels of
depression or anxiety, people must find ways to construe their world as a
meaningful place for human habitation. That is religion’s role; and our need
for some form of it is a clear finding of psychology, social science, and all
historical experience.
The relationship of religion to superstition is not a simple one. I have
known religious people that I’d regard as extremely superstitious and many
I’d regard as only mildly so. I’ve also known a few deeply religious people
who were not superstitious at all. On one hand, most versions of the
Abrahamic religions (for example) demand faith in a “revealed truth” that is
to be believed in the teeth of all doubts and contradictions. On the other,
these same religions claim, with much justice, to combat a human penchant
for really abject superstition, relying on what they call “faith” instead. As
Chesterton is supposed (incorrectly) to have said, “When a Man stops
believing in God he doesn’t then believe in nothing, he believes anything.”
There is more truth to this remark than science-minded types like me are
happy to admit.
Still, I agree with Mark Twain’s schoolboy that "Faith is believing what
you know ain't so," and would stand by the definition of superstition given
above. I agree with the Enlightenment philosophes that no belief beyond the
reach of doubt or criticism is worth clinging to, and that the burden of
argument for anything whatever is always with the believer, not the skeptic.
But I would also say that one key challenge for people today is to find for
oneself a mode of spirituality and religious connection that keeps clear of
superstition. I know such modes are possible because I’ve observed them,
but I know they are rare and difficult to find.
“A man’s religion” Gordon Allport said, “. . . is his ultimate attempt to
enlarge and complete his own personality by finding the supreme context in
which he rightly belongs.” So defined, religion has no quarrel with science
at all – but neither has it any necessary connection to a tradition of
revelation. Rather, the “supreme context” of one’s life is a matter of
personal discovery and personal choice. On these matters, one can offer
suggestions to others, but the idea of any revealed, public truth about them
is nonsense.
We can push this argument a little further: Science begins with the
liberation of epistemology from concern with values and morals. What is
just is – whether we like it or not. Religion, by contrast, must be centrally
concerned with these since, whatever is happening to us, we always live by
our values and morals as much or more than by the brute facts. Religion in
this sense may be every bit as empirical as science, with the difference that
what we discover can be “truths” only for us – but no more than suggestions
to anyone else.
A commitment to reasoned criticism of the suggestions we received
from our parents and peers and cultural traditions leads inexorably to
pluralism, since the development of criticism must always be a matter of
individual priorities, while the uptake and response to criticism is a matter
of self-interest and taste. In turn, a reasoned pluralism leads to eclecticism –
a recognition that some mix of good and bad ideas will be found
everywhere, so that one must pick and choose among the suggestions on
offer. My own suggestion would be that the individual’s ultimate context is
comprised by nature, by social inter-relationship and culture, and by our
needy, vulnerable human bodies – and that the more inclusively and
realistically these factors are understood, the better. Some understandings of
them are always already inscribed upon our brains long before we become
conscious of their existence; and we must review all this orientating
material, and make something coherent and personal of it all on our way to
becoming fully adult. We must be “born again,” so to speak – not into any
savior or scheme of salvation, but into authentic selves; and, as adults, must
do a better job of bringing ourselves up than did our parents when we were
children.