Atheists come out of the closet
http://www.mercurynews.com/lifestyle/ci_6386605
By Kim Vo
Mercury News
Article Launched: 07/16/2007 05:32:59 AM PDT
At a Thai restaurant in Campbell, the talk was spicier than the fish.
Someone asked why jocks thank God if they win a game. Does the
Almighty really care if you covered the spread? And isn't scaring
children by telling them they could burn in hell a form of child
abuse?
That kind of gleeful, irreverent chatter, which lingered long after
the restaurant closed, was the whole purpose of the meeting for the
Santa Clara Brights, a group that formed in late 2003. The outings
give atheists a chance to openly express their beliefs without fear
of rejection or retribution.
"I joined this group so I can meet people of like minds, so I can
commiserate, " said Tom Nowitzky, a satellite engineer from Morgan
Hill. "There's very little we can't say to each other."
Non-believers are forming more social groups as they
increasingly "come out of the closet," as they put it. The number of
atheists is elusive, anywhere from 1 percent to more than 10 percent
of the country, depending on the survey.
Broadly stated, atheists believe in natural laws instead of
supernatural forces like a divine creator. The number of people open
to such beliefs is growing and has created sub-groups, each with its
own distinctive twist: humanists, secularists, freethinkers,
atheists, rationalists, skeptics, agnostics, non-theists and - a new
addition to the lexicon preferred by many atheists - "brights."
Atheists say this sprouting visibility is partly a response to the
country's growing religiosity - especially under President Bush.
"The Bush administration kept pushing religion harder and harder,"
said Dave Kong, California state director for American Atheists. "It
caused people to speak up for what they believe in - or don't believe
in."
And the profile of atheists may continue rising. A new study found
that atheism is more common among younger generations: While 6
percent of seniors define themselves as secular, the percentage
steadily increases among younger age groups, hitting 19 percent among
the 18 to 22 set, according to The Barna Group, a religious research
group.
"The younger generation is not intimidated in the least," said Ellen
Johnson, president of American Atheists. She also belongs to an
atheist political action committee and has seen candidates begin
asking for the group's endorsement. Those candidates didn't get
elected, Johnson noted, "but they were bold enough to say: This is
who I am."
Atheists also credit a new crop of bestselling books for emboldening
them. Works like "The God Delusion," by Richard Dawkins, "Letter to a
Christian Nation" by Sam Harris and - the latest high-profile
contender, "God is Not Great" by Christopher Hitchens - give full-
throated voice to what atheists have long silently thought.
It can be dangerous, people said, to admit you're godless in a
culture that equates religion with morality. (Hence, a popular
atheist quip: "I'm an atheist and I haven't killed anyone today.")
Shifting attitudes
Despite the new attention to atheism, public attitudes are still
shifting.
"I'm a schoolteacher in a pretty small town," said Sherry, a Bay Area
teacher who asked that her full name not be printed. She worries that
her students might discount science lessons taught by an atheist. "It
can affect how my job gets done."
Yet, when Rep. Pete Stark, D-Fremont, confirmed in March that he
didn't believe in God - the highest-ranking politician to do so -
Mark Thomas felt compelled to attend the congressman' s next community
meeting to show his support. It wasn't necessary.
"People weren't upset; they had more important things to worry
about," said Thomas, president of Atheists of Silicon Valley. "My
worst nightmare was that people would be protesting."
Some skirmishes, however, are developing among atheists themselves.
Some atheists, critics complain, are becoming as strident as the
fundamentalists they criticize.
At an Atheists of Silicon Valley meeting, Godfrey (Ben) Baumgartner,
sporting a "Born Again Skeptic" shirt, recounted how he questioned
his niece's Christianity so much during her last visit, her husband
half-jokingly said he wasn't sure she should stay over again. He
wasn't trying to convert her, Baumgartner said, just set her free.
"I don't care what she believes," he said, "as long as what she
believes is true."
Chris Lindstrom of Los Altos understands the smack talk. After years
of tight smiles as people pray for your soul, new atheists want to
rant, she said. And social groups provide a supportive place to do
that.
But Lindstrom is more focused on how her brethren can build a
community while defanging their image. She's helping organize Camp
Quest, a summer camp for children of atheists. She also started a
dialogue between atheists and Christians so they could better
appreciate each other's positions, even if it's unlikely they'd ever
agree.
"It's about showing people the humanity of the other side," said
Lindstrom, a member of Atheists of Silicon Valley. This year, the
group refrained from protesting Christians during the National Day of
Reason (scheduled on the same date as the National Day of Prayer) and
opted for a blood drive instead.
An image makeover is also a priority for Chuck Cannon, a member of
San Francisco Atheists who organized a scholarship at City College of
San Francisco for the student who writes the best essay on Darwin. He
also worked with a new group to adopt a section of Interstate 680,
which will soon boast a sign saying "Atheists and Freethinkers of
Contra Costa County."
Cannon's activism started two years ago, although he decided during
the 1960s that it "doesn't seem credible that there's a God or a sky
creature and when we died we don't really die," he said. "When you
view it as an outsider, it becomes easier to see it as not credible,
but absurd."
For decades, he was "happy to quietly be an atheist." But he grew
increasingly troubled by the Evangelicals' forays into political
policy. "There was not a need to tell people they were wrong - until
the religious right stood up and told everyone else they were wrong."
Sense of community
B.J. Bryan of San Jose joined the South Bay's nascent Ethical Culture
Society for its sense of community. At the beginning of each meeting,
people do "check-ins" to discuss their lives, concerns and triumphs.
Some describe it as church without the deity.
"A lot of times, when you're not a member of a mainstream religion,
you feel like a minority," Bryan said.
Both the Santa Clara Brights and local Ethical Culture Society were
started by Benjamin Wade of Saratoga. There are new members every
week, which amazes him.
"It's become more acceptable. I compare it to the advent of feminism
and gay rights, a group that's coming out of the closet, a group that
for many years has been marginalized, " Wade said. "I feel the ice is
breaking."
Contact Kim Vo at kvo@mercurynews. com or (408) 920-5719.