Why blog?

This morning I set out to take down this blog since I seldom write here anyway. As I began that process, for some reason I became increasingly reluctant and eventually decided to put those termination plans on hold for the time being. Now I am not sure why. What is it that I want this blog to be anyway?

When perusing other ostensibly "successful" blogs on related topics and from different perspectives (e.g., Pharyngula, Crooked Timber, Evangelical Outpost, Re Rerum Natura) I am struck by two things in particular. First, and most positively, the authors are prolific and usually concise writers -- I read those blogs because I generally learn something. Second, and more negatively, each seems wrapped in its own oddly inbred and parochial air of confident certainty -- a rather perverse self-congratulatory insularity that is reflected especially in the smug tones of many comments.

I am not a prolific writer. Words come slowly and cautiously, each fraught with its own history of shifting meaning and its implicit connotations that vary among potential readers. In any case, I am neither capable of nor interested in out-Pharynguling Pharyngula (or out-evangelizing EO). What I am interested in is exploring the origins and functions of diverse and more or less isolated communities of discourse. In particular, I am interested in furthering a legitimate dialog between science and religion(s), most broadly construed.

Establishing such a dialog is difficult. For example, I was recently invited to participate in a broadcast conversation about evolution and religion on a local Christian radio station. Against my initial (better) judgment, I agreed and was put in contact with Cornelius Hunter who was to be my dialog partner. Hunter is an affiliate of the Discovery Institute and, not surprisingly, it soon became apparent that his sole purpose was to establish a sense of controversy where none exists. End of dialog (more on this to follow in a subsequent post).

My purpose in this blog is blur boundaries among communities of discourse in the interest of our common humanity and to explore a natural history of religions -- their diverse origins and functions (for better and for worse), their common and unique premises, and their roots in human affect and cognition. As William James (quoted this recent and very interesting NY Times article) put it, “All of our raptures and our drynesses, our longings and pantings, our questions and beliefs . . . are equally organically founded.” The dialog I long to pursue here is one grounded in naturalism but one that also recognizes and respects the cultural functions of religious faith(s). Refugees from islands of isolated certainty are especially welcome to participate in this dialog. /dps