The Holy See has issued an encyclical about safeguarding the human person in the time of Artificial Intelligence. You can read it here.

• It describes in a broadly accurate way how modern AI works, and how it differs from older rules-based technologies.

• It raises thoughtful concerns about the potential impact of AI, which many atheists and secularists would share.

• It builds those concerns on Catholic theological arguments that are not based on publicly testable evidence.

• Its concerns about AI having opaque and unaccountable power could also be a mirror for the Church’s own governance.

It’s an odd document to read as a secularist fascinated by technology. I get the same feeling, on an intellectual level, as I do emotionally when I go to a funeral mass. There, I hear someone speak meaningfully and knowledgeably about a dead friend. Then the priest says something about him being up in heaven looking down on us.

It’s like two very different conversations overlaid on each other. Religious and secular arguments often share the same sentence, with different unspoken rules about how you should justify the various claims. So let’s try to disentangle it.

How Artificial Intelligence works

The encyclical impressively highlights key aspects of AI, including:

“98. All of us, including those who design them, possess only a limited understanding of their actual functioning. Indeed, current AI systems are more “cultivated” than “built,” for developers do not directly design every detail, but instead create a framework within which the intelligence “grows.” As a result, fundamental scientific aspects — such as the internal representations and computational processes of these systems — remain, at present, unknown.”

“99. They often surpass human intelligence in speed and computational capacity, offering tangible benefits across many fields. Yet this power remains entirely tied to data processing… Even when these tools are described as capable of “learning,” their way of doing so is different from that of a human person… Rather, it is a form of statistical adaptation based on data and feedback.”

These are broadly accurate if incomplete ways of describing AI. ‘More cultivated than built’ captures the essence of how modern AI differs from older rules-based technologies.

I find chess programs a useful analogy in this respect. Older programs relied heavily on human-designed rules, brute-force search, expert tuning, and opening books and endgames based partly on master games. More recent AI-style systems such as AlphaZero can start with little more than the rules of chess and improve by repeatedly playing themselves.

The OECD describes AI like this:

“An AI system is a machine-based system that, for explicit or implicit objectives, infers, from the input it receives, how to generate outputs such as predictions, content, recommendations, or decisions that can influence physical or virtual environments. Different AI systems vary in their levels of autonomy and adaptiveness after deployment.”

The OECD version is more precise, but the encyclical captures the broad shift from explicit programming to systems that infer patterns from inputs and generate outputs. In many modern systems, developers do not hand-code every insight. They create the conditions in which the system can learn effective patterns.

Concerns about the social impact of AI

The encyclical highlights thoughtful concerns about the social impact of AI, including:

“101. We see that it is now embedded in decision-making processes across many sectors and at multiple levels: in communication, management and control.”

“132. Disinformation did not begin with AI, yet today it finds a powerful amplifier in AI. The ability to manipulate content, images and videos exposes people to biased or misleading perspectives.”

“102. When AI systems present themselves as neutral and objective, they end up reflecting and reinforcing the stereotypes or ideological bias of their designers and developers.”

“132. Only the shared pursuit of the veracity of facts, perceived as a common good, can provide a solid foundation for just communication.”

“101. Current AI systems require enormous amounts of energy and water, significantly influencing carbon dioxide emissions, and place heavy demands on natural resources.”

“197. the growing ease with which autonomous weapons systems can be deployed makes war more “feasible” and less subject to human control.”

Many secularists share most or all of these concerns. I don’t have the same level of concern as the encyclical about some specific claims. Some are phrased quite generally, as if all types of AI are the same and cause the same risks. But they are all thoughtful concerns that society should address.

The encyclical is built on Catholic theology

Because its broad analysis of AI is good, it is easy to forget that this encyclical is at heart a theological argument. Like all encyclicals, its purpose is to explain, strengthen, and evangelise the Catholic view of the world including its untestable claims about a supernatural reality. As the introduction puts it:

“1. Humanity, created by God in all its grandeur, is today facing a pivotal choice: either to construct a new Tower of Babel or to build the city in which God and humanity dwell together.”

“6. For this reason it is necessary to begin a shared discernment process for identifying the spiritual and cultural roots of ongoing transformations.”

“7. In order to answer these questions and discern how to navigate responsibly the era of AI, I would like to bring to mind two scenes from the Bible: the construction of the Tower of Babel (cf. Gen 11:1-9) and the rebuilding of the walls of Jerusalem (cf. Neh 2–6).”

“9. Therefore, the primary choice is not between a “yes” or “no” to technology, but rather between constructing Babel or rebuilding Jerusalem; between a power that claims to dominate the heavens and a people who work together in the presence of God to rebuild the walls of fraternal coexistence.”

“11. Building a city founded on the common good implies, first and foremost, building on a firm relationship with God.”

“14. Finally, building for the common good requires an evangelical language.”

The encyclical repeatedly mixes this type of evangelical theological language with its technical analysis of AI and its social impacts. Wherever it refers to concepts like the dignity of the human person, the universal destination of goods, or care for our common home and peace, it means what these concepts mean in Catholic theology, not secular philosophy or human rights law.

This complicates any attempts, which would be worthwhile if possible, for secularists and the Catholic Church to build coalitions around shared concerns about the practical impacts of AI. Because once we start to address how, rather than whether, to address the concerns, the difference between what we each mean by these concepts will come into play.

The encyclical is a mirror for the Catholic Church

The encyclical makes several perceptive analyses of the impact of AI on how society tries to identify what is true, and to navigate moral disagreements. The Holy See could also apply these analyses to its own church governance.

“95. These entities effectively set the conditions for access, determine the rules of visibility and shape the very possibilities for participation. When such power is concentrated in the hands of a few, it tends to become opaque and evade public oversight, increasing the risk of distorted forms of development that give rise to new dependencies, exclusions, manipulations and inequalities.”

“105. In many cases, however, the internal processes leading to a result remain opaque, making it harder to assign responsibility and correct errors. This is where accountability becomes crucial: the possibility of identifying who must “account” for decisions, justify them, monitor them, and, when necessary, challenge them and remedy any harm caused.”

“107. [We must insist on] openly discussing the ethical frameworks involved and subjecting them to shared standards of social justice. Otherwise, those who control AI will impose their own moral vision, which will become the invisible infrastructure of these systems. A more moral AI is not enough if that morality is determined by a few.”

“132. The quality of public communication depends directly on social trust and, in turn, shapes it. At the same time, truthful information does not arise from centralised or automated control. In public discourse, the truth of facts has a rational dimension, as it requires verification, cross-checking of sources and responsible argumentation… Only the shared pursuit of the veracity of facts, perceived as a common good, can provide a solid foundation for just communication.”

“133. Those who command powerful technological and economic resources, along with substantial human capital for intervention, possess significant capabilities for influencing cultural change. Ultimately, they can influence a significant number of people concerning the truth about humanity, the world, the meaning of existence, the family and even God. This is pure power detached from truth, which subtly or overtly imposes what it wishes others to accept as true.”

In fairness, the encyclical does say that Christian communities, too, are called to commit themselves to transparency in communication and to the honest pursuit of facts. But it does not apply that standard to its own doctrinal beliefs about truth and morality.

This raises an obvious question. If the Holy See believes we should openly discuss ethical frameworks that shape human lives, and subject those ethical frameworks to shared standards of justice, why should the Catholic Church’s own moral teachings be exempt from the same scrutiny?

Conclusion

The Holy See has produced an encyclical that describes in a broadly accurate way how AI works, and raises thoughtful concerns about its impact on society. Many atheists and secularists share these concerns, but do not share the underlying theological arguments that underpin them.

This encyclical includes a perceptive analysis of the relationship between power, accountability, truth, and justice. The Holy See could use that analysis not only as a warning about AI, but also as a mirror for its own church governance. That would strengthen its criticism of opaque and unaccountable AI power.

Atheists and secularists should not just dismiss this document. Many of its practical recommendations overlap with our concerns about human rights, democratic accountability, transparency, and other risks.

We should find ways to cooperate where our conclusions overlap, while being honest that we reach those conclusions from very different starting points.

I’m sixty-five today. That’s a random and meaningless, while seemingly profound, number of days on the planet. It’s also a great excuse to start regularly publishing again, after a strange few years of disability, recovery, and intermittent silence.

My past three decades online have rocked my world. I’ve been exhilarated by the wonderfully hopeful internet of the nineties. I’ve been frustrated by the angry and algorithmic internet of the new millennium. I’m now fascinated by the increasingly polarised and unpredictable internet of recent years.

In this relaunch of my Substack, I’ll tease out how to navigate this messy world, both online and in wider life. I’ll focus on how to think clearly about what is most likely to be true, and how to play fair with others. I won’t always get it right, but I’ll give it my best go, and I’d welcome your feedback.

I’ll write about happiness, secularism, politics, culture, and whatever else seems worth a civil debate or a bad joke. I plan three posts a week for a while, then we’ll see what happens.

Let’s begin with a happy boost. I’d like to share the social media account I start every morning with. Niall Harbison from Ireland runs Happy Doggo land in Thailand. He’s spent the past few years on a personal mission to save street dogs around the world.

Five years ago, Niall nearly died from substance abuse. To help his recovery, he started jogging around Koh Samui in Thailand. He came across many starving street dogs, and started feeding them and sharing videos online.

Encouraged by the response, Niall founded Happy Doggo Land. It’s a home in the jungle for rescued street dogs. It now has a team of twenty running an onsite kitchen for a thousand street dogs a day, a field clinic being developed into a dog hospital, and mobile units to sterilise street dogs.

Every morning I wake up and watch the latest video. It’s typically a story of a dog who was found close to death, and who now has a new forever home, either with an adopting family anywhere in the world, or in the retirement village for elderly dogs in Happy Doggo Land.

It is a daily reminder of the good that exists in the world. Sometimes it’s sad news that a dog has died, after a final few days, weeks, or months of dignity and love. That matters too. If you want to start your day with a smile, check out Niall and Happy Doggo on whatever social media channel you use.

• Nial Harbison on Substack

• Happy Doggo website

• Happy Doggo on YouTube

• Niall Harbison on X

• Happy Doggo on X

• Niall Harbison on Facebook

• Happy Doggo on Facebook

• Niall Harbison on Instagram

I’ll be back on Wednesday with a look at Pope Leo’s encyclical letter on safeguarding the human person in the time of Artificial Intelligence.

My late wife Anne Holliday died fifteen years ago today. It feels like an instant and a lifetime ago. I wrote this tribute to her when she died of lung cancer in April 2011.

Anne and I loved each other very much, and we lived together for twenty five years. She was smart, sexy, funny and courageous, she combined her busy career with helping me to edit my writing, she was loving and loyal to her family and friends, she campaigned to build a peaceful, liberal and caring Ireland, she was inspirational while living with cancer, and she is still helping others after dying as she donated her body to Trinity medical school.

We married in November 2009, just after Anne was told she had six months to live. We wanted to give our friends a happy event to share with us rather than a funeral. Never one to do things in halves, Anne recovered from a subsequent heart attack and stroke, and thanks to the great work of the Oncology team in the Mater Private hospital, she lived actively and happily for a year and a half before dying in April 2011. We spent most of that time visiting family and friends, traveling abroad, and watching countless DVD box sets on the days that chemotherapy tired her out. Because of these DVD marathons, that ranged from Morse and Lewis and Poirot to Doctor Who and the Goodies and Sex and the City, plus rewatching all of Anne’s favourite old movies, I now miss her most when I am watching television.

Anne did not want to die, but nor did she fear death. She was grateful to have had enough notice of her death to be able to do many things that she wanted to do first. And she wanted to die peacefully and painlessly rather than have to suffer needlessly before dying. She had decided that, if she had reached that stage, she would have ended her own life and I would have have helped her to do this. Once she had made that decision, her quality of life soared and we were able to fully enjoy the time she had left. Thankfully, Anne died suddenly but naturally, so we had the benefit of not having to worry about needless suffering at the end, but without her having to actually take the decision to end her life and carry it out. And living through all of this with her has made me much more comfortable about facing my own death when it happens.

I first met Anne in 1986, during the decade of Reagan and Thatcher, Madonna and Diana, shoulder pads and Back to the Future. Ireland was engulfed in recession, with Garret The Good and Charles GUBU Haughey alternating as Taoiseach of a country where one in five adults were jobless or emigrating. Anne was working as a secretary for Michael Keating TD in the Irish Parliament. I had various dealings with Keating, and sometimes dropped into his office where I would chat with Anne. We found we had much in common politically, particularly wanting a more liberal and caring society, challenging the influence of the Catholic Church on Irish law in areas like contraception, divorce and abortion, and opposing terrorism from all sides in Northern Ireland. We were also very attracted to each other, and we were soon living together.

Anne made me aware of one of Ireland’s most forgotten minorities: the Anglo-Irish Protestants who had ended up in the Republic after partition. In effect, we had a sectarian Protestant state in the north, with a Catholic minority large enough to not be intimidated, and a sectarian Catholic state in the south, with a Protestant minority small enough to have to emigrate or keep their heads down. When Anne was a child in Limerick, some of the local Catholic children used to spit at her and her friends on their way to the local Protestant school. Although she later became an atheist insofar as she didn’t believe in gods and didn’t attend religious services, Anne still self-identified as a member of the Church of Ireland community from a perspective somewhere between ethnic and cultural. They were her people, and she was an atheist Protestant in the same way as some people are atheist Jews.

While in her teens, Anne worked as a Simon Community volunteer and was a founder member of the Limerick chapter of the Irish Georgian Society. She moved to London to train as a nurse, but returned to Limerick to care for her parents when they were ill. Both died of cancer, each at about the same young age as Anne was when she later died of the same disease. Anne then moved to Dublin, working as a legal secretary in Matheson Ormsby Prentice. She married her first husband David, and they later separated. Anne became active in Fine Gael, campaigning on liberal issues in a constituency where the local Fine Gael TD Alice Glenn considered Protestants to be “enemies of the people”. She was also active on conservation issues including the campaign to preserve the viking settlement at Wood Quay.

Anne and I worked together to promote a liberal and caring Ireland. We campaigned on the losing side when Ireland voted to retain a Constitutional ban on divorce, and on the winning side a decade later. When the Pope announced that it was morally allowed to discriminate against homosexuals, we arranged a picket of the Papal Nuncio’s house with placards that read “Equal rights for gays and celibates”. Together with our friend Michael Fitzpatrick, we founded New Consensus, a peace group that picketed the Sinn Fein and UDA offices in opposition to terrorism, and promoted a peaceful democratic Northern Ireland based on mutual respect, civil liberty and freely given allegiance to the State. Anne was also the first Dublin coordinator of the Peace Trains that challenged the IRA disruption of the rail line between Dublin and Belfast.

We moved to our current home in Drumcondra in the summer of 1990, during the euphoria of Ireland’s adventures under Jack Charlton in the Italy World Cup. Anne chaired our local Residents Association, and ran in the Dublin women’s mini-marathon to raise funds for Victim Support. She also prepared submissions to the City Council on the preservation of important local buildings. We made many lifelong friendships, and we also increased the local feline population when Anne converted me from being a childhood dog person to an adult cat person. We had, and I still have, an average of six cats, almost all of them adopted from the streets or rescued from being put down at the vets.

Three years later Anne lost a High Court case against the State while trying to protect her job and that of other Dail secretaries. At the time, if an Irish political party lost seats but gained them elsewhere, the secretarial staff were usually reassigned to new TDs. But when Roger Garland TD lost his seat, the new Green Party TD chose to employ a friend instead of retaining Anne. Anne argued that she was employed by the State and that her job still existed. The High Court disagreed, despite the State being listed as her employer on her payslip. Anne then worked with a training company and as a freelance researcher with RTE, before returning later to the civil service.

Another three years later Anne was back in the High Court, when she, I and Michael Fitzpatrick won a libel case against the Irish author Tim Pat Coogan. He had written in his book The IRA that New Consensus had grown out of the old Official IRA. Not only was this not true, but Anne had personally told him it was not true some years earlier. But then what would she know? We used some of the settlement money to go on our first cruise, so we have Tim Pat to thank for introducing us to our favourite type of holiday. When Anne was diagnosed, we had already booked our latest cruise, to the Amazon and Caribbean, and having to cancel that seemed to upset her more than having cancer.

We also loved visiting Paris, enjoying the galleries and relaxing by the Seine. Anne even overcame her bemusement at my strange obsession for football when she came with me to Paris to watch the 1998 World Cup Final. I was supporting Brazil, largely because of the legendary Pele team from when I was a child, but Anne wisely chose to support the winning French team. Later we got split up in a crowded Paris railway station, and when I found Anne she was sitting beside a middle-aged English man, discussing his occasional trips to Dublin. I recognised him as Nobby Stiles, who had played for England in the 1966 World Cup Final, and they were both unimpressed that I had drawn attention to him and interrupted their conversation by attracting autograph hunters.

For most of the last decade of her life, Anne worked in Civil Service jobs that she loved. She was Personal Assistant to the Director of the National Museum of Ireland, where her passion for history came to the fore. She then spent some of the best times of her career in the special projects section of the Department of Arts, where she coordinated the Irish end of the unique Sea Stallion project. A team in Denmark reconstructed a viking ship, using the technology and materials of the viking age, and a crew of volunteers sailed the ship to and from Dublin, where it was displayed at the National Museum. Her last job was in the office of the Tanaiste in the Department of Enterprise.

Anne and I both stopped working when she was diagnosed with cancer, so we could spend more time together. She identified with Christopher Hitchen’s description of preparing for dying and for living at the same time. Her Oncology team, led by Professor Desmond Carney, was excellent. We had weekly or fortnightly chemotherapy days, where we relieved the monotony by playing scrabble on an iPad. Apart from that, we fulfilled our promise to enjoy ourselves as much as we could for as long as we could. We couldn’t take long holidays, so we took short breaks to Paris, Bordeaux, London, Copenhagen and elsewhere. For our honeymoon I tagged along on a trip to Paris with Anne and her friends Mary, Claire and Margaret, that they had arranged before her diagnosis. We also spent time visiting our families and friends, including her sister Carrie and her family in Scotland, who she loved and always spoke proudly of, and many others who I won’t even try to list as I will inevitably omit someone. We had a glass of Bordeaux in Bordeaux, which Anne had always wanted to do. And we celebrated the first wedding anniversary that we had thought we would not see together.

Anne knew shortly before she died that the chemotherapy had done all that it could, but we had hoped she might last until the summer. She visited her native Limerick for what she knew was the last time. As usual, she had a busy schedule planned for the coming week, with her sister Carrie visiting us from Scotland. After that, she wanted to watch the next series of Doctor Who and the final Harry Potter movie, and if possible to see Paris once more. She wanted to share a glass of champagne with my father, who had missed our first wedding anniversary because he was ill. She was delighted to see Fine Gael back in government, and she looked forward to the visit of Queen Elizabeth to Ireland as a symbol of the normal relations that should exist between nearby democracies. And she was helping some RTE people to plan a documentary about assisted dying. While Anne knew she might not see these things happen, she lived as if she would.

Anne died suddenly at home on the morning of Saturday 9 April 2011. Her sister Carrie was visiting us from Scotland, and Anne had spent the previous night with Carrie and some friends. I had left the house at 6 am to travel to Cork to chair the Atheist Ireland AGM, and our last words were saying that we loved each other. Carrie called to the house after noon and found Anne dead. She rang me in Cork, where the local police kindly gave me a lift to the railway station to get the next train back to Dublin. Amusingly, this resulted in one of our friends mishearing the news of Anne’s death as “Anne has been found dead in the house, and the police have brought Michael to the station.” A few days later, with Anne’s body in Trinity College medical school carrying on her good works after death, our families and friends gathered for an evening of memories to celebrate her remarkable life.

I loved Anne and I miss her. I am happy and proud to have lived with her for so long.

The Department of Education survey that shows 40% of parents want multi-denominational schools is a distraction. Our human right to an objective education should not be subject to the preferences of our neighbours. Also, the survey was misleading, only giving parents an option to choose between two types of religious schools, with one type falsely implied to be non-religious. And the Minister has confirmed that, ultimately, it is the patron bodies that will have the final say.

Secular schools based on human rights should be the default in any neighbourhood. Any local child should have equal access, and have their rights respected, regardless of anybody’s religious or nonreligious beliefs. The school should teach objectively about all religions and beliefs, without promoting either religion or atheism. The UN has repeatedly told Ireland to open such schools.

This survey used the misleading question “Would you prefer your primary school to operate under a denominational (religious) patron or to operate under a multi-denominational (non-religious) patron?” But multi-denominational is not the same as non-religious.

The relevant issue is not the religious makeup of the patron body, but the ethos of the school. Multi-denominational schools can have a Catholic chaplain, religious worship, their own religion and ethics courses, and celebrate religious festivals.

The Forum on Patronage described non-denominational schools as under the patronage of a secular body which has an explicitly secular ethos. There are no such schools in Ireland, the option was not included in the survey, and the state has no plans to open any.

The process itself was also biased. Denominational patron bodies could email all parents encouraging them to prefer the status quo. Even given that, only 40% responded, so the true figure of those who want the status quo to continue is just under a quarter. But, to repeat, the Minister has confirmed that, ultimately, it is the patron bodies that will have the final say.

Atheist Ireland will continue to campaign for a secular state education system that respects human rights, regardless of the religious or nonreligious beliefs of parents, children, staff, or board members. Religious parents should of course be able to open their own schools as alternative options, but not as the core of a state-funded system.

Five years ago, the government proposed a new public holiday to mark the heroism of frontline workers during Covid, and to remember those who died during the pandemic. This was a welcome symbol of national grief, dedication, and resilience.

Instead, the idea morphed into a once-off public holiday in 2022 dedicated to the Covid workers, turning into an ongoing public holiday from 2023 dedicated to Saint Brigid and the Pagan Spring celebration of Imbolc which is associated with the earlier Pagan goddess Brigit.

There was no need to bring religion into this commemoration, never mind allow religion to hijack it. When the healthcare workers were protecting us from Covid, nobody was applauding Saint Brigid or the goddess Brigit. We were applauding the dedication and selflessness of human healthcare professionals.

Saint Brigid has a potent symbolism in Irish culture, which is Christian evangelism. She supposedly wove a Christian cross out of rushes to convert a Pagan chieftain into Christianity as he was dying. That is exactly the wrong message to convey about the Ireland of today.

This Christian conversion myth is particularly ironic in the context of the most recent Irish marriage figures. Four in ten Irish marriages are now secular. This is twice as many as twenty years ago. Just over a third of Irish marriages are now Christian. This is down from a massive eighty percent twenty years ago.

Most significantly, almost a quarter of Irish marriages are now some variation of Spiritualist, Pagan, or Celtic. This is up from zero twenty years ago. If this trend continues, it could overtake Christian marriages, and be the second most popular type behind secular.

Some supporters of the new holiday argue that Saint Brigid is female, and balances the male Saint Patrick’s Day. But adding a new saint does not balance an existing saint. It just reinforces the anachronistic idea that we all identify with mythological saints that are already over-represented on our calendar.

Remember, the government first proposed this as a public holiday to recognise frontline health workers. If they wanted to also celebrate a woman, they could have chosen, for example, Dublin physician Dorothy Stopford Price (1890-1954), a pioneer of the BCG vaccine that was central to the elimination of childhood Tuberculosis in Ireland.

Instead we have yet another religious holiday, around which state-funded schools teach children to make Saint Brigid’s crosses and bring them home to their families. But if state-funded schools forced even one Christian child to make an atheist symbol and bring it home, we would never hear the end of it.

This assists the overt mission of the Catholic church, as described by Pope Francis: “It is imperative to evangelise cultures in order to inculturate the Gospel.” It’s like our parliamentarians starting each day praying to the Christian God, and the free advert that RTE gives to the Catholic church each day in the form of the Angelus.

Ending this religious background noise is not as important as achieving secular education or removing the religious oath for President, Taoiseach, and Judges. But it remains on the agenda as something that needs to be changed to reflect the pluralist Ireland that we now inhabit.

Is atheism a belief, but a different type of belief than religious faith? Or is it merely a lack of belief in gods, and nothing more? Let’s start with what ‘belief’ means:

• In everyday talk, ‘belief’ often means accepting a claim as true.

• In philosophy, ‘belief’ can mean any position about a claim (belief, disbelief, suspension).

• In human rights law, ‘belief’ means a nonreligious philosophical conviction.

And then what ‘atheism’ means:

• In everyday talk and philosophically, ‘atheism’ can be anything on a spectrum from passively not believing in gods, to actively believing there are no gods.

• Under human rights law, ‘atheism’ is protected as a nonreligious philosophical conviction.

How did the word ‘atheism’ evolve?

The word ‘atheism’ was not introduced to counter the word ‘theism’. It was used long before the word ‘theism’ was formally used in Western languages.

It was first used in ancient Greece, combining the prefix ‘a’ (without) and the word ‘theos’ (god), so it meant without god, or godless. Note, not without ‘a belief in god’, but without ‘god’.

Most people assumed that gods existed, and gods were the source of morality, so atheists were godless, meaning impious or immoral, and without a connection with god.

‘Atheist’ also meant being without the official gods of an area and era. This included mostly people who believed in other gods, so many ancient Romans called early Christians atheists.

Some people who didn’t believe in gods later adopted it as a description of their own philosophical position.

Today, few people use the word atheism to mean impious or immoral, or to mean believing in a different god to the traditional one.

Today, most people use the word atheism to mean any of the following:

• Weak atheism: passively not believing that any gods exist (‘I don’t believe in gods’).

• Strong atheism: actively believing that no gods exist (‘I believe there are no gods’).

• Legal context: under ‘freedom of religion or belief,’ atheism is protected as a coherent nonreligious worldview.

The arguments for atheism not being a belief

Here are arguments some atheists use to claim that atheism is not a belief, but merely a lack of belief in gods.

• Some argue (on etymological grounds): the word ‘atheism’ comes from the word ‘atheos’, which they take to mean ‘without belief in god’. They say that is all that atheists have in common, and anything else you add to that is not part of the meaning.

• Some say: A religious person says ‘I believe in God’. I respond: ‘Prove it. If you can’t prove it, I don’t believe you. I’m not making any claims myself, I’m just rejecting yours.’

• Some say: ‘A religious person says ‘atheism is a belief, just like religion is.’ I respond: ‘I’m not saying anything about my beliefs. I’m just saying that I don’t share that one particular belief of yours.’

• Some say: ‘A religious person says atheism is a religion’. I respond: ‘Atheism is a religion like bald is a hair colour, or like not collecting stamps is a hobby.’

One advantage for atheists of framing atheism as ‘lack of belief’ is that it places the burden of proof on the person making the god-claim. If you merely reject their claim, you don’t owe a full alternative theory. If you assert ‘no gods exist,’ you do owe reasons.

The arguments for atheism being a belief

Here are arguments some atheists use to claim that atheism is a belief, but a more reliable belief than faith-based beliefs.

• The word ‘atheos’ does not literally mean ‘without a belief in god’. It literally means ‘without god’. Its everyday meaning has evolved over time.

• There is nothing wrong with having and defending beliefs. The problem with religious beliefs is not that they are beliefs, but that they are based on faith.

• In ordinary language, everything you think about the truth or otherwise of a proposition is a belief. Even the belief that atheism is not a belief is itself a belief.

• In practice, atheists do have more in common than a lack of belief in gods. We have many different beliefs about reality and morality, but we live our lives on the basis that our reasons and standards of justification do not come from gods. This is a necessary consequence of atheism, not merely a correlation, and it is a significant position in a world where most people believe the opposite.

One disadvantage for atheists of this type of argument is that the atheist has some onus of proof for his or her position. However, we should be confident enough of our position to defend it by applying reason to evidence.

One advantage for atheists of this type of argument is that, when applied to international human rights law, it affords the same legal protection to atheists as to religious people under freedom of religion or belief.

Where does agnosticism fit in?

Many people believe agnosticism is an ‘I-don’t-know’ midway point between theism and atheism. However, atheism and theism are about what you believe, while agnosticism is about what you claim to be able to know.

So you can be:

• A gnostic atheist (I don’t believe in gods, and also claim to know that’s true)

• An agnostic atheist (I don’t believe in gods, but don’t claim to know that’s true)

• An agnostic theist (I believe in gods, but don’t claim to know that’s true)

• A gnostic theist (I believe in gods, and also claim to know that’s true)

An agnostic strong atheist might almost 100% actively believe there are no gods, based on applying reason to the best evidence, and lead his or her life based on that belief, but not claim to know there are no gods, because we are human and might be mistaken.

Atheism under human rights law

Words can mean different things in different contexts. Article 18 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and Article 9 of the European Convention of Human Rights, guarantee the right to freedom of thought, conscience and religion.

This is sometimes referred to as the right to freedom of religion or belief. The ‘or belief’ part refers to nonreligious philosophical convictions, which include atheism, humanism, secularism, veganism, pacifism, and others.

You have an absolute right to have, change, or reject a religion or belief. The law can limit your right to practice your religion or belief, if it is necessary in a democratic society and in pursuit of a legitimate aim.

For a ‘belief’ to be protected under human rights law, it must:

• Be genuinely held

• Relate to a weighty aspect of life

• Have a high degree of cogency/seriousness/cohesion

• Be worthy of respect in a democratic society

• Be more than a mere opinion or viewpoint

Conclusion

Ultimately, the word ‘atheism’ has a range of possible meanings, and there is no official uncontested definition. The fairest definition would be something like:

In ordinary language, ‘atheism’ is used in two common ways: (1) not believing that any gods exist, and (2) believing that no gods exist. In the context of human rights law, atheism is protected as a nonreligious philosophical conviction.

There is no advantage to atheists, holding any of these positions, arguing that ours is the only official uncontested definition. That won’t change the reality that different beliefs about the meaning of the word ‘atheism’ exist.

Whichever beliefs we hold about reality and morality, we can agree that atheism removes one obstacle to rational thinking and morality. It removes the distorting factor, based on faith and dogma, of believing that our understanding of reality is revealed by gods and that our morality is dictated by gods.

Some atheists will fall back on secular faiths and dogmas, from communism and fascism to market fundamentalism, and some will just act opportunistically for selfish reasons. But atheism does free us up to some extent to pursue truth and morality more reliably.

The goal of this article isn’t to police labels, but to clarify what people mean, so we can argue about substance instead of semantics.

We should try to be the opposite of arrogant in our beliefs. We should recognise that we might be mistaken, and we should be open to new evidence and rational arguments, including robust debate.

Yesterday, a publication posted a video on X of asylum seekers outside the Dail on International Human Rights Day. It said they were demanding Irish passports, and the clip was captioned to suggest the crowd was chanting: ‘We want passports!’ The replies were, predictably, angry and abusive.

The problem is, the chant doesn’t sound like ‘We want passports’. It’s more like one of those misheard-lyrics routines, where a comedian tells you what he hears and suddenly you can’t un-hear it. Think of ABBA’s ‘Dancing Queen’, with ‘young and sweet, only seventeen’ turning into ‘young and sweet, only seven teeth’.

The audio on this video is poor. I couldn’t clearly make out what the crowd was chanting. But it seemed unlikely that asylum seekers would be publicly demanding passports in this way. I slowed it down, and it sounded even less distinct. Yet sixty thousand had already seen the post, and hundreds were angrily commenting on the assumption that of course that’s what being said.

So I looked for context. The Irish Times report on the rally said a group called End Direct Provision Ireland was seeking an amnesty for 1,500 asylum seekers who have been in the process for longer than six months. They were asking for what’s called Stamp 4 temporary permission to live and work in Ireland.

With that in mind, I listened again. Even given the poor-quality audio, it now seemed overwhelmingly likely that the chant was ‘We want stamp 4’. The context fits perfectly. By contrast, the ‘passports’ caption seemed to be generating false outrage rather than conveying truth or understanding.

So what is a stamp 4? It allows certain non-EEA nationals to live and work in Ireland without a work permit. It is typically granted for two years, and can be renewed if the person continues to meet the criteria, which can include refugee or subsidiary protection status.

The Irish Times report quotes the organisers as saying their members deserved the opportunity to live without constant fear of deportation and to demonstrate their societal value: ‘We’re asking for a chance now to get out of limbo. To have the chance to contribute to the society that we now call home.’

Could I be fooling myself with my own confirmation bias? I checked further. I found a Facebook update from Honore Kamegni, former Deputy Lord Mayor of Cork, who was at the rally. His update begins: ‘Stop deportation! We want stamp 4!’ That surely settled the issue of what the chant was.

Seeking a stamp 4 is very different from demanding ‘We want passports!’ The post on X turned a request for a specific existing temporary permission into an unreasonable demand for citizenship now. Predictably, this provoked anger in people already inclined to be angry.

In real life, on all sides of most issues, most people are promoting what they sincerely believe to be best for society, whether they are correct or mistaken. Online discourse can create the opposite impression, as social media algorithms push the loudest and angriest voices to the top.

Whatever you think about the level of migration to Ireland, the difference between migration and asylum, and the impact of both on society, we should be able to discuss these questions with reason and empathy for everybody. This means focusing on how to resolve real problems, and refusing to abuse people simply because they see things differently from us.

Seamus McKenna, an early member of Atheist Ireland, has had hundreds of short letters published in the Irish Times over nearly fifty years. He has now compiled them in a fascinating book, the Reconstitution of Ireland. You can buy it at Amazon.

Seamus is a principled contrarian with a snappy writing style. He starts each section with a memoir-style introduction about how he experienced life in a changing Ireland. For authenticity, some letters are printed as images, as they appeared in the paper.

His topics range from the Irish clerical staples of divorce, contraception, abortion, education, and abuse, to the Northern Irish Troubles, the financial crash, international affairs, and whimsical trivia. But the thread that holds it together is the need to separate church and state.

In tight 200-300-word pieces, Seamus argues that church control of state-funded schools, with religion permeating the school day through an integrated curriculum, and religious oaths for President and judges, are incompatible with a modern republic.

His letters follow the slow decline of church control of sexual morality, from the McGee case on contraception and his own move to Derry to obtain a UK divorce that was illegal here, to the referendums that made abortion and blasphemy constitutionally lawful.

Having lived in Derry during the Troubles, he describes how the IRA murdered his friend Terence McKeever for doing electrical work for the RUC. Having worked in property development during the Celtic Tiger, he covers the EU, the financial crash, the Troika, and austerity.

True to the often quirky nature of Irish Times letters, he examines the relative merits of wine corks versus screw-caps, promotes books as props for reading the newspaper at breakfast, and engages in a detailed readers’ debate on the physics of raindrops.

His advice to letter-writers: avoid preambles, keep the letter short, and write on one subject. Also, compose and send it immediately you become aware of the trigger, even if you have to break off from your breakfast to write it.

As a declaration of interest, Seamus refers positively to the work of Atheist Ireland in his letters and his book. He also wrote an article for Atheist Ireland following the Mother and Baby Homes report in 2021. You can read that article here.

The Dublin Winter Lights Festival is illuminating the city until 21 December, transforming iconic landmarks, buildings and bridges. There are light displays at the GPO, Dublin Castle, Merrion Square Park, the River Liffey, and elsewhere.

This City Council arts project is part of a global cultural genre of Winter Lights festivals from Berlin to Beijing and Sydney to Cincinnati. They all use light displays to brighten and bring warmth to the cities during the dark and cold days of winter.

Here are links to twenty other examples around the world. Check them out!

Sample Other Winter Lights Festivals in Europe

Berlin Festival of Lights, Germany
8-25 October 2025
The festival features light productions on world-famous landmarks, monuments, buildings, and squares. The 20th annual festival in 2024 was themed freedom, 35 years after the fall of the Berlin Wall.

Luci d’Artista, Turin, Italy
24 October 2025 - 11 January 2026
Every year, during the winter period, Torino is transformed into an open-air laboratory of light installations by great Italian and international artists. In recent years, Luci d’Artista has evolved into a true institution of contemporary art, now active throughout the year.

Amsterdam Light Festival, Netherlands
27 November 2025 - January 18 2026
Since 2012, Amsterdam Light Festival illuminates the iconic canals of Amsterdam. Every winter, unique light artworks illuminate the city. This year is dedicated to the theme of Legacy, both major historical events and the continuation of family traditions, shared memories, and customs.

Fête des Lumières, Lyon, France
5-8 December 2025
When Lyon is dressed in lights, everybody comes down into the streets to take in the sights. The facades of the city’s most beautiful buildings spring to life under the lights of projectors, and the people of Lyon place ‘lumignons’ (small lanterns) on their windowsills and balconies.

Lux Helsinki, Finland
6-11 January 2026
Lux Helsinki is a five-day light festival in the centre of Helsinki, held annually at the beginning of January. The festival showcases diverse light art along a new route each year. It features new works and popular international installations, drawing over half a million visitors annually.

Winter Lights at Canary Wharf, UK
20-31 January 2026
The Winter Lights festival showcases exceptional light artwork from acclaimed artists and studios around the world. Next year’s festival will follow the theme of Dreamscape, taking our visitors on a journey through surreal, ethereal and uniquely human experiences.

Vilnius Light Festival, Lithuania
23-25 January 2026
During the festival, the central part of Vilnius is transformed into a large open-air gallery of modern light art. New media art, the synthesis of light and architecture transforms the city’s streets, squares and public spaces, revealing the full charm of Vilnius.

Copenhagen Light Festival, Denmark
30 January - 22 February 2026
An annual light festival that transforms the quiet and cold winter darkness into a unique celebration of light art, lighting design, and illumination. It highlights Danish expertise in art, sustainability, and lighting culture during the darkest and even the coldest time of the year.

Bright Brussels Light Festival, Belgium
12-15 February 2026
For ten years now, the Bright Brussels Festival has been lighting up your winter evenings! And for this anniversary edition, a majestic illuminated trail through the historic centre of the capital. Get ready for an unforgettable nocturnal journey, filled with poetic moments.

Reykjavík Winter Lights Festival, Iceland
5-8 February 2026
An annual event that stimulates city life in midwinter. The Festival celebrates both the winter world and the growing light after a long period of darkness. The program is a mixture of art and industry, environment and history, and sports and culture, for Reykjavík’s locals and guests alike.

Sample Other Winter Lights Festivals outside Europe

Beijing Chaoyang Light Festival, China
26 September - 31 October 2025
At the Beijing Olympic Center, the light shows projected on Yang Mountain, the water curtain and the light show of the Olympic Tower dazzle visitors, alongside a spectacular musical fountain 125 meters in width and 30 meters high.

Festival of Lights, St. Petersburg, Russia
November 2025
As the days shorten and the amber leaves of fall flutter to the ground, this festival of lights stands as a beacon of creativity, infusing the historic city with a modern vibrancy. It includes 2D and 3D video mapping, light projections, light beams ,and audiovisual displays.

Osaka Festival of the Lights, Japan
3 November 2025 - 31 January 2026
Light Art Spreading Across the Riverside of Nakanoshima. Step into the Museum of Light, appearing only in Nakanoshima’s winter. This year, in addition to diverse light displays, visitors can also enjoy a gourmet and craft market, a digital stamp rally, and many other attractions.

Winter Lights at the North Carolina Arboretum, USA
15 November 2025 - 4 January 2026
Winter Lights is a spectacular open-air walk-through light show made from over one million lights. This year’s event features favourites like the famously tall 50-foot lighted tree and the Quilt Garden, along with enchanting new details designed to delight and surprise.

Winter Festival of Lights, Niagara Falls, Canada
15 November 2025 - 4 January 2026
To celebrate the beauty and majesty of the winter season, an illumination light show ‘Sparkling Winter Lights’ features the subtle and sometimes harsh movements inspired by winter, from gentle snowfalls and the aurora borealis to blizzards and the frosted falls.

Lumino, Montreal, Canada
27 November 2025 - 8 March 2026
Montreal’s must-see winter event, returning for its 16th edition. From November to March, let yourself be captivated by a dazzling luminous program that evolves and grows richer throughout the winter season, and brings warmth to cold nights in downtown Montreal and the Quartier des Spectacles.

Portland Winter Light Festival, USA
6-14 February 2026
Lighting up the darkest days of winter, this year’s theme explores how the smallest things can carry great weight. A tiny stone can reflect light, and one memory can set you on a path to the future. Light becomes a guide, revealing what is hidden and honouring what is overlooked.

Vivid Sydney, Australia
22 May - 13 June 2026
Vivid Sydney is an annual celebration of creativity, innovation and technology. The city comes to life with awe-inspiring art installations and 3D light projections, lighting the way to inspiring talks, immersive performances, live music and culinary experiences.

i Light Singapore
29 May - 21 June 2025, calls open for 2026
Asia’s leading light festival, i Light Singapore showcases light art installations created by Singaporean and international artists. These artworks are designed to encourage festival goers and the general public to adopt sustainable habits in their everyday lives.

Blink, Cincinnati, USA
8-11 October 2026
Blink is a biennial celebration of public art and light that spans the urban core of Cincinnati and Northern Kentucky. The largest of its kind in USA, the festival’s mission is to nurture a sense of community, connection and inspiration through the medium of public art.

Some Christians including Peadar Tóibín TD want Dublin City Council’s Winter Lights to be renamed Christmas Lights.

This is not about people changing a religious festival to a secular one. It is about some Christians trying to force a religious meaning onto a secular display of art projects.

There’s no problem using the word ‘Christmas’ in a secular sense. We can say ‘Goodbye’ without meaning ‘God be with you’ and we can do things on Thursday without celebrating Thor.

It would also be okay for the City Council to use the word Christmas in a secular sense. That would only be a problem if the Council was overtly pushing religion during a secular festival.

It’s also a problem that the State funds the Catholic church to run our schools, and makes the President swear a religious oath, and that RTÉ broadcasts a Catholic call to prayer every day at prime time.

But that’s not what is happening here. This is what the issue is:

• Dublin City Council has organised The Dublin Winter Lights since 2018. It’s never been called Christmas lights.

• It’s a series of interactive light installations, artwork projections, landmarks and city-centre experiences, with no reference to religious worship or faith communities.

• It’s not about Christmas, but about winter, which is dark and suitable for light displays. And it’s not just for Christians, but for everybody, regardless of their religious or nonreligious beliefs.

• The traditional Christmas lights are still operating, and still run through the DublinTown business levy. Dublin Winter Lights is a separate project that lights up bridges and landmark buildings.

Evolution of the secular word Christmas

Traditions evolve over time, and part of the tradition of Christmas today is debating whether the word ‘Christmas’ is religious or secular.

• Long before Christianity, Pagans and Norse had midwinter festivals to celebrate the turn of the seasons and rebirth of life.

• Three centuries after Jesus, Christians decided to celebrate his birth on the same date as these winter festivals, to help people to convert more easily.

• The word ‘Cristes Maesse’ was first used in Old English around the eleventh century, and became ‘Christmas’ around the sixteenth century.

• In the western world, the tradition of giving gifts also started around then, followed by Christmas cards around the nineteenth century.

• In the 1930s, Coca Cola rebranded Santa Claus as a plump red-suited man with a white beard.

In Ireland today, ‘Christmas’ now has two meanings:

• Some Christians primarily celebrate what they believe to be the birth of Jesus.

• Most people celebrate a secular mid-winter break where we meet family and exchange gifts.

What matters is what happens, not the word

It’s not a problem for the City Council to use the word Christmas in a secular sense. There would only be a problem if the Council was overtly pushing religion during a secular event. Examples of such problems in Ireland include:

• The state funding the Catholic church to run nearly all of our primary schools, with exemptions from our equality laws to allow them to discriminate.

• The state forcing the President, judges, and Taoiseach to swear a religious oath to take office. There is nothing secular about asking God to direct and sustain you.

• RTE broadcasting the Angelus, which is an explicitly Catholic call to prayer, on prime time television every day.

But this issue is the opposite of that. It is some Christians trying to force a religious meaning onto a secular display of art projects.

The video below is John Hamill and I discussing the issue on Newstalk Radio yesterday. Happy secular Christmas!

Twelve years ago this month, at the Oxford Union, I proposed the motion that religion harms society. It’s still relevant today.

For context, religion also helps society, and secular ideologies also harm society. In proposing this motion, I focus on how religion harms society.

Religion harms society

In the 1970s, the IRA used condoms as part of the internal mechanisms of their bombs, and some IRA members were opposed to using condoms on moral grounds.

Today in Belfast, the Health Minister is a Young Earth Creationist who rejects evolution. The High Court has just found him to be irrational for banning gay men from giving blood.

Today in Rome, the Vatican still protects priests who have raped children. And Irish State Tribunals have found that Catholic Bishops have positively lied and deliberately misled.

Today in Pakistan, Asia Bibi, a Christian mother, faces execution by hanging for allegedly blaspheming against Muhammad. And two politicians who defended her have been murdered – one by his own bodyguard.

Today in Wisconsin, two parents have been jailed for reckless homicide, because they prayed over their dying child instead of calling an ambulance.

Recently, Cardinal Cormac Murphy O’Connor told the BBC that atheists are not fully human.

Religion corrupts our sense of reality, and it corrupts our sense of morality, and these two corruptions combine to harm society and to cause terrible suffering.

Firstly, religion corrupts our sense of reality.

It encourages us to believe implausible and untestable assertions on faith, by which I mean believing things because we want to believe them, disproportionately to the evidence.

But before I get into that, I have some good news for all of you. I spoke today with Bill Gates of Microsoft, and he is going to give each of you ten million dollars if you vote with me on this motion. Now, none of you believe that is true. You know that I am making it up.

But if I told you instead that I have some good news for all of you, that I spoke today with the creator of the universe, and that he will give each of you an eternity in paradise if you do what I say … Well, some of you here might believe me. Certainly, many people around the world would believe me.

That is because because religion corrupts our sense of reality.

We normally believe that claims are true or false by assessing the available evidence. And as claims become increasingly implausible, we proportionately raise the bar of the evidence that we require.

But with religion, we do the opposite. As the claims become increasingly implausible, we instead lower the bar of the evidence that we require.

Because religion encourages us to believe not only implausible claims, but literally untestable claims. And then it insists that we live our lives on the basis of these untestable claims.

Compare this with secular faiths that cause harm, such as faith in fascism, communism or the unregulated free market. Eventually these faiths bump into reality, and we realise they are not working. But religious faith hides its testability in an imaginary afterlife.

Secondly, religion corrupts our sense of morality.

Morality is a natural function of our brains. It has evolved in the brains of social animals, including humans, because both cooperation and competition help us to survive.

In recent generations, we have refined our sense of morality. We increasingly respect individual conscience, personal rights, and the rights of non-human animals.

It is already hard enough to find the best balance between the requirements compassion, empathy, suffering, wellbeing, cooperation, reciprocity, fairness and justice.

But religion corrupts this already-difficult process by adding in invented supernatural commands that are unrelated to compassion, suffering or justice.

And religion insists that our natural morality is trumped by what some people believe that the creator of the universe is telling them to enforce on the rest of us.

And so many Catholics justify denying condoms to AIDS victims in Africa. And many Muslims justify the claim in the Quran that husbands can beat their wives.

And last year, when an Irish hospital denied an abortion requested by Savita Halappanavar, whose fetus had no chance of survival, and who ended up dying herself, her husband was told in the hospital that Ireland is a Catholic country.

Not only is religion not needed for morality, but religion actively corrupts morality.

Finally, please keep your focus on the motion.

Don’t be distracted by claims that religion can also do good. That is true, and it is also true that religion harms society.

Don’t be distracted by claims that secular ideologies can also do bad. That is true, and it is also true that religion harms society.

Today you are asked whether religion harms society, not whether religion also does good, and not whether other things also do bad.

However implausible the idea may be that I spoke to Bill Gates today, it is surely even more implausible that a supreme being created a universe of a thousand billion galaxies, each of which contains a hundred billion stars like our sun, so that he could tell one member of one species on one planet to stone a man to death for gathering sticks on the Sabbath, and then impregnate a virgin in order to give birth to himself, and give Muhammad a ride on a flying horse, and appear in Joseph Smith’s hat in order to attire him in magic underwear.

And on the basis of invented and untestable absurdities like this, Asia Bibi is today languishing in a prison cell in Pakistan, waiting to be executed by hanging for allegedly blaspheming against Muhammad.

Religion corrupts our sense of reality, and it corrupts our sense of morality, and these two corruptions combine to harm society and to cause terrible suffering.

I propose the motion.

Yesterday, alone in my telly room, I jumped in the air and screamed louder than a Spinal Tap amp that goes up to eleven, when Troy Parrott scored his last-gasp winner against Hungary.

Minutes later, I cried along with Troy, as he was interviewed wiping tears from his eyes with his football shirt. This is why football is the beautiful game.

Every fan has a store of such crazy memories, when real life melts away before the magical world of fully-grown adults kicking a ball around a field for ninety minutes.

Half of my top ten magic moments came in my childhood.

• 1970, on our old black-and-white telly. Brazil v Italy, Mexico World Cup final. Pelé strokes the ball into empty space. From off-screen, Carlos Alberto hurtles in and slams a low shot home.

• 1972, on our new colour telly. Leeds v Arsenal, centenary FA Cup final. My dad is fifty, exactly half the age of the FA Cup. Mick Jones crosses for Sniffer Clarke to score with a diving header.

• 1974, Dalymount. Ireland v USSR, Euro qualifier. I’m crushed in the crowd as Don Givens scores a hat-trick for Ireland to surprisingly beat the mighty Soviets.

• 1976, Dalymount. Bohs v Waterford, League of Ireland. We’re down to nine men, but God-of-Goals Turly scores twice as we beat a Waterford side that includes World Cup winner Bobby Charlton.

• 1977, Dalymount. Ireland v League of Ireland, friendly. Us against ourselves. The boisterous shed end divides between fans chanting for Ireland and the League of Ireland. I support the local heroes I watch every week.

The other five brought adult me back to childhood:

• 1984, Dalymount. Bohs v Rangers, UEFA Cup. My part-time heroes beat the pros of Glasgow Rangers, as world war three erupts on the terraces.

• 1990, College Green. Half a million welcome the Boys in Green home from the Italy World Cup. The culmination of the crazy summer that made soccer an Irish obsession.

• 1998, Paris. France v Brazil, World Cup final. Zenedine Zidane heads home a corner, which I photograph from the stands with a ‘camera’. This is a physical object, not an app.

• 2002, City West Hotel. Reunion dinner for the Leeds 1972 FA Cup winners. I return to childhood, pestering middle-aged men to autograph a replica programme.

• 2016, England. Leicester City win the Premier League. In a game now dominated by insane amounts of money, the shock champions started as 5,000-1 outsiders.

I could easily double that list (Radford v Newcastle, Clarke v QPR, Shelly v Drogheda, Turly v Sligo, Kempes v Netherlands, Packie v Romania, Houghton v Italy, Ryan v Shels, Aguero v QPR; Hernandez v Swansea).

But these are my unfiltered, stream-of-consciousness, top ten football memories, so I’ll stick with them until I change them.

And yesterday’s edition of Troy of the Rovers is up there with the best of them. A must-win away game, days after toppling Portugal made it mean anything.

One down after three minutes. A defiant peno, then behind again. A late second leveller, and relentless pressure. The dreaded Irish moral victory looms.

With seconds left, Troy completes his hat-trick. Yes!!!! It’s the best real Irish victory in decades, with the promise of more to come. Olé, Olé-Olé-Olé, Olé, Olé.

Today, Ireland swears in yet another president in a ceremony that prevents a conscientious atheist from honestly taking office.

Why? Because the Constitution requires them to swear a religious oath that begins “In the presence of Almighty God” and ends “May God direct and sustain me.” The Preamble makes clear this God is the Holy Trinity “from Whom is all authority.”

In the last census, a million people, or one in every five, either said they have no religion (14%) or didn’t answer the question (7%). That’s with a leading question that likely inflates the religious number. Of every ten Irish marriages, four are now secular. This is twice as many as twenty years ago.

But regardless of the numbers, we wouldn’t dream of requiring a religious person to swear there isn’t a god. So why do we require an atheist to swear there is? Under international human rights law, we are all equally protected by the right to freedom of religion or belief.

Atheist Ireland campaigns, here and at the United Nations, for One Oath for All. Holders of high public office should make a single, neutral declaration to uphold the Constitution, with no reference to their personal beliefs. That is how a Republic should treat its citizens equally.

Protecting nonreligious beliefs

This problem isn’t limited to the Presidency. There are similar oaths required to be a judge or members of the Council of State. This includes the Taoiseach and Tánaiste. And these oaths are written into the Constitution, so a referendum is needed to change them.

The European Court of Human Rights says the right to freedom of religion and belief is one of the foundations of a democratic society. It has also held that the right to manifest your religion or belief has a negative aspect.

This means the State cannot oblige you to disclose your beliefs. Nor can it oblige you to act in such a way that it is possible to infer that you hold, or do not hold, beliefs. That is intervening in the sphere of your freedom of conscience.

What is the legal test of whether a nonreligious philosophical belief is protected? It must attain a certain level of cogency, seriousness, cohesion and importance, and be worthy of respect in a democratic society. Atheism, agnosticism, and secularism are all protected.

The right to hold or change your belief is absolute and unconditional. The right to manifest your beliefs can be limited by law, but only if necessary in a democratic society to pursue a legitimate aim. These religious oaths do not satisfy that test.

Legal concerns ignored for decades

This isn’t a new concern.

• In 1996, the Constitution Review Group called for these oaths to be replaced. They said judges in particular should swear a single, neutral oath. Why? A choice of oaths could create the impression of religious and nonreligious judges.

• In 2008, 2014 and 2023, the UN Human Rights Committee told Ireland to end these oaths, taking into account the right not to be compelled to reveal one’s thoughts or adherence to a religion or belief in public.

• In 2013, Tánaiste Eamon Gilmore was on record as not believing in God. Yet he had to swear an oath in order to sit on the Council of State, which was a necessary function of being Tánaiste.

• That year, six of the President’s Council of State asked the Convention on the Constitution to remove the oath. They included former Supreme Court judge Catherine McGuinness and solicitor Michael Farrell. They said the oath “could exclude or cause embarrassment to atheists, agnostics and humanists. It could also be unacceptable to Quakers and other Christians who do not approve of religious oaths, and members of other non-Christian faiths.”

• In 2021, President Michael D. Higgins told BBC Radio Ulster that the religious oath he swore during his inauguration should be removed and replaced with an affirmation.

• Also that year, Roisin Shortall TD and four other citizens brought the issue to the European Court of Human Rights. The Court did not hear the case, as the five were not direct victims, but it noted the UN Human Rights Committee has criticised the oath.

• In 2023, the European Court referred to the Irish oaths in its factsheet on freedom of religion. It said the reference by a State to a tradition could not relieve it of its obligation to respect the rights and freedoms enshrined in the Convention.

• Earlier this year, Barry Ward TD introduced a private members bill to amend the oath that judges must swear. His Bill, like the Constitution Review Group proposal, seeks a single, neutral oath for all judges.

We should take oaths of office seriously

It undermines freedom of belief, and democracy itself, to treat such oaths as empty phrases to be said with a nod and a wink. If you don’t have to mean that part of the oath, why do you have to mean any of it? We urgently need a referendum to remove these oaths, and protect equally everybody’s right to freedom of religion or belief.

The Department of Education is conducting a misleading and harmful survey of primary school parents and guardians, staff, and management board members.

• It misleadingly implies that parents are being given an option to choose non-religious schools, when in reality they are not.

• It harmfully implies that the human right to an objective, critical, and pluralistic education is subject to surveys of a family’s neighbours.

Why the survey is misleading

One of the three main questions is: “Would you prefer your primary school to operate under a denominational (religious) patron or to operate under a multi-denominational (non-religious) patron?”

However, The relevant issue is not the religious makeup of the patron body. It is whether the school has a religious ethos, and multi-denominational schools are by definition religious. Atheism, humanism, and secularism are not denominations.

In practice, schools classified in Ireland as multi-denominational can have a Catholic chaplain, have religious worship, and celebrate religious festivals. They also have religion and ethics courses that they, not the parents, deem to be suitable for all children.

There are no non-religious (or non-denominational, or secular) schools in Ireland. The government has no plans to open such schools. This survey does not include the option for parents to express a preference for them.

Why the survey is harmful

Under European law and UN human rights treaties, every child has a right to an objective, critical, and pluralistic education. This includes a neutral studying environment, outside the confines of religious instruction classes that the child can decline to attend.

This should be the default type of local primary school in any neighbourhood. Any local child should have equal access, and have their rights respected, regardless of the religious or nonreligious beliefs of their parents or indeed their neighbours.

If religious parents want religious education for their children, they should be able to organise that, as an alternative option to a default secular school system that all local children should have access to.

But it is harmful to the human rights of parents, and to society generally, that a Department of Education survey should give parents an option to choose between two types of religious schools, denominational and multi-denominational, with one type misleadingly implied to be non-religious.

Denominational and Multi-denominational schools

• The phrases denominational inter-denominational, and multi-denominational are not legally defined in Ireland, and the Department and schools unilaterally make up definitions.

• In reality, denominations are subgroups within a religion, eg Catholic and Protestant within Christianity, or Sunni and Shia within Islam.

• Non-religious worldviews such as atheism, humanism or secularism are not denominations. They are not covered by the term multi-denominational.

• The High Court in the Campaign case in 1996 found that ETB (then VEC community and comprehensive) schools established under a deed of trust could be regarded as denominational. Despite this, they are registered with the Department as multi-denominational.

• The UN has explicitly called on Ireland to open nondenominational schools, and not merely multi-denominational ones.

Atheist Ireland will continue to campaign for a secular state education system that respects human rights, regardless of the religious or nonreligious beliefs of parents, children, staff, or board members.

Speakers included Janie Lazar of End of Life Ireland, Dr Brendan O’Shea of Doctors Supporting MAID, Ivana Bacik TD Leader of the Labour Party, Jen Cummins TD of the Social Democrats, Michael Nugent of Atheist Ireland, and Tom Curran of End of Life Ireland.

The Talk: Religious Trauma and Your Brain

Religious ideologies create psychological conflicts that have life long consequences. Even people who were never raised religious, often hold beliefs that are harmful and destructive and rooted in ancient religious ideas. At Recovering from Religion we see the evidence every day when people call to say they are concerned about a loved one who has been taken in by a religious or political ideology.

People who discover that the things they were taught as a child are not true yet still frightens them. People who tell us they don’t believe in any gods but still fear hell or Armageddon. People who feel intense shame for natural sexual desires and feelings. This behaviour is clear evidence that the brain has been impacted, especially the limbic system where fear is processed.

In this talk, Dr Ray explores why it is so difficult for many people to discard these beliefs and how the organisation, Recovering from Religion helps anyone needing hope, healing and support as they deconstruct the ideology of religions or a high control groups. From multilevel marketing schemes to Catholic sexual dogma, all can trap our brains in an ideological prison that undermines our humanity.

The Speaker: Dr Darrel Ray

Dr Darrel Ray practiced clinical psychology for a decade before transitioning to organisational psychology, where he focused on team dynamics and workplace culture. He authored two books on organisational development: Teaming Up: Making the Transition to a Self-Directed, Team-Based Organisation and The Performance Culture: Maximising the Power of Teams.

In 2009, Dr Ray founded Recovering from Religion (RfR), a nonprofit organisation dedicated to supporting individuals dealing with religious trauma, doubt, and non-belief. Under his leadership, RfR has expanded to include a global network of volunteers, online support groups, and resources for those transitioning away from religious belief. In 2012, he launched the Secular Therapy Project, connecting clients with secular, evidence-based mental health professionals.

Dr Ray is also the author of The God Virus: How Religion Infects Our Lives and Culture, and Sex and God: How Religion Distorts Sexuality, works that explore how religious belief systems can influence personal behavior and societal norms, particularly concerning sexuality.

Throughout his career, Dr Ray has been a vocal advocate for secularism and mental health, emphasising the importance of science-based approaches to therapy and the challenges faced by individuals leaving religious communities.

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We often read about millions, billions, and trillions with no real idea of the size of those numbers. A guitar is a metre long. A thousand guitars would fit end-to-end along Sydney Harbour Bridge with a bit of room to spare. So far, that’s easy, if a bit odd, to picture.

But when we go beyond millions, the numbers grow incredibly. For each step up, add three noughts to the end of the number.

• A million metres brings you from London to Italy.

• A billion metres takes you around the world 25 times.

• A trillion metres covers more than three round trips to and from the Sun.

If you’re a healthy adult, you might walk at 5km an hour. You would take 12 minutes to walk a thousand metres, and eight days to cover a million metres. To reach a billion metres, you would have to walk non-stop for nearly 23 years. Then things start to get unimaginable.

To walk a trillion metres non-stop, you would have started in the Old Stone Age, about 20,800 BCE. You would have walked non-stop until now, for three-hundred lifetimes of 75 years each. You would be on your two-millionth pair of walking shoes. And you would be pretty tired.

What if we jump to a quadrillion metres? That’s the same as a trillion kilometres. You would have started walking alongside the early apes of the Miocene Epoch in 20.8 million BCE. By now, you would have covered, far more slowly, forty times the distance Voyager 1 has traveled from Earth since 1977.

We’ve now gone from the length of a guitar to one tenth of a light year, which is the distance light travels in a year, moving at 300,000 km per second. Here is how the numbers grow every time you go up a distance.

1 metre

• ≈ The length of a standard guitar

• ≈ The width of a standard single bed

1,000 metres

• = 1 kilometre

• ≈ Slightly shorter than Sydney Harbour Bridge

• ≈ Two and a half laps of a typical running track

• ≈ 12 minutes nonstop brisk walking at 5 km per hour

100,000 metres

• = 100 kilometres

• ≈ Dublin City Centre to Kilkenny

• ≈ Tower of London to Ipswich

• ≈ Times Square to New Haven, Connecticut

• ≈ 20 hours nonstop brisk walking at 5 km per hour

1 million metres

• = 1,000,000 metres

• = 1,000 kilometres

• ≈ Dublin City Centre to Bordeaux, France

• ≈ Tower of London to Genoa, Italy

• ≈ Times Square to Columbia, South Carolina

• ≈ 8.3 days nonstop brisk walking at 5 km per hour

• ≈ Walking nonstop from yesterday of last week to now

1 billion metres

• = 1,000,000,000 metres

• = 1 million kilometres

• ≈ 25 times the circumference of the Earth

• ≈ 22.8 years nonstop brisk walking at 5 km per hour

• ≈ Walking nonstop from 2002 to 2025

• ≈ More than a round trip to and from the Moon

1 trillion metres

• = 1,000,000,000,000 metres

• = 1 billion kilometres

• ≈ 2,500 times the circumference of the Earth

• ≈ 22,800 years nonstop brisk walking at 5 km per hour

• ≈ Walking nonstop from the Old Stone Age to now

• ≈ More than three round trips to and from the Sun

1 quadrillion metres

• = 1,000,000,000,000,000 metres

• = 1 trillion kilometres

• ≈ 22.8 million years nonstop brisk walking at 5 km per hour

• ≈ Walking nonstop since the early apes of the Miocene Epoch

• ≈ Forty times the distance Voyager 1 has travelled since 1977

• ≈ Just over one tenth of a light-year

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The Irish Presidential candidates debated on telly this week. Too many questions were about their political views. This is outside the constitutional role of the President. Here are ten relevant questions that future debate hosts could ask them.

Taking Office

1. Article 12.8 says the President must make a declaration ‘In the presence of Almighty God’ and say ‘May God direct and sustain me.’ Having made this religious declaration, what steps would you take to foster a Presidency inclusive of all citizens including the nonreligious?

General Powers and Limits

2. Article 13.9 says the President can exercise powers only on the advice of the government, unless a specific Article gives personal discretion, and there is a long-standing convention that the Presidency is above party politics. Some recent Presidents have tested the boundaries of this. Would you do this, and if so how would you ensure that you respect and remain within constitutional limits?

3. Article 13.2.3 says the President may convene a meeting of the Oireachtas, and Article 13.7 says the President may address the Oireachtas and/or the nation with a message approved by the government on any matter of national and public importance. What topics would justify you convening such a meeting and/or seeking government approval to make such an address? And what principles would you use to keep your messages above party politics?

Specific Powers and Limits

4. What specific criteria would you use before exercising the following powers, and would you publicly explain the reasons for your decisions?

• Appointing members of the Council of State (Article 31.3)

• Refusing to dissolve Dáil Éireann on the advice of a Taoiseach who has ceased to retain a Dáil majority (13.2.2)

• Referring a Bill to the Supreme Court to test its constitutionality (26.1.1)

• Referring a Bill to the people by referendum, if asked to do so by a majority of Senators and a third of TDs who say it is of sufficient national importance (27.4.1)

• Exercising the supreme command of the Defence Forces (13.4) as regulated by law (13.5.1)

• Exercising the right of pardon and the power to commute or remit punishment imposed by a criminal court (13.6)

What Would You have Done?

5. In 1976, President Cearbhall Ó Dálaigh resigned ‘to protect the dignity and independence of the presidency as an institution’, after the Defence Minister insulted him for referring a Bill to the Supreme Court. What would you have done, and under what circumstances would you consider resigning as President?

6. In 1982, President Patrick Hillery refused to engage with opposition TDs phoning to urge him to not dissolve the Dáil after the budget fell. Instead he granted the dissolution. What would you have done, and who if anyone would you engage with?

7. In 1997, President Mary Robinson left office eleven weeks early to take up the position of United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights. What would you have done, and are there any circumstances in which you would leave office before your term has finished?

8. In 2005, President Mary McAleese apologised after comparing irrational hatred of Catholics in Northern Ireland to irrational hatred of Jews in Nazi Germany. How would you stress-test your public statements to avoid unintended controversy, and how would you react if it happened?

9. In 2021, President Michael D Higgins declined to attend a church service in Armagh with the British Queen to mark the creation of Northern Ireland because the event had become politicised. What would you have done, and what criteria would you use to determine whether an event had become so politicised to warrant you not attending?

10. In 2023, President Michael D Higgins apologised after implying the British chair of a forum on international security was biased, but did not apologise for warning of an Irish government drift away from the policy of military neutrality. What would you have done, and what topics are appropriate for the President to comment on, and in what way, without straying into policy?

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Of every ten Irish people, only one now says they are religious only, three say spiritual only, and another two say they are both. Another three say they are neither, and one doesn’t know. That’s from a recent survey by Amárach for the Iona Institute.

This survey updates a previous Iona/Amárach survey in 2011. Back then, seven in ten said they were Catholic. Today, all forms of religious identification combined are down to just three in ten, two of whom say they are also spiritual.

But instead of highlighting this massive decline in religion, the new report combines the figures for religious and spiritual together, including those who say they are spiritual but not religious.

This allows them to conclude that ‘The majority (61%) of people in Ireland describe themselves as religious and/or spiritual.’ And this is technically true.

But it is just as accurate, and more revealing, to conclude that ‘The vast majority (69%) of people in Ireland do not describe themselves as religious, the exact same proportion who identified as Catholic in 2011.’

The growing impact of spirituality

The 2011 survey didn't ask about spirituality. This one did, which raised an interesting unasked question. With this nuance added, would many nonreligious people indirectly reveal themselves as spiritual rather than atheist?

This does not seem to have happened. Three in ten now say they are neither religious nor spiritual. Instead, the spiritual option seems to have freed nuanced people from identifying only as religious or not religious.

With some overlaps, nearly half now identify as not religious, another half identify as spiritual, and only three in ten identify as religious. Here’s how those top line figures break down:

• Only 31% identify as religious (either with or without spirituality)

• 49% identify as spiritual (either with or without religion)

• 47% identify as not religious (either with or without spirituality)

• 30% identify as neither religious nor spiritual

• 9% don’t know

So what does this massive culture shift mean for Irish society?

Similar trend in Irish marriages

This survey fits in with recent trends in Irish marriages. This year, the CSO published partial data based on last year’s marriage figures. Atheist Ireland then obtained and published the full breakdown by ceremony type.

Of every ten Irish marriages, four are now secular. This is twice as many as twenty years ago. Within this, Civil Registry marriages are now the most popular. In the past two years alone, they are up from a quarter of all marriages to a third.

Just over a third of Irish marriages are now Christian. This is down from a massive eighty percent twenty years ago. Within this, in the past two years alone, Catholic marriages have dropped from most popular at four in ten, to second place with three in ten.

Almost a quarter of Irish marriages are now some variation of Spiritualist, Pagan, or Celtic. This is up from zero twenty years ago, and up from twenty percent two years ago. These are legally classified as religious, but are very different to traditional religious weddings.

If this trend continues, these could overtake Christian marriages, and be the second most popular type behind Secular.

Iona Institute briefing note on New Age weddings

The Iona Institute produced a briefing note last year on the rapid rise in what it calls New Age weddings. This asked: ‘A big question is how the mainstream Churches should respond. How can they re-engage with couples and how far should it go to do so?’

Some extracts from this briefing note include:

‘It is difficult to classify some of these emerging religious organisations but many practice a bespoke type of spirituality tailored to the couple’s desires. They could loosely be described as ‘New Age’, but this is a contested term. (p3)

Citing Heelas and Woodward, Løøv elucidates what she means by New Age by outlining the difference between ‘subjective-life spiritualities’ and ‘life-as-religion’.

• In ‘life-as-religion’ (Catholicism is an example), authority is embedded in a hierarchical structure and theological dogmas, and the individual is expected to adhere to a preordained system of beliefs and values.

• In contrast, subjective-life spiritualities are characterised by an emphasis on the individual self as the authority, agent, and goal of spiritual practices. (p4)

The Pew Research Center has pointed out that many US Christians also hold New Age beliefs, including ‘belief in reincarnation, astrology, psychics and the presence of spiritual energy in physical objects like mountains or trees’. The situation is probably no different in Ireland, with some people not even realising (for example) a belief in reincarnation is incompatible with Christianity. (p4)

What is clear is that it is misleading to describe these broadly New Age organisations as denominations, which implies a degree of adherence to institutional religion that they emphatically reject. (p4)

These extracts show how institutional religions are uneasy with self-identification and individual choice. That’s one of the core issues that these trends reveal. Let’s continue with more extracts:

‘While increasing secularisation and the impact of several decades of sexual abuse scandals are implicated in the drop in Catholic weddings, there are also several commercial drivers of the phenomenon. [Weddings in venues other than registry offices] did not take place until 2007, when as Carl O’Brien of the Irish Times said, ‘Hotels, castles and country houses [were] queuing up to cash in on changes to marriage laws.’ (p4)

It raises questions for the Christian Churches. Why are people drawn to these ceremonies? What impact is it having on traditional Christian belief? And is there anything the Churches can do to encourage more couples to participate in Christian marriage? (p5)

If, however, we believe as Christians in the Good News, we cannot be sanguine about so many seeking alternative meaning systems, some of which are antithetical to Christianity, at such a crucial transition time as deciding to marry, even if we allow that some are being nudged towards these ceremonies by hotels for commercial reasons. (p6)’

How should we respond to these trends?

The purpose of the Iona Institute, as a registered charity, is to advance and promote the Christian religion, and its social and moral values. Its response to these two developments is interesting.

• In one case, it masks the decline in self-identified Christianity by combining the figures for religious and spiritual together.

• In the other case, it faces the contradictions between Christianity and spiritualism, and asks how the mainstream churches should respond.

Atheist Ireland argues we should acknowledge the reality of where we are, and build from there. Three recent referenda (on marriage equality, abortion, and blasphemy) have shown that the Irish people are broadly two to one in favour of a more secular state. Only about one in three Irish people support traditionally religious positions on social issues.

The Catholic Church no longer controls the minds of the Irish people. But it still benefits from legacy laws and our 1937 Constitution. Our state-funded schools still teach religion as truth. Our Constitution still requires religious oaths to hold the highest offices, including judges and whoever wins the coming presidential election.

It’s time our state caught up with its people. A pluralist people deserves a secular state.

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Do I have free will, or does my body just do things and let me notice later? I ask this because of something that recently happened to me.

I am recovering from diabetic amyotrophy, which wasted away my muscles and stopped my nerve signals from working. While spending months in hospital, and after I returned home, I had to physically lift my legs into and out of bed with my hands.

Then one morning, months after returning home, I woke up and swung my legs out of bed without even thinking about it. I know I was not consciously thinking about doing this, as I had adapted to not being able to do so.

Presumably this was able to happen because nerves were regrowing, but I didn't consciously decide to try it that morning. It just happened and then I noticed it. And I wondered: what did this mean for the idea that I take decisions by free will? And how did it fit in with brain experiments I had read about?

Libet’s half-second head start

Back in the 1980s, Benjamin Libet used EEG to record the brain activity of people who were asked to press a button when they felt the urge to do so. They watched a clock with a rotating dot, and reported the position of the dot when they became aware of their intention to act.

Libet found brain activity started about half a second before the person moved their finger, and about a fifth of a second before they thought they decided to move it.

This suggests the physical brain "decided" to press the button, before the conscious mind caught up and thought it was making the decision.

Some years later Chun Soon did a similar experiment using fMRI. In this, the people had to choose between pressing one of two buttons, one under either index finger.

They pressed a button on average every 22 seconds. But the brain activity, that predicted which button would be pressed, began seven seconds before the person was conscious of the decision.

Since fMRI takes a few seconds to detect brain activity, the real start of the process could be up to ten seconds before the person thought they'd made a decision.

My legs suddenly moving

How does this fit in with my legs suddenly moving without me consciously telling them to? Well, it is similar in that both events involve physical brains starting to move body parts before the person consciously notices that the process has started.

But it is different in that I wasn’t consciously thinking about pressing a button. Indeed, I wasn’t thinking at all about my legs moving, because it had been impossible for many months. Also, I had mentally adapted to having to use my hands to move my legs.

Presumably what happened is something like this. As I recovered from my illness, the nerves that tell my legs to move recovered so that they could react to signals from my brain.

My physical brain then sent a signal that caused my legs to move and swing out of bed. My conscious mind then noticed this had happened and went ‘Wow! I just moved my legs!’ I then beamed like a deaf baby on a TikTok video hearing for the first time.

But nowhere during the process was my conscious mind in control of, or even involved in, what happened. It just noticed that my legs had done something, and in circumstances where I could not confuse it with my conscious mind taking a decision.

My physical brain versus my conscious mind

Does this mean my physical brain generates and controls my conscious mind? Or are the two just different aspects of the same thing? That’s something I want to explore more.

Even before this, I was skeptical of free will. I could not imagine how an immaterial mind could interact with a physical body to cause things to happen.

I didn’t believe (and still don’t believe) that this means everything is predetermined. A being could do different things in the same circumstances without taking a conscious decision.

But I now lean more to believing that the “decisions” are ultimately made by my physical brain, rather than by my conscious mind.

That said, maybe my brain and my conscious mind are different parts of the same entity. That combined entity would then collectively be ‘me’.

And it would be accurate to say that ‘I’ make decisions, just in a different way.

Is that still free will? Or just an attempt to explain an illusion? More soon.

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