Article

Atheism

Belief

12 April 2024

5 min read

Dawkins is wrong about the nature of belief

You can’t rejoice in its collapse and like its cultural inheritance too.

Yaroslav Walker

Yaroslav is Vicar of Christ Church, Hampstead.

A man sits and speaks, against a background of a bookcase.

Dawkins on LBC.

Richard Dawkins sat in a tree,

Sawing every branch he could see,

As he sawed through the branch on which he sat,

He raged, "It's not fair that I should go splat!"

I am a recovering New Atheist. I was such a New Atheist that I have a claim to fame: I have given what-for to Anne Widdecombe and the Archbishop Emeritus of Abuja. I was there, as a spotty, greasy haired, angry teenager when Christopher Hitchens and Stephen Fry socked-it-to the Roman Catholics at an Intelligence Squared debate. The motion was ‘The Catholic Church is a Force for Good in the World’. The question I asked was so poorly formed that the moderator deemed it a comment.

I was a callow youth. Forgive me.

I am now not quite so young and not quite so spotty. Now that I am a man, I have put away childish things. I have abandoned atheism and embraced faith in Jesus Christ. I am a priest in the Church of England, fully in favour of the Ten Commandments and the moral framework of the Church. Clearly, I’ve been on a journey.

So, it seems, has Professor Richard Dawkins.

The author of The God Delusion, and scourge of many public Christian thinkers and apologists, has recently made some turbulent waves. Having surfed the tides of New Atheism, he now seems to be swimming against the current. He is a proud ‘cultural Christian’. In an interview on LBC he forcefully defended the Christian inheritance of this country:

“I do think that we are culturally a Christian country…I call myself a ‘cultural Christian’… I love hymns and Christmas carols…I feel at home in the Christian ethos… I find that I like to live in a culturally Christian country…”

Professor Dawkins went on to clarify (several times!) that he doesn’t believe a single word of Christian doctrine or the Bible. He was cheered by the continued decline in the numbers of believing Christians in this country. This wasn’t his Christianity. He argued that the distinction between a ‘believing Christian’ and a ‘cultural Christian’ is such that one can be both a very firm atheist and a ‘cultural Christian’. He doesn’t want people believing the Virgin Birth or the Resurrection of Jesus, but he does want us to keep our Cathedrals and beautiful parish churches. At first reading this could be seen as positive - an unlikely defender of the Christian faith coming to the rescue of a beleaguered Church.

It isn’t.

What the interview demonstrated was that Professor Dawkins doesn’t really understand the nature of belief or the nature of culture. If he did, he would understand a basic principle: culture doesn’t just magically appear and grow. Culture is formed and maintained from fundamental beliefs.

You can’t have the fruits without the roots.

Professor Dawkins likes church music. He likes the architecture of grand Cathedrals. He likes living in a society with a Western liberal ethic. All three of these fruits have grown from roots of the Christian tradition, and not just any Christian tradition. They have grown out of the BELIEVING Christian tradition.

Why on earth would people spend inordinate amounts of time and money building Cathedrals if they didn’t actually believe the worship of God was important? Why would musicians pour out the best of their creativity into sacred music if not for a love of Jesus? Why would they structure our society in a way that sees the care of the poor and oppressed as a fundamental necessity if they don’t take the Sermon on the Mount seriously?

People don’t die because they quite like a soft cultural inheritance - they die because they believe!

Professor Dawkins finds himself living in a world that has been so shaped and saturated by Christianity that even our secularism has been called ‘Christian’. He lives in a Christian house. He likes it. Now he thinks he can have it and keep it while seeking to undermine and destroy the very beliefs that are the foundation, the stones, the mortar.

He can’t.

You don’t get to demand that everyone build their house on sand, and then complain that it is collapsing…and he does worry that it is collapsing. Predictably, he opened the interview by discussing his qualms about Islam and how he wouldn’t want this country to change from being ‘culturally Christian’ to ‘culturally Muslim’: “Insofar as Christianity can be seen as a bulwark against Islam I think it’s a very good thing.” I find this invocation of my faith offensive - not just because I believe my faith is ‘the truth’ (not just a club for angry atheists to bash Muslims with), but because it is so stupid!

I use the word advisedly.

It is a comment from a man who can’t seem to understand cause-and-effect. People who don’t believe strongly in something don’t fight for it. Rejoicing in the collapse of Christian belief while expecting it to protect you from other religions is about as obtuse as an individual can get. The Church grew, and spread, and produced the hymns and cathedrals and ethics that Professor Dawkins loves so much, because of people’s firm belief in Jesus Christ as our Risen Saviour. People died to spread this faith - THIS CULTURE! As Tertullian said: “…the blood of martyrs is the seed of the Church.” People don’t die because they quite like a soft cultural inheritance - they die because they believe!

It was this realisation that led me to where I am now. I found that everything I cared about flowed from the Christian faith I rejected, so I rejected it no more. I wanted to continue enjoying the ‘fruits’ of my ‘cultural Christianity’, so I stopped hacking away at the ‘roots’ of ‘believing Christianity’. Professor Dawkins is seemingly wilfully blind to this fact: ‘believing Christian’s make it possible to have ‘cultural Christians’. Take away the belief and just watch what happens to the culture.

“I don’t was to be misunderstood. I do think it’s nonsense.”

As a believing Christian I respond: can we please have our culture back, then?

Article

Care

Comment

Economics

Ethics

2 December 2024

4 min read

NHS: How far do we go to feed the sacred system?

Balancing safeguards and economic expediencies after the assisted dying vote.

Callum Elwood

Callum is a pastor, based on a barge, in London's Docklands.

A patient eye view of six surgeons looking down.

National Cancer Institute via Unsplash.

“Die cheaply, protect the NHS” It sounds extreme, but it could become an unspoken policy. With MPs voting on 29th November to advance the assisted dying bill, Britain stands at a crossroads. Framed as a compassionate choice for the terminally ill, the bill raises profound ethical, societal, and economic concerns. In a nation where the NHS holds near-sacred status, this legislation risks leading us to a grim reality: lives sacrificed to sustain an overstretched healthcare system.

The passage of this legislation demands vigilance. To avoid human lives being sacrificed at the altar of an insatiable healthcare system, we must confront the potential dangers of assisted dying becoming an economic expedient cloaked in compassion.

The NHS has been part of British identity since its founding, offering universal care, free at the point of use. To be clear, this is a good thing—extraordinary levels of medical care are accessible to all, regardless of income. When my wife needed medical intervention while in labour, the NHS ensured we were not left with an unpayable bill.

Yet the NHS is more than a healthcare system; it has become a cultural icon. During the COVID-19 pandemic, it was elevated to near-religious status with weekly clapping, rainbow posters, and public declarations of loyalty. To criticise or call for reform often invites accusations of cruelty or inhumanity. A 2020 Ipsos MORI poll found that 74 per cent of Britons cited the NHS as a source of pride, more than any other institution.

However, the NHS’s demands continue to grow: waiting lists stretch ever longer, staff are overworked and underpaid, and funding is perpetually under strain. Like any idol, it demands sacrifices to sustain its appetite. In this context, the introduction of assisted dying legislation raises troubling questions about how far society might go to feed this sacred system.

Supporters of the Assisted Dying Bill argue that it will remain limited to exceptional cases, governed by strict safeguards. However, international evidence suggests otherwise.

In Belgium, the number of euthanasia cases rose by 267 per cent in less than a decade, with 2,656 cases in 2019 compared to 954 in 2010. Increasingly, these cases involve patients with psychiatric disorders or non-terminal illnesses. Canada has seen similar trends since legalising medical assistance in dying (MAiD) in 2016. By 2021, over 10,000 people had opted for MAiD, with eligibility expanding to include individuals with disabilities, mental health conditions, and even financial hardships.

The argument for safeguards is hardly reassuring, history shows they are often eroded over time. In Belgium and Canada, assisted dying has evolved from a last resort for the terminally ill to an option offered to the vulnerable and struggling. This raises an urgent question: how do we ensure Britain doesn’t follow this trajectory?

The NHS is under immense strain. With limited resources and growing demand, the temptation to frame assisted dying as an economic solution is real. While supporters present the legislation as compassionate, the potential for financial incentives to influence its application cannot be ignored.

Healthcare systems exist to uphold human dignity, not reduce life to an economic equation.

Consider a scenario: you are diagnosed with a complex, long-term, ultimately terminal illness. Option one involves intricate surgery, a lengthy hospital stay, and gruelling physiotherapy. The risks are high, the recovery tough, life not significantly lengthened, and the costs significant. Opting for this could be perceived as selfish—haven’t you heard how overstretched the NHS is? Don’t you care about real emergencies? Option two offers a "dignified" exit: assisted dying. It spares NHS resources and relieves your family of the burden of prolonged care. What starts as a choice may soon feel like an obligation for the vulnerable, elderly, or disabled—those who might already feel they are a financial or emotional burden.

This economic argument is unspoken but undeniable. When a system is stretched to breaking point, compassion risks becoming a convenient cloak for expedience.

The Assisted Dying Bill marks a critical moment for Britain. If passed into law, as now seems inevitable, it could redefine not only how we view healthcare but how we value life itself. To prevent this legislation from becoming a slippery slope, we must remain vigilant against the erosion of safeguards and the pressure of economic incentives.

At the same time, we must reassess our relationship with the NHS. It must no longer occupy a place of unquestioning reverence. Instead, we should view it with a balance of admiration and accountability. Reforming the NHS isn’t about dismantling it but ensuring it serves its true purpose: to protect life, not demand it.

Healthcare systems exist to uphold human dignity, not reduce life to an economic equation. If we continue to treat the NHS as sacred, the costs—moral, spiritual, and human—will become unbearable.

This moment requires courage: the courage to confront economic realities without compromising our moral foundations. As a society, we must advocate for policies that prioritise care, defend the vulnerable, and resist the reduction of life to an equation. Sacrifices will always be necessary in a healthcare system, but they must be sacrifices of commitment to care, not lives surrendered to convenience.

The path forward demands thoughtful reform and a collective reimagining of our values. If we value dignity and compassion, we must ensure that they remain more than rhetoric—they must be the principles that guide our every decision.