I practice a proper religion; you, poor misguided soul, belong to a sect; and those weird people down the road belong to a cult.

Opinions are only worth as much as the reasons they are based on. If the reasons are no good, the opinions don't deserve respect -- indeed, they deserve to be vigorously criticized. And that applies as much to religious opinions as any other kind of opinion. Some Christians have a thought out position sustaining an admirable ethical way of life; other Christians have frankly batty superstitious reasons for holding a toxic mix of deeply unpleasant views that are a disgrace to humanity. (Similar things, of course, can be said about non-Christians!) Whether your teacher's religious views deserve any respect rather depends on which camp she is in. And, indeed, as you remark, just because a set of opinions are supposed to be "religious" gives those views no special claim on our respect at all ("that's my religious belief" is not an argument -- it just deserves the riposte "so what?"). For a terrific essay related to these matters, freely downloadable, read my colleague Simon Blackburn's ' ...

Yes, "Occam's Razor" is just as relevant and just as appropriately applicable when deciding whether or not to believe in a divine being as in any other domain of rational enquiry. Why shouldn't it be? But the principle is a qualified one: it only tells us not to multiply entities beyond necessity (it doesn't say "don't multiply entities", full stop). Applied to the case of religious beliefs, it says: don't postulate djinns or dryads, cherubim or archangels, or fully-fledged gods, unless there is strong reason to do so . But of course, some believers in God (as traditionally conceived) think there are strong reasons for postulating the existence of such a being. And in so far as they think that they ought to have such reasons, they are still conforming their belief-formation to the principle encapsulated in Occam's Razor (but, contra the previous response, I wouldn't say that Occam's Razor is itself a reason for their theistic belief -- their reasons are e.g. an argument from design or...

"In some ways one might welcome the fact that they are being brought up by one parent in such an unusual and distinct manner, as compared with the majority of their peers." Oh, really? I think not. The kids are being subject to child abuse of a rather nasty kind (how else should we describe telling children that their greatgrandmother is going to be damned to hell?). Of course, saying that doesn't settle how you should respond to the abuse. I agree with Oliver Leaman at least in this much: future influences are likely to counteract some of the effects. A healthy teenage dose of sex, drugs, and rock'n'roll will probably do wonders. Still, you don't want your kids getting too caught up in some superstitious farrago in the meantime. What to do? I'd suggest some cheerful urbanity and gentle mockery (after all, kids rarely like to think that they are being uncool and rather silly ). But why not try some philosophy too? Press the obvious questions with wit and good-humour when the occasion arises: ...

This is a straightforwardly empirical question which needs an empirical, data-based, answer (not an arm-chair, philosophical one!). It would be interesting, then, if some panelist knows about any relevant research. I conjecture, though, the answer goes something like this: If by "philosopher" you mean something like "university teacher of philosophy", then yes, as a group they are less religious than the general population. But that isn't especially because they are philosophers, but because there tends to be less religious belief among people educated to PhD level in general. But that is a conjecture, and I await refutation!

"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven" (Ecclesiastes 3:1). There are occasions when it might be appropriate to talk and argue about atheism, or about vegetarianism, or global warming, or liberalism, or the Welsh rugby team, or Portishead's new record, or whatever else grips you, and other occasions when it certainly wouldn't be. Just going around, trying to convince people of your views, willy nilly, out of season, is not to treat others with much respect, nor is it likely to be very productive. But I take it that isn't what's being suggested! The issue, I imagine, is: if you have come to believe that some widely shared, deeply held, view is wrong (perhaps damagingly wrong), then should you press your contrary arguments on appropriate occasions, even if people are prone to get a bit upset/offended? Should you, for example, when the occasion is suitable, advance your atheistic arguments even if it rocks the boat? Well, why not? It is only through...

1. Once upon a time, I guess that quite a few philosophers thought that a one-shot bash with (something like) the verification principle was enough to dispose of various claims of religion. These days, few philosophers think there's such a quick route to declaring some area of discourse "cognitively meaningless". 2. My impression remains however that many philosophers do think that various kinds of religious claims haven't got a clear meaning at least if interpreted flat-footedly, as making metaphysical claims about the contents of the universe. Take the words of the catechism: "God is the Supreme Spirit, Who alone exists of Himself and is infinite in all perfections". What does that mean ? The complaint is not the quick one that it is "unverifiable", but the more laborious-to-defend one that trying to work out some metaphysical content to e.g. "infinite in all perfections" leads to confusion and paradox. But there are certainly philosophers who think that a coherent metaphysical story can be...

"Ok, ok," says Anne, "fair point. But I guess I'm not really hung up about the visual thing. A booming voice from the sky would do. Or even a few more signs like burning bushes in the Moses story. But something in your face and unmissable. Sure, people say they have evidence of God. But why does this 'evidence' all seem so flakey and disputable? If God really exists and is all-powerful and all that, why doesn't he make his own existence just obvious to us?" Warming to her theme, Anne might continue: "Some people go on and on about the bible being the word of God. But why should I believe that if I don't already believe in God? Some people talk about religious experience. But what people 'experience' seems to depend on what they already believe (after all, Tibetan monks don't have visions of the Virgin Mary do they?). And some people claim to find evidence of God's presence in the everyday world around us. Like in all the disease and suffering? Or like when they make up dodgy creation...

There is a lot of questions here. Let me pick up on just one. Suppose Jill has devoted all her energies to her family, has centred her whole life around them. And suppose her husband, unknown to her, is a serial deceiver, holding her in contempt; one child is a crooked fraudster; the other (again, still all unknown to Jill) is a wastrel and drug-addict. In this sad situation, even if her ignorance is bliss, Jill's life is not going well. The meaning she thinks she finds in her endeavours is in fact an illusion. In this case, we could hardly "salute the meaning" her devotion lends her life, for that meaning just isn't there. Yet it could still, for all that, be the right thing to leave her in ignorance -- there will be cases and cases. What is our relation to Jill? How strong is she? What would befall her if she wakes up and smells the coffee? We can't possibly give a general rule here. But even if we think we should in the particular case leave things be, we wouldn't be "leaving well alone". That...

"Burden tennis", batting the burden of proof to and fro over the net, is rarely a very profitable pastime! But still, maybe this case is an exception. After all, conventional theists when you come down to it are making some pretty exotic claims (claims that make the beliefs, say, of ancient Greek religion look very modest and humdrum). Not just powerful gods, but an omnipotent God. Not just intermittently casting an amused eye over mortal folly, but omniscient . Not just occasionally taking a passing interest in some of us, for good or ill (and occasionally, understandably, running off with a particularly pretty nymph) but incomprehensibly loving us all equally . And so it goes (for example, perhaps add claims about the Trinity here!). By the workaday epistemic standards we use in most of our lives, those extravagant claims look very fanciful indeed. So we can reasonably insist that someone who advances such claims literally, and expects to be taken seriously, had better have some ...