God has had a tough time over the past few years.
On TV, in
newspapers and on the internet, the debate as to whether faith has any
relevance in a sceptical modern world has been as ubiquitous as it has
been vigorous.
And it has been pretty clear which side is the most splenetic.
From
Richard Dawkins’ powerful atheist polemics to Christopher Hitchens’
public derision of the Roman Catholic Tony Blair and Stephen Hawking’s
proclamation that the universe ‘has no need for God’, it seems that
unbelievers have had the dwindling faithful on the run.
Or have they?
As research for my latest novel, Bible Of The Dead, I have spent
months investigating the science of faith versus atheism, and discovered
startling and unexpected evidence.
It might just change the way you
think about the whole debate, as it has changed my view.
I am not a
religious zealot. On the contrary, I was a teenage atheist.
And
although in adulthood I have had a vague and fuzzy feeling that ‘there
must be something out there’, I was never a regular church-goer. But
what I have discovered, on my voyage through the science of faith, has
astonished me.
My journey began a couple of years ago when I was
travelling in Utah, the home of Mormonism.
During my first week there, I
approached this eccentric American religion with a typically European
cynicism.
I teased Mormons about their taste in ‘spiritual
undergarments’; I despaired at being unable to find a decent cappuccino
(Mormons are forbidden coffee, as well as alcohol, smoking, tea and
premarital sex).
But then I had something of an epiphany.
One
night, after a long dinner, I was walking back to my hotel in downtown
Salt Lake City at 2am and I suddenly realised: I felt safe.
As any
transatlantic traveller knows, this is a pretty unusual experience in an
American city after midnight.
Why did I feel safe?
Because I was
in a largely Mormon city, and Mormons are never going to mug you.
They
might bore or annoy you when they come knocking on your door, touting
their faith, but they are not going to attack you.
The Mormons’ wholesome religiousness, their endless and charitable
kindliness, made their city a better place. And that made me think:
Why was I so supercilious about such happy, hospitable people? What gave
me the right to sneer at their religion?
From that moment I took
a deeper, more rigorous interest in the possible benefits of religious
faith. Not one particular creed, but all creeds. And I was startled by
what I found.
For a growing yet largely unnoticed body of
scientific work, amassed over the past 30 years, shows religious belief
is medically, socially and psychologically beneficial.
In 2006, the American Society of Hypertension established that church-goers have lower blood pressure than the non-faithful.
Likewise,
in 2004, scholars at the University of California, Los Angeles,
suggested that college students involved in religious activities are
more likely to have better mental and emotional health than those who do
not.
Meanwhile, in 2006, population researchers at the
University of Texas discovered that the more often you go to church, the
longer you live.
As they put it: ‘Religious attendance is
associated with adult mortality in a graded fashion: there is a
seven-year difference in life expectancy between those who never attend
church and those who attend weekly.’
Exactly the same outcome was
recently reported in the American Journal of Public Health, which
studied nearly 2,000 older Californians for five years.
Those who
attended religious services were 36 per cent less likely to die during
this half-decade than those who didn’t.
Even those who attended a
place of worship irregularly — implying a less than ardent faith — did
better than those who never attended.
Pretty impressive.
But there’s more; so much more that it’s positively surreal.
In
1990, the American Journal of Psychiatry discovered believers with
broken hips were less depressed, had shorter hospital stays and could
even walk further when they were discharged compared to their similarly
broken-hipped and hospitalised, but comparatively heathen peers.
It’s
not just hips.
Scientists have revealed that believers recover from
breast cancer quicker than non-believers; have better outcomes from
coronary disease and rheumatoid arthritis; and are less likely to have
children with meningitis.
Intriguing research in 2002 showed that believers have more success with IVF than non-believers.
A 1999 study found that going to a religious service or saying a few prayers actively strengthened your immune system.
These medical benefits accrue even if you adjust for the fact that believers are less likely to smoke, drink or take drugs.
And
faith doesn’t just heal the body; it salves the mind, too.
In 1998, the
American Journal of Public Health found that depressed patients with a
strong ‘intrinsic faith’ (a deep personal belief, not just a social
inclination to go to a place of worship) recovered 70 per cent faster
than those who did not have strong faith.
Another study, in 2002, showed that prayer reduced ‘adverse outcomes in heart patients’.
But
perhaps this is just an American thing?
After all, those Bible-bashing
Yanks are a bit credulous compared to us more sceptical Europeans,
aren’t they?
Not
so.
In 2008, Professor Andrew Clark of the Paris School of Economics
and Doctor Orsolya Lelkes of the European Centre for Social Welfare
Policy and Research conducted a vast survey of Europeans.
They found
that religious believers, compared to non-believers, record less stress,
are better able to cope with losing jobs and divorce, are less prone to
suicide, report higher levels of self-esteem, enjoy greater ‘life
purpose’ and report being more happy overall.
What is stunning
about this research is that the team didn’t go looking for this effect —
it came to them unexpectedly.
‘We originally started the research to
work out why some European countries had more generous unemployment
benefits than others,’ says Professor Clark.
But as they went on,
the pattern of beneficial faith presented itself.
‘Our analysis
suggested religious people suffered less psychological harm from
unemployment than the non-religious. Believers had higher levels of life
satisfaction.’
So what’s going on?
How does religion work this apparent magic?
One of the latest surveys to suggest that religious people are
happier than the non-religious was conducted by Professors Chaeyoon Lim
and Robert Putnam, from Harvard, and published last year.
They
discovered that many of the health benefits of religion materialise only
if you go to church regularly and have good friends there. In other
words, it’s the ‘organised’ part of organised religion that does a lot
of the good stuff.
Going to a friendly church, temple or mosque
gives you a strong social network and a ready-made support group, which
in turn gives you a more positive outlook on life — and offers vital
help in times of need.
The Harvard scientists were so startled by their
findings that they considered altering their own religious behaviour.
As
Professor Lim said: ‘I am not a religious person, but . . . I
personally began to think about whether I should go to church. It would
make my mum happy.’
But if the ‘congregation’ effect is one
explanation for the good health of churchgoers, it’s not the only one.
Other surveys have found that intrinsic faith is also important.
For
instance, a study of nearly 4,000 older adults for the U.S. Journal of
Gerontology revealed that atheists had a notably increased chance of
dying over a six-year period than the faithful.
Crucially,
religious people lived longer than atheists even if they didn’t go
regularly to a place of worship. This study clearly suggests there is a
benefit in pure faith alone — perhaps this religiousness works by
affording a greater sense of inner purpose and solace in grief.
This begs the question: Given all this vast evidence that religion is
good for you, how come the atheists seem so set against it?
They
pride themselves on their rationality, yet so much of the empirical
evidence indicates that God is good for you.
Surely, then, it is the
atheists, not the devout, who are acting irrationally?
All this
will come as no surprise to many students of genetics and evolution, who
have long speculated that religious faith might be hard- wired into the
human mind.
For instance, twin studies (research on identical
siblings who are separated at birth) show that religion is a heritable
characteristic: if one twin is religious, the other is likely to be a
believer as well, even when raised by different parents.
Neurologists are making exciting progress in locating the areas of
the brain, primarily the frontal cortex, ‘responsible’ for religious
belief — parts of the brain that seem designed to accommodate faith.
This research even has its own name: neurotheology.
Why might we
be hard-wired to be religious? Precisely because religion makes us
happier and healthier, and thus makes us have more children.
In the purest of Darwinian terms, God isn’t just good for you, He’s good for your genes, too.
All
of which means that, contrary to expectation, it is the atheists who
are eccentric, flawed and maladaptive, and it’s the devout who are
healthy, well-adjusted and normal.
Certainly, in purely evolutionary terms, atheism is a blind alley.
Across the world, religious people have more children than non-religious
(go forth and multiply!), while atheist societies are the ones with the
lowest birth rates.
The Czech Republic is a classic example.
It proclaims itself the most atheist country in Europe, if not the
world; it also has a puny birthrate of 1.28 per woman, one of the lowest
on the planet (so soon there won’t be any godless Czechs to proclaim
their atheism).
The existence of atheism is therefore something of an anomaly.
But then again, anomalies are not unknown in evolution.
Think
of the dodo or the flightless parrot, doomed to extinction.
Are
atheists similarly blighted?
Are Richard Dawkins and his type destined
to vanish off the face of the Earth — the victims of their own
intellectual arrogance?
That’s not for me to say; it’s for you to
ponder.
All I do know is that reassessing the research has changed the
way I think about faith.
These days I go to church quite a lot,
especially when I am travelling and researching my books.
For
instance, the other day I found myself in Cambridge — the home of
Stephen Hawking — and took the opportunity to do some sightseeing of the
city’s intellectual landmarks.
I strolled by the labs where
Hawking does his brilliant work, popped into the pub where they
announced the discovery of DNA and admired the library where Charles
Darwin studied.
As I did, I was in awe at the greatness of Man’s
achievements.
And then I went to Evensong at King’s College
Chapel, and it was beautiful, sublime and uplifting.
And I felt a very
different kind of awe.
Sneer at faith all you like.
Just don’t assume science is on your side.