A knock at the door. Two well-groomed young men smile through the peephole and you open up.
“Good afternoon, we are representatives of the island nation of Tuffala. We have an important message to share with you. May we come in?
“Not many people know about Tuffala, or the fierce war that is taking place there. We have decided to dedicate ourselves full time to the cause we believe in. A despotic warlord has been waging war for control of Tuffala for many years. The president of Tuffala fights bravely with his good soldiers, but they need help.
“Tuffala is a unique island, with massive gold deposits. The despotic general waging war there wishes to exploit the natural richness of Tuffala to wage war on the rest of the peaceful nations of the world. The president of Tuffala has enlisted the help of volunteers to support the cause of Tuffala. At the end of the war, we will all be invited to live in the reclaimed island paradise and enjoy together the bounty of its riches.
“Many people have joined our cause. In fact, several of your neighbors are ardent supporters of the cause of Tuffala. Participation in our cause brings a wonderful sense of belonging and will bring peace to the earth. Your children will live safer, better lives because of your support of the Tuffala cause. We have documentation and videos to share with you to give you a sense of the importance of supporting freedom in Tuffala. We also have geologic assays certifying the gold and mineral deposits present.
“We meet together once a week on Wednesday evenings to discuss the important cause. It is a wonderful chance to socialize with like-minded people who believe in freedom. Once every six months, we also have a worldwide broadcast from the president and cabinet leaders of Tuffala. They update us on the progress of the war, and provide us with inspiration to continue the fight. We know that it is vitally important to support this cause.”
The young men come back several times to explain the significance of their message and the urgent need for support by means of time and money. You grow to like them and you trust their youthful exuberance and disarming dedication. You attend meetings and see that many friends of yours and prominent members of the community are engaged in supporting the cause of Tuffala. Your children enjoy the friendships they form. You are entranced by the photos of the tropical paradise that awaits you and the promise of extraordinary shared wealth is appealing, too.
You throw your weight behind the cause, contributing a significant percentage of your income and most of your spare time.
Fifteen years pass and your children have also gone to foreign lands to share the importance of the message. Your social life is entirely based around your Tuffala friendships.
Then, one day, you discover through reliable sources that the Society for the Liberation of Tuffala, is an elaborate, carefully administered confidence scheme. The island doesn’t actually exist, and the president is an imposter. There is no war. Your money is gone and you feel like a fool. You start to tell your friends and family about it. They grow upset and turn their backs on you. You despair at the loss of years, friendships, and money.
Questions: Does the sense of purpose you received and the satisfaction you felt, lessen the seriousness of the deception? Does the presence of any benefits need to be weighed against the tort? Would you take legal action? Is there something wrong with you if you are upset at being deceived?
If the people who presented the message were victims like you, would you lose your right to sue the institution? If the vast majority of the employees of the institution were sincere believers in the cause, would you lose your rights?
If the organization claims religious status… do you lose your rights? Is a fraud, perpetrated in the name of God, be protected by the law?
What is a religion?
Before you get all righteous about this post, I want to say that this is not an unsubtle attempt to say that the Church needs to be sued, or a whine about how I have been defrauded of my life and money. I also understand that the analogy breaks down at some point (as all analogies do).
I think it is interesting (and maybe important) to consider the synthesis of two concepts that we usually think of separately. Is religion fraudulent? What is the difference between a presentation of religious convictions and the presentation of a confidence scheme? How are they similar? Do they play on the same weaknesses in the human character? What is fraud? How is it defined?
One of the key components of fraud is deliberate misrepresentation of facts. Language is precise in meaning and loose in use. What is the denotation of statements that begin, “I know”?
Another component is justifiable reliance on the expertise of the accused. Did the organization or persons hold a position and appearance that validated your trust?
The third element of fraud is the obligation to investigate. Legally, it can be difficult to prove that you did your due diligence. How would one properly investigate the claims of religion? How is it properly falsified? Can it be falsified according to the message presented? What is the burden of due diligence? How is that defined?
Then I think about the ethical considerations that are above the law. Does fraud exist that can’t be prosecuted? Just because you can’t effectively prove it in court, does it mean that you weren’t deliberately misled to your damage?
The best con men make their victims feel like they received something valuable in the experience. Tom Sawyer got the fence painted that way. We know he was clever. Was he moral?
I confess I’m not totally sure of the answers, but I think it is worth thinking about.
I will reiterate till I’m blue in the face that I have developed serious reservations about religion as I have realized the stakes it proposes and the control it seeks to exert. I am skeptical of the return on investment we receive for giving up control of our money, time, sex life, and other desires and convictions. Religion asks for tangible wealth, but only promises treasures in heaven. Religion levies threats of destruction, punishment, misery, and torment… without irony, and without reservation. If a bank robber points a gun at you, but it isn’t loaded, is he less liable? Are you expected to know somehow?
Do the limitations of human reason, upon which religions and con men prey, create a Darwinian justice that robs humankind of an expectation to be dealt with honestly?
Great post. Personally, I am not in favor of suing the church, but I do think the leadership should be held accountable in some way for its ongoing imposition on our credulity. I think this is best done with honesty (saying what we really think) and humor (trying to be a good sport about it).
ReplyDeleteHumor is the hardest thing to guarantee, mostly because we carry all of these really raw emotions around (especially if our experience in the church was uniquely awful, i.e. much worse than mine, though mine still hurt me enough that I am sometimes mad). But I think it is important to learn to laugh (at the church and ourselves) and move past the mindset where Santa Claus' existence is serious business. The more we treat church like the charade it is, the less likely we are to blow a gasket when we encounter home teachers (or to fly an airplane into a building, since it is currently that time of year.) Laughing beats praying, arguing, and fighting as a productive way to release religious angst.
Fantastic point about the effectiveness of humor.
ReplyDeleteHermes, are you ever going to write something that I don't think is brilliant?
"One of the key components of fraud is deliberate misrepresentation of facts."
ReplyDeleteNo reasonably informed person can deny that the church is guilty of this. "Some truths are not very useful" for keeping the credulous in line.
Give me time, G! I am sure I can disappoint you eventually.
ReplyDelete