Good Advice

Unless I’m ranting about political or legal matters, I try to avoid being serious here because I think my readers prefer being entertained. There’s enough dead-seriousness in the Atheosphere already, and I’d rather not add to it. But today, you’ll have to pardon me, because I’ve got something I need to get off my chest. If I were a Roman Catholic, I’d probably go to confession. But I’m an atheist, so I blog.

I gave advice to a friend. The advice, unfortunately, was good. In fact, I think it was very good. But I hate myself for giving that advice.

Throughout my life, I’ve been in the enviable position of never having to censor my nonbelief. Notice that I said “enviable.” I know all too well that some people aren’t free, for one reason or another, to advertise their atheism.

My friend is an atheist. My advice was to keep completely quiet at work about that. I didn’t say, “Don’t go out of your way to publicize the fact that you’re a nonbeliever.” I didn’t say, “Avoid debates”or “Shun conversations about religion.” I just said, basically, “Shut up entirely.”

Now, I’m about the last person in the world to urge someone to keep mum. About anything. But I thought my suggestion was right because revealing an atheistic worldview could seriously jeopardize my friend’s career. I would never advise anyone to stand idly by while religion was being aggressively advocated. But that wasn’t the situation I was told about. It’s just that my friend faces the possibility of being “outed” as an atheist by some folks in the workplace who accidentally stumbled upon the “secret.” If that were to happen, my friend might be faced with some serious out-rage on the part of the people who pay the salaries. So I said, in essence, “Don’t talk about it at all.”

When I thought later about what I’d said, I realized that I would never have voiced a similar opinion to a friend who was worried about being revealed as a Christian, or a Jew, or a Muslim. No one would dream of taking action against a worker who wears a cross or a star of David.

But as I’ve mentioned, my advice was very good under the circumstances. If you knew all the facts, you, yourself, would have given the exact same counsel. But it’s advice I’ll never give again because it makes me disgusted to concede that we live in a world where merely acknowledging one’s atheism can deprive one of a livelihood.

So, in retrospect, I wish I had said, “Yes, admit proudly that you’re an atheist. Assure your boss you wouldn’t dream of trying to convert anyone at work. Insist that your non-belief doesn’t conflict with your job, doesn’t hurt the people with whom you come into contact, and doesn’t make you any more suspect of propagandizing than your Catholic coworker who gets his or her forehead shmeared on Ash Wednesday. But don’t deny who you are.”

That would have been very bad advice, indeed. But, on reflection, it’s the advice I should have given.