If you’re not aware of Alex O’Connor, he’s a British philosopher, speaker, podcaster, and popular Youtuber, known most for being a self-described religious skeptic and “former edgy atheist”, and no doubt one of the most prominent public intellectuals in the public eye today, especially amongst young men. He boasts a Youtube channel with over 1.9 million subscribers that has amassed over 380 million+ views on his channel alone–certainly no small feat for a more philosophical, intellectual type. And, like millions of others, I have enjoyed for quite some time O’Connor’s thought-provoking commentary, philosophical musings and insights, and many of his religious critiques, even despite my own Christian faith.
Moreover, he has hosted a bevy of fascinating conversations with a range of interesting guests, ranging from the likes of Jordan Peterson, to Richard Dawkins, to Sam Harris, all the way to guys like Bear Grylls, and even artificial guests, such as CHATgpt. Personally, in the world of social media where influence is so often characterized by grifting, demagoguing, and performative outrage, I’ve found that O’Connor offers a refreshingly cool, calm, and collected demeanor, a unique wit, a keen sense of civility, and a sharp focus on following his interests rather than simply chasing the next viral thing that garners attention.
Not to mention, O’Connor possesses the exceptional ability to keep discussions centered on the ideas rather than resorting to the sort of low-grade, undignified “debate bro” culture where opponents boast of “destroying” one another, and are frequently characterized by ad hominem attacks, shouting, incessant interruptions, clip farming, clickbait, and scoring points with the people that already agree with them. As far as I see it, those qualities alone give him near inestimable value in our current cultural moment. And, of course, being a typical American, I just like listening to a good ‘ole British accent.
Needless to say, there are a host of admirable qualities in O’Connor, whether you agree with him or not. It’s easy to see why so many gravitate towards him, myself included. Yet, for all the value I’ve found in O’Connor’s content, I don’t find myself listening to him much as of late. It’s much for the same reason I have a hard time maintaining any interest anymore in what intelligent atheists and agnostics like O’Connor have to say. Namely, that for all the wit, class, and rationality of minds like his, they’ve simply never been able to offer me any meaningful alternative.
Of course, this does nothing to prove them wrong. Nor do I expect it to. That’s not the aim here. I’m just asking a rather painfully obvious, and practical, question I can’t help but ask when I finish listening to someone like O’Connor–a common sense question, I would say. That is, if he’s right about the world, then what’s the point?
Ultimately, why should I care about the truth that atheists like O’Connor seem to stand on if that truth leads me to conclude that I’m nothing more than a meaningless object in a meaningless world? After all, if all religion is nothing more than a useful myth we humans create for ourselves as effective tools for survival–an “opium for the masses”; if the basis for morality is nothing more than subjective feeling (what O’Connor calls “ethical emotivism”); if there is no god that holds evil people accountable in the end, well then why should I waste my time with the “truth”?
Candidly speaking, what does truth do for me if a lie might work better? Why should I suffer from reality when I could flourish from a delusion? Just take, for instance, the statistical fact that active religious people tend to be happier than non-religious people. In the end, why would I not play pretend for a religion if it means being happier? After all, if the atheists have it their way, no one call tell me I would be “wrong” for that, given the secular notion that moral judgments are nothing more than fluid emotional appeals rooted in self-interest.
Consequently, I’ll never quite understand this about those like O’Connor who spread the message of atheism. If the end of your philosophical inquiries and investigations is the conclusion that we live in a cold, dark, mindless universe with no grand, uniting, and overarching metanarrative, then why even waste time propagating that message? Why go on speaking tours and write books to spread the message of a meaningless universe that treats us with nothing but, with what Dawkins describes as, “random, pitiless indifference”? If this material world is all there is, and oblivion of our souls is on the other side of death, why bother perpetuating such bleak hopelessness to a mass audience?
It’s an odd thing to consider that someone might find joy in that enterprise. I’m not quite sure what the motivation would be, if it be pure or innocent. In light of espousing such a grim worldview, I can’t help but think that there might be more to the atheist impulse to perpetuate this message than simply a genuine interest; that there’s something almost religious to their anti-religiosity. It seems there may be something darker afoot.
That being said, much as I admire O’Connor’s mind and his class, I don’t quite understand his heart. Of course, I am not God. I can’t presume to know anyone’s motives or the true intent of a heart. He seems like a lovely chap, to be perfectly honest. I have no doubt I’d enjoy talking with him. But what am I to make of the end of his intellectual pursuits spelling the destruction of worlds?
If coming to see the world as he sees it means the end of finding myself in some grand meaningful narrative, of which I thought I had a meaningful part to play, then why would I bother listening anymore? If there is no hope in the end (as is the logical outcome of his beliefs), it seems more advantageous to busy myself with extracting as much joy and pleasure out of life with the little time I have left rather than spend my time entertaining anymore of these ideas which evoke a natural melancholy and despair. “Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die.”
Fortunately, however, I am not persuaded of the atheist message. I still believe–maybe naively–that the materialists haven’t got the full picture right. Despite the wits of the best atheists like O’Connor, I’m still convinced that we all have a meaningful part to play in some grand overarching story that God is writing, and that there’s still evidence to my favor. I still have faith that what I do with my life actually matters; that suffering and death don’t get the final say, and that, as that hobbit Samwise Gamgee once put it, “everything sad will come untrue” in the end. To me, that’s a story worth telling. And until the atheists like O’Connor find a better one to tell, I’ll stick with what I got. You should too.
Colton Banks 