28 FEBRUARY 2004, Page 16

Ancient & modern

If atheism is now to be taught in schools in the RE slot, the Greek essayist Plutarch (46-120 AD) would want to teach superstition as well — to warn against it even more vehemently.

In the ancient world, atheism was associated with the fifth-century sc Greek intellectuals known as the sophists. Claiming to be able to teach men how to make a success of their careers, they encouraged them not to be constrained by normal social conventions but to use logos ('reason, argument') to advance their cause, whatever the implications for traditional belief (nomos). As a result, religion in particular, which the Greeks acknowledged rested entirely on nomos, came under attack.

When the famous sophist Protagoras stated that one could not know whether the gods were or were not, since the evidence was lacking and life was short, the cat was out of the bag. The sophist Prodicus speculated on how the gods came to be invented (early man called by the name of 'god' natural phenomena that were useful, like the sun and water; and then revered men who invented useful things, like wine and agriculture, as gods); Democritus thought phenomena like thunder and eclipses, and natural laws controlling e.g., the succession of seasons, persuaded men to think in terms of higher powers; Critias argued that the gods were invented by a clever man to control people by the fear of unseen forces.

For Plutarch, a pious believer in the goodness and fairness of a Platonic god, atheism was much less of a threat than superstition (deisidaimonia, lit. 'fear of divine powers'). He points out that atheism is a distressing form of ignorance and indifference, but at least the atheist, foolish though he may be, blames only himself for his suffering or ill-fortune. But the superstitious man's whole life is dominated by his terror of unseen forces which he is convinced are working to make his existence hell. 'He who fears god fears everything — earth and sea, air and sky, darkness and light, sound, silence and dreams,' says Plutarch, and conjures up a picture of a man eternally tortured by irrational obsessions. Terrified of the gods, he still flees to them for help; yet every disaster that strikes him must be a punishment from the gods, for which he has to pay the penalty. He hates and fears them, yet besieges their shrines. Better no gods at all, says Plutarch, than gods of this man's morbid imagining.

Warning: watch out for RE teachers called Desdemona.