On a recent post over at her own Substack, Dr Monica Hughes was kind enough to quote a comment of mine relating to the attitude that many of us seem to have towards the medical profession in relation to saving us when we determine we face a mortal peril.
When I have encountered excessive deference to doctors in the past, I have always found it strangely superstitious. The people I know who have been through challenging experiences with the medical establishment have generally not simply trusted their doctors; they have questioned them and been actively involved in their own care decisions. At the very least they have sought second and third opinions. They have understood that even if allopathic intervention may be necessary, it is not the sole factor in outcomes. However, people I know less well frequently do seem to consume medical advice uncritically. It is very hard to get them to listen to any complementary perspective. They will not even read published medical literature.
I guess there are many psychological factors underpinning this attitude, both in moments of acute existential crisis and as a general worldview, to which at some point I may perhaps return in these writings; but in this piece I want to focus on my own attitude of self-sovereignty as a philosophical and indeed spiritual orientation.
In a recent episode of Tom Woods’s podcast, Mark Crispin Miller explained how he had been granted a religious exemption from the vaccine mandate applicable at NYU, following on from a conversion experience (if I understood correctly) to the Roman Catholic faith which he had experienced during the pandemic, in particular while meditating on the nature of evil.
Fortunately I do not face such a mandate currently, but it led me to ask myself whether, if I did, I would seek an exemption on similar grounds. There are plenty of reasons why one might not wish to take the vaccine, and the grounds which one might adduce in such a situation are, of course, also, let us be honest, a tactical and legal matter. I have plenty of medical doubts in this regard, both general and specific to myself. Ordinarily, they should be respected. But it feels right to me that the most fundamental reason I do not wish to do such a thing is, indeed, philosophical and spiritual. It is not merely fear of the unintended consequences of the jab or of the world we will all end up living in if this kind of arbitrary and capricious misuse of state power is allowed to become the norm, terrifying as that is. And whilst others may wish to argue that I am ill-informed or irrational, although I am confident that this is not the case I feel that this discussion is, or should be, irrelevant. It is not, either, merely that I claim the right to make my own decisions. Rather, if I were to abrogate this right in this particular instance, I would not simply be conforming to an arbitrary social dictate in the way I conform to many others that I find illogical or indeed perfidious, and would certainly prefer to ignore. Instead, such a choice for me is simply impossible. If I were to make it, I would be broken; in the same way, I imagine, as a devout religious believer violating some food taboo or sacrificing to a foreign idol. I would feel violated and it would be highly traumatic.
Now the whole matter of religious rights and their legal status is a complex and fraught one and I imagine it is made no easier when the leaders of ones chosen religion espouse a position diametrically opposed to ones own, as is notably the case of the Pope. The position one is then taking, and putting forward as a religious constraint on ones action, then seems to be allowably any position at all, or at least any somewhat coherent one. It is certainly not limited to the position of the denomination to which one claims allegiance. This being so, it is hard to see why identifying that denomination should be pertinent at all. The reality is that one is objecting on the basis of ones own conscience.
I am also objecting on the basis of my own conscience, but I do not have an obvious denomination to which to claim allegiance. If philosophical beliefs are not protected in the same way as established religion, my legal rights might not be equivalent. Even if I do believe that if the Supreme Court were to decide this question (they notoriously do everything in their power to avoid deciding questions like this), they would have to conclude that any such discrimination was aribtrary and unconstitutional.
The philosophical notions (if such they be) to which I cling are, however, even though nameless, very widely shared in contemporary Western society. Many people teach them, under many labels. Many have come to them independently. They do not involve or necessitate authority; they are anti-authoritarian and they are anchored in immanent experience. Although I have no name for this “religion”, I do very much feel part of a broad movement in society. There are many people I listen to, from various backgrounds, whose attitude towards the world seems to me quite effortlessly to dovetail with my own. I feel that we share a common understanding of the spiritual nature of man, and that the only compelling explanation as to why this is so, is a commonality of experience derived from immersion into how things really are. This “natural religion” is beyond and independent of dogma and unconfined by language or cosmology. It is the one, primeval and eternal religion of humanity, divinely revealed not in scripture but through personal experience.
Religions as they exist in the world also incorporate windows on this reality (alongside many elements which I would consider epiphenomenal or diverse in nature). Nevertheless some actually established religious movements (or at least what we call religious movements) are indeed quite close to this common, experiential core of things, in particular advaita vedanta, taoism and zen. These and other traditions teach that meditation gives access to a reality beyond illusion or contingent happenstance, beyond the world of form. Such reality, experienced through whatever language and cultural lens, is nevertheless and necessarily one. That is my religion.
Such religion is incapable of anxiety before death. It is absolutely unconcerned with the ultimate fate of the body. It is not worried in the slightest even about serious illness, never mind the mild symptoms which are most people’s experience of Covid-19. It is accepting of adversity. It is serene before all things. It is therefore profoundly, irreducibly countercultural. The world of existential anxiety is threatened by it and cannot accommodate it. But it has been threatened by all other religions also, even if it has found some sort of accommodation. Religions are supposed to provide answers to existential questions which otherwise provoke anxiety. That is what they do. The Western world is currently in the prey of excruciating anxiety, beyond any rhyme or reason. That is the only reason it seeks salvation by turning to spiritually desolate medical hierophants. Somehow, these grey emanations of the positivistic, materialistic creed they themselves (incorrectly) call “science” are the appointed priesthood before which we all must prostrate ourselves. I consider that idolatry. It’s not an objective, superior truth and better way to order society, it’s ugly and inhuman. My submission to Moloch is being demanded. But I resist.
Let there be no mistake: my religion is presently being denigrated, and sometimes persecuted. It is uniquely the object, at this time, in many places, of a largely unconscious pogrom. I do not, however, think ultimately that this will succeed, because my religion is also yours, theirs and everyone’s. It consists of things that we all know and share, at whatever level of awareness. Although I am clearly in a philosophical minority, I do not feel at all disconnected from those who do not knowingly espouse similar beliefs to my own. I know that, nevertheless, we are all one.
I take my lead from God, from Spirit, from myself. These things are the same. It is not possible for a third party, or using any finite methodology, to answer definitively any concrete dilemma, because there are always factors which cannot be accounted for, unknown idiosyncracies. It is akin to trying to imagine the entirety of the future. Searching for an algorithm for love. No one can tell you what your reaction to a vaccine is going to be. No amount of science can or will ever answer that question definitively. No amount of science can answer any question concerning personal choices in life. I’m not a madman or a tyrant, I don’t claim to know what is best for you and I respect your autonomy to the point of being in awe of the wisdom within you. But I know what is the right decision for me. I have access to certainty in that regard. Even when I do not know why. A religious believer will certainly recognize themselves in my experience.
Certainly, this doctrine of radical self-sovereignty may clash with objective necessities in the organisation of society. I do not dispute this, and all such matters may be discussed. I am not even particularly radical in this regard. For example if my decisions really impose costs on society, I do not dispute that I may legitimately be asked to bear those costs (of course, in this instance, I do not believe that to be the case, and if such a principle were to be hallowed it would apply in many other ways, certainly leading to unadministrable complexities or total arbitrariness; that is why I adhere to and support the legal order of rights which has allowed us to coexist largely peacefully as long as it has been effectively maintained). But if I am not ultimately sovereign to follow that inner voice that i call God, then I am not free. There is then no freedom for the religion that I, and millions of others, genuinely adhere to and practice. This is not some narcissistic fantasy or pretext I just dreamt up. It is who I am and how I live my life every day.
In the final analysis, personal autonomy and freedom of religion are the same thing.
Perhaps an interesting question is whether the behavior of the government does not in fact violate the establishment clause of the First Amendment. Because this is really a religion - in what ways is it not? - and the allegiance of everyone to it is being obligated.
Thank you for your writing and reflection! I found my way here via Monica Hughes.
I know deeply this inner conversation that I read in your essay.
I was, not all that long ago, faced with question of choosing between the mandated shot(s), and my job. I sought a religious exemption, feeling as you do, that to acquiesce would run counter to my beliefs, counter to the way in which I live.
I attend no church, though the temple of nature constantly speaks to me when I am in it; a walk in the woods, swimming in the ocean, feeling the wind and rain touch my skin; all of these (and many more) are not so different from a spiritual experience, if one is open to the creation that surrounds us.
Asked to defend my application for an exemption, I was asked what ‘religion’ I subscribed to. In my heart, I ordinarily would not give it a label or name. But knowing the lens through which the state views these things, I responded, “I am a Taoist.” Having been an avid reader of the Tao Te Ching, reflecting on its verses for 30 years, this didn’t seem so divorced from the truth.
The interviewer asked me: “Is there a specific church or temple where you attend services regularly?”
I replied, that no, this was not a significant practice, but as is common with Taoists, personal reflection and meditation on life is a constant, and more vital for me than a house of worship. I noted that if one reads the Tao Te Ching, then one might eventually realize that the pages there hardly encompass the true depth of meaning that is implied in the verses. The journey of the Taoist comes through living each moment, every day.
The interviewer then asked me: “Is there a principle or tenet, or scripture that conflicts with the policy?”
I replied, yes: there is the tenet of wu-wei. Wu-wei is “the practice of taking no action that is not in accord with the natural course of the universe.” Genetic engineering is an example of an endeavor that is not in alignment with the natural course of things. Just as I choose not to consume genetically engineered foodstuffs, so I would not choose to have genetically engineered nano lipid encased mRNA, or a genetically engineered adenovirus, injected into my body.
The interviewer then asked me: “Do you know that the Dalai Lama is in support of the vaccine?”
I replied, yes, I have read that; but the Dalai Lama is a well-known Buddhist. That is not the same thing as a follower of the Tao, and he has no authority over me.
Many more questions were asked. In the end, the interviewer could not find inconsistency in my beliefs, or a lack of sincerity. Perhaps this is because it was not an argument I offered. My employer formally acknowledged that my belief was sincere and the reviewer recommended approval of a religious exemption.
But the hollowness of what this really meant was not made evident until 2 months later. I was placed on a temporary unpaid leave of absence. And then, a month after that, summarily terminated without cause.
The ‘approved’ exemption, in actuality, meant nothing. Never mind how strange it is to have an interviewer, who doesn’t understand what you believe, act as a kind of arbiter of one’s sincerity. It was all merely a formality; a way of gesturing to demonstrate compliance with anti-discrimination laws. The real goal was to obtain compliance with the policy.
Exemption was never a way out.
But despite this, a truth was revealed. What is important here, for me, was the act of looking into my Self to understand my sincerity, my beliefs, and to unapologetically embrace my own integrity. It is that kernel within that makes me who I am, connects me to my actions, my choices, and everything around me. Without it, I am not me.
Perhaps we all know this, deep down.
But, in spite of the disruption brought by the loss of employment, this has reaffirmed for me, all of the myriad choices I have made that have brought me to where I am at this moment, connected to everything around me. And that is an encouraging thought.