You don’t have to be an atheist to be a leftist, and, as I myself prove, you don’t have to be a leftist to be an atheist, but it’s probably the case that most atheists are leftists and most leftists atheists. Many atheistic leftists take pride in their empiricism and hard-headedness. Religion, they say, is for the weak-minded or weak-willed. Belief in miracles—understood as violations of the laws of nature—is particularly irresponsible, epistemically, for it violates Hume’s dictum that “a wise man . . . proportions his belief to the evidence.” Hume argued, famously, that it is always more reasonable to believe that the laws of nature have not been violated than that they have. Hence, belief in miracles is never justified.
In Part II of his famous essay “Of Miracles” (1748), Hume gives four reasons to doubt the testimony of those who claim to have witnessed a miracle. Here is the second reason:
Secondly. We may observe in human nature a principle which, if strictly examined, will be found to diminish extremely the assurance, which we might, from human testimony, have, in any kind of prodigy. The maxim, by which we commonly conduct ourselves in our reasonings, is, that the objects, of which we have no experience, resemble those, of which we have; that what we have found to be most usual is always most probable; and that where there is an opposition of arguments, we ought to give the preference to such as are founded on the greatest number of past observations. But though, in proceeding by this rule, we readily reject any fact which is unusual and incredible in an ordinary degree; yet in advancing farther, the mind observes not always the same rule; but when anything is affirmed utterly absurd and miraculous, it rather the more readily admits of such a fact, upon account of that very circumstance, which ought to destroy all its authority. The passion of surprise and wonder, arising from miracles, being an agreeable emotion, gives a sensible tendency towards the belief of those events, from which it is derived. And this goes so far, that even those who cannot enjoy this pleasure immediately, nor can believe those miraculous events, of which they are informed, yet love to partake of the satisfaction at second-hand or by rebound, and place a pride and delight in exciting the admiration of others.
With what greediness are the miraculous accounts of travellers received, their descriptions of sea and land monsters, their relations of wonderful adventures, strange men, and uncouth manners? But if the spirit of religion join itself to the love of wonder, there is an end of common sense; and human testimony, in these circumstances, loses all pretensions to authority. A religionist may be an enthusiast, and imagine he sees what has no reality: he may know his narrative to be false, and yet persevere in it, with the best intentions in the world, for the sake of promoting so holy a cause: or even where this delusion has not place, vanity, excited by so strong a temptation, operates on him more powerfully than on the rest of mankind in any other circumstances; and self-interest with equal force. His auditors may not have, and commonly have not, sufficient judgement to canvass his evidence: what judgement they have, they renounce by principle, in these sublime and mysterious subjects: or if they were ever so willing to employ it, passion and a heated imagination disturb the regularity of its operations. Their credulity increases his impudence: and his impudence overpowers their credulity.
Eloquence, when at its highest pitch, leaves little room for reason or reflection; but addressing itself entirely to the fancy or the affections, captivates the willing hearers, and subdues their understanding. Happily, this pitch it seldom attains. But what a Tully or a Demosthenes could scarcely effect over a Roman or Athenian audience, every Capuchin, every itinerant or stationary teacher can perform over the generality of mankind, and in a higher degree, by touching such gross and vulgar passions.
The many instances of forged miracles, and prophecies, and supernatural events, which, in all ages, have either been detected by contrary evidence, or which detect themselves by their absurdity, prove sufficiently the strong propensity of mankind to the extraordinary and the marvellous, and ought reasonably to beget a suspicion against all relations of this kind. This is our natural way of thinking, even with regard to the most common and most credible events. For instance: There is no kind of report which rises so easily, and spreads so quickly, especially in country places and provincial towns, as those concerning marriages; insomuch that two young persons of equal condition never see each other twice, but the whole neighbourhood immediately join them together. The pleasure of telling a piece of news so interesting, of propagating it, and of being the first reporters of it, spreads the intelligence. And this is so well known, that no man of sense gives attention to these reports, till he find them confirmed by some greater evidence. Do not the same passions, and others still stronger, incline the generality of mankind to believe and report, with the greatest vehemence and assurance, all religious miracles?
Hume is saying that human beings are naturally gullible. They allow their beliefs to be influenced by their desires or emotions. In particular, they allow their beliefs to be influenced by the passions of surprise and wonder. Perversely, the more fantastic an event—the more unlikely it is to have occurred—the easier it is for people to believe it. This is a flagrant violation of Hume’s dictum.
Are leftists immune to this cognitive disease? Are they as gullible as people generally? I don’t see any reason to exempt them. Leftism has many of the trappings of religion, which is why Marx was so hostile to religion. He knew that religion is a competitor to the socialism he advocated. Each is a comprehensive doctrine. Each exhausts cognitive, conative, and affective space. To the extent that people are religious, they are not receptive to socialism; and since religion postulates an afterlife in which ultimate justice is done, it has a tendency to make people complacent. Marx wanted a revolution, not reform. He was interested in mundane justice, not transcendent justice. Religion, he said, is “the opium of the people.” It puts people to sleep (deadens their senses) precisely when, according to Marx, they need to be most active, most vigilant, and most determined.
Noam Chomsky has been spewing anti-Americanism and watered-down Marxism for several decades. Most people dismiss his writings as the ravings of a lunatic, but he is deified by the Left. Chomsky provides the Left with an airtight belief system. Every event is explained; nothing is left to chance. Nothing is allowed to count against the proposition that the United States is the root of all evil in the world. The fervor with which these platitudes are received and defended by leftists rivals the fervor one finds in an evangelical church. Structurally, Chomsky’s leftism is a religion. There’s no supernatural aspect, to be sure, but the other elements are there, and prominently so.
Read Hume’s second reason with Chomsky’s leftism in mind. The “miracles” in question are cases in which the United States is involved, even though, to an impartial observer, it would not seem to be (or even seem not to be). In other words, it’s antecedently highly unlikely that the United States is involved. When Chomsky analyzes an event and finds the United States involved, the natural reaction is to say that there are other, better explanations—that he is straining. Leftists, being predisposed to anti-Americanism, are primed to blame the United States for every bad thing that happens in the world. Chomsky gives these true believers exactly what they want. He panders to their prejudices, and he does it with the “authority” of a prominent social scientist. How could such an intelligent man be mistaken about the explanation of some political event? Certainly he needs to be taken very, very seriously. The mere fact that such an intelligent man says it lends it an aura of truth. In short, leftists’ usual standards of evidence and argument go out the window when Chomsky speaks. They allow their passions of surprise and wonder—not to mention their overriding disposition to blame the United States for everything—to overwhelm their cognitive abilities. In short, they violate Hume’s dictum.
It gets worse. Once Chomsky provides an explanation of some event, his sycophants, such as Brian Leiter, take over, spreading it as if it were the gospel, and vilifying anyone who rejects or questions it. They are true believers, convinced that their explanation of world events is correct and that all its rivals, however plausible to the masses, are instances of false consciousness. Chomsky and his leftist sycophants are enthusiasts in the same way that theists are enthusiasts. To paraphrase Hume, the credulity of Chomsky’s sycophants increases his impudence, and his impudence, in turn, overpowers their credulity. He captivates them and subdues their understanding. He becomes their god.