Why I Don’t Believe in God?
Believing in Wrong Ideas
Humans are prone to false beliefs because our thinking is shaped by biases, social pressures, and emotions that can outweigh logic and facts. We often follow popular opinions to fit in or respond to emotional appeals, making us more likely to accept misinformation, even if we are intelligent. False beliefs usually form in the same way as true ones, mostly through social and emotional reasoning instead of careful, critical thinking.
Believing things that aren’t true doesn’t always mean someone is uneducated or uninformed; it’s just part of how our minds work. But when many people accept false beliefs, it can have serious effects, like making people hesitant about vaccines or slowing progress on important issues like climate change.
In the past, people believed many things that now seem baseless or even silly, thanks to progress in science and critical thinking. For example, people once thought Earth was at the centre of the universe, a view supported by religion at the time. Other common beliefs included practices like phrenology and alchemy.
Phrenology was a 19th-century belief that you could tell someone’s personality and abilities by the shape of their skull, but this idea has been completely disproven. Alchemy, which came before modern chemistry, involved trying to turn metals like lead into gold and searching for an “elixir of life” to become immortal. Alchemists kept their work secret, but today chemistry is open and grounded in experiments and logic. We now know that changing elements is a nuclear process, not a chemical one.
Another old false belief was spontaneous generation, the idea that living things could come from non-living matter. For instance, some experts once thought maggots appeared only in rotting meat or that mice formed only in piles of old scraps. Today, we understand how insects and rodents reproduce. People also used to think diseases were curses from evil spirits, but now we know bacteria and viruses cause illness. Scientists like Louis Pasteur proved these old ideas wrong through experiments.
People once believed in many gods that most now see as myths. For example, lightning was thought to be Zeus throwing bolts, but we now know it’s caused by static electricity in the atmosphere. In the same way, gods like Poseidon and Ares were once believed to be real.
These examples show that as we gather more evidence and improve how we investigate the world, our understanding changes. Science keeps replacing supernatural explanations, and the more we learn, the less we rely on god to explain things.
Humans Created Gods
The idea that humans created gods is found in both ancient philosophy and modern science, suggesting that concepts of deities originate in psychological and social needs. Recent discoveries in psychology and neuroscience support this view by examining the brain’s role in producing religious and spiritual experiences. The human brain appears to be wired to recognise intentions and form attachments, which could lead to attributing spiritual agency to natural events or to feeling the need for protectors, especially during times of uncertainty.
Humans have an innate tendency to perceive intention and agency in events, a trait that may have evolved to help us survive by quickly recognising threats. Additionally, the need for attachment, rooted in our relationships with parents and other authority figures, may have expanded into the concept of a supreme protector or deity. Early humans probably invented gods to explain phenomena they could not understand, such as storms, diseases, or the origin of the world. Furthermore, belief in gods could have provided a way to cope with fear and uncertainty, offering people a sense of control or a higher power to turn to during times of crisis. Worshipping shared deities and participating in common religious rituals may have enhanced cooperation and survival among early human groups.
Throughout history, different cultures have created gods, spirits and myths to reflect their understanding of the world and their way of life. For instance, the ancient Greeks’ unpredictable, human-like gods mirror a society that values personal responsibility, heroism and the unpredictability of nature. The early Romans’ religion was more pragmatic and closely linked to the state rather than to individual behaviour. Their gods were regarded as protectors of the state and social order. Romans performed specific rituals to maintain harmony with the gods and ensure Rome’s prosperity.
Egyptian gods also mirrored their environment and their complex, highly centralised, hierarchical social structure, which was closely intertwined with nature. Norse folklore reflected the Viking social system, which was hierarchical yet allowed upward mobility based on personal actions, honour and success in warfare. The history of mythology and deities shows that gods do not reveal themselves in a universal, consistent manner. Instead, they often appear as reflections of human imagination and circumstance.
Interestingly, many religious people also argue that the gods worshipped by others are created or manufactured by those communities’ ancestors and are phoney gods, in contrast to the god they worship. This argument makes all gods, in the eyes of most humans, fake gods.
If there were one true god, why is the history of human belief teeming with hundreds of different gods? Why do their commands and personalities clash so sharply? Some gods demand blood sacrifices; others forbid them. Some endorse polygamy, while others ban it; some advocate love, while others promote conquest. How can we make sense of the wide variety among the gods? Since every religious group believes it holds the truth, the only consistent conclusion is that none of them can claim authenticity.
Ultimately, every argument for god either crumbles under scrutiny or points back to human creativity and imagination rather than to reality. The world makes far more sense without assuming the existence of a divine being. Accepting the truth, even when it is difficult, displeasing or disappointing, is better than clinging to comforting illusions. The more I ask questions, the more I realise that religion functions less as a source of truth and more as a human invention that has evolved to hide our ignorance, manipulate people, justify domination, and even perpetuate cruelty and suffering.
Childhood Inculcation
One of the most significant aspects of religious beliefs is their strong reliance on inculcation and early childhood conditioning. If you ask adults why they believe in the religion they follow, many will give philosophical or moral reasons, but if you probe deeper, what usually comes out is that they were brought up that way. They were told about god before they even understood what evidence was. They were taught to pray before they learned critical thinking.
By the time people are old enough to question, religious belief already feels like part of their identity, not merely an idea to be examined. This is not unique to one religion. It’s a universal phenomenon. Children born into Hindu families almost always grow up Hindu. Children born into Christian families almost always grow up Christian. The religious faith feels natural, not because it is necessarily true, but because it is familiar; it seems like a universal norm, a tradition, or even an identity.
Once something becomes deeply ingrained and familiar, it is hard to let go of it. Psychology supports this idea. Studies show that children are likely to accept authoritative figures without questioning them. This tendency offers an evolutionary benefit. If a parent says, “Don’t touch the burning log!”, the child does not seek evidence; they simply obey. Religions exploit this natural trust to instil ideas about god, faith and the supernatural into children’s minds before they develop the ability to assess them critically. By the time their critical thinking skills are fully developed, the religious belief has already become firmly rooted.
When I examined my childhood beliefs against the standards of evidence, reason and consistency, they all fell apart. When I let go of my faith in god, something unexpected happened. Instead of feeling empty, I experienced a sense of liberation. Free to see the world as it truly is, without distorting it to fit ancient stories. Free to accept that not everything has a clear explanation (yet) and that uncertainty can be managed. I was free to ask questions without fear of crossing invisible and forbidden boundaries.
I also began to notice the awe, beauty and richness of the world around me. The night sky doesn’t need to be a ceiling painted by a deity. Billions of galaxies in the universe, each with billions of stars, and the complexity of life on Earth do not need to be explained as the work of a mystical creator; instead, I understand that they are the outcome of billions of years of cosmic evolution, nature’s own process of trial and error, survival and adaptation. To me, this is more awe-inspiring than any vague miracle described in a book written thousands of years ago.
Exclusivity and Certainty of Faiths
Another reason I questioned religion is the certainty of faiths, despite their constant disagreements. Billions of people worldwide are absolutely convinced that their particular version of creation and deity is correct. Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, and others cannot all be right. If divine truth were absolute and clear, wouldn’t it be obvious to everyone?
Instead, what we see is a patchwork of beliefs shaped by geography and upbringing. A child born in Saudi Arabia is likely to grow up Muslim, whereas someone born in Italy is more likely to become Catholic. Beliefs tend to follow borders and regions rather than evidence. Had I been born elsewhere, I might have believed in a completely different god or religion with the same certainty. So, certainty isn’t proof of truth; it’s simply our childhood conditioning, combined with social identity and habit. In other words, it’s just faith, belief without evidence.
Religions don’t just claim to be true; they insist they are the only true path to survival and salvation. If you’re outside their circle, you’re considered lost, condemned or spiritually inferior. Yet all such claims of exclusivity contradict one another. The issue of religious exclusivity, which creates a framework in which one faith is seen as the only true path, often results in bias and intolerance towards other religions. Such sentiments usually promote feelings of superiority and arrogance, along with the belief that followers of other faiths are wrong and inferior. Historically, these attitudes have led to religious conflict, discrimination, oppression, and violence.
If Christians say salvation comes only through Christ, Muslims say it comes only through Islam, and Hindus claim liberation comes through their path, then, logically, most of the world is always considered wrong by a relatively small group. That’s not a system that appears to have been created by a benevolent and all-knowing god. Instead, it seems to be a system of competing human ideologies driven by diverse political views, cultural perspectives, and opposing economic interests. Religious exclusivity also challenges the concept of an all-loving god, as it suggests that salvation is reserved for a select few, regardless of their actions and virtues.
Exclusivism, often more evident in religious fundamentalism, can act as a barrier to dialogue, hindering interfaith relations and peaceful coexistence. It can also foster a mindset that dismisses otherness and leads to aggressive, even violent behaviour. Even within the same religion, different practices or interpretations may be deemed invalid or illegitimate, leading to division and internal conflicts among factions that differ slightly in beliefs and customs.
When you consider how these exclusive claims play out in real life, the outcomes include deadly wars fought over the authenticity and superiority of one religion over another, families torn apart by differing beliefs, and people condemned or even killed for questioning or leaving a faith. If religious belief were truly about love and objective reality, why does it so often lead to violence and division?
Questions, Curiosity and Doubt
I grew up among people who believed in an almighty god, prayed to their omnipresent (all-present), omniscient (all-knowing) and omnipotent (all-powerful) god, and thought that everything that happened was his will, even when things went wrong. They said it was god working in mysterious ways, and that there might be hidden wisdom in that catastrophe we could not see. I was not convinced, but I went along with them anyway.
But later, I realised that many of the answers I received to my questions about god didn’t make sense. To my questions, “Why do bad things happen to good people?”, “Why didn’t god create us all good?”, “Why doesn’t god answer most prayers?”, “Why does god allow so much suffering?”, and “Why doesn’t god clearly reveal himself to end our doubts?”, I’d get vague answers about humans not being wise enough, not having enough cognitive capacity, the necessity of mystery, and the obscurity of the divine will.
The more I listened to these responses, the more I realised that faith wasn’t filling any gaps in my knowledge; it was being used to stop me from asking so many questions. That marked the start of a shift in my thinking, not a sudden rejection, but a gradual process of questioning whether I believed in god because it was true or simply because it was convenient and comforting to obey. When I removed the appeasement and comfort, and examined only the evidence, I found less reason to cling to the idea of god.
Religions discourage doubt. In many traditions, doubt is seen as sinful or dangerous, yet if an idea is genuinely correct, it shouldn’t fear examination and scrutiny. Science doesn’t punish doubt; it thrives on it. Every discovery begins with doubt, with someone asking, “What if the current explanation is wrong?” The fact that religions are so defensive about doubt shows they are fragile systems that must be protected from criticism to survive.
The moment I stopped fearing doubt, I saw my beliefs in a new light. I realised that if a god truly existed, he wouldn’t need humans to defend his reputation. He wouldn’t need to threaten or punish people for their disbelief. Reality would speak for itself. The fact that it does is why I find it difficult to believe in god.
Religious beliefs often block curiosity. When we accept god as the answer, we stop asking probing questions. Lightning is no longer seen as a natural phenomenon to study; it’s considered an act of god. Illness is no longer viewed as a biological issue to unravel; it’s seen as a punishment or a test. This mindset limits our curiosity rather than cultivating and nurturing it. Conversely, when you remove god as the default explanation, you begin investigating, and that is how progress is made.
Once I let go of religion and god, I felt a stronger sense of agency and personal responsibility. When we believe in a supreme authority and a divine power, it’s tempting to shift responsibility upwards, saying that god will handle it, has a plan, and will provide. But when we accept there’s no cosmic caretaker, we realise it’s down to us. If we want a better world, we must work together to create it. If we seek justice, we need to fight for it. If we desire meaning, we must make it. That realisation isn’t depressing; it’s empowering.
I don’t pretend that letting go of god was easy. For a long time, I struggled with doubt, fear of being wrong, and the burden of stepping outside tradition. But the more I trusted evidence over fear, the clearer things became. Belief in god wasn’t necessary to understand the world, nor did reality support it. It was a human-made concept fuelled by ignorance and fear, rather than by evidence or knowledge.
Goodness, Morality and Decency
Religious people often argue that without god, there is no foundation for morality or for acting according to what is right. However, morality does not seem to originate from any divine source. In fact, morality is a natural human trait. It has evolved alongside humans and has been shaped by principles of endurance and survival, such as cooperation, kindness and social responsibility.
We can see the foundations of morality in toddlers. For example, a toddler might share a toy with another child, demonstrating an understanding of needs and fairness, even if they sometimes grab things first. Toddlers can understand the concept of waiting for their turn, showing a grasp of fairness and social rules. They may also help a parent by putting toys in a basket, reflecting a sense of social responsibility.
Examples of basic morality (or proto-moral behaviours) such as empathy, fairness and cooperation have been observed across a wide range of social species. For example, elephants are known to mourn their dead, revisit the bones of their deceased ancestors and show distress. They also assist injured or weak calves in their herd, providing both physical and emotional support. Dolphins have been observed assisting injured companions and, in some cases, even protecting human swimmers from sharks, suggesting an awareness of and response to others’ distress. Primates, such as chimpanzees and bonobos, comfort distressed peers through hugging or grooming after a conflict.
Toddlers, elephants and chimps aren’t religious beings, but they display behaviours that resemble fairness and empathy, showing us that morality predates all religions. Morality is not inscribed on stone tablets by a divine power. It is inherent in the biology of humans and other social animals, as they work together to survive.
It’s also difficult to ignore the suffering caused by beliefs in gods with conflicting commandments. Holy wars, inquisitions, witch hunts and religious terrorism have all been committed in the name of religion. If religions truly represented the ultimate truth and the genuine source of morality, they wouldn’t be responsible for some of the darkest episodes in human history.
Moreover, when we examine the scriptures, the idea that morality comes from them quickly falls apart. Holy books often promote ideas now considered immoral, such as slavery, the subjugation of women, intolerance of outsiders, and harsh punishments for minor offences. If morality truly comes from an all-knowing and all-powerful being, why would his books mirror the prejudice and ignorance of the societies that wrote them?
Unanswered Prayers and Universal Suffering
What about the unbearable silence of unanswered prayers or the depressive indifference of disasters wiping out entire communities, regardless of how devoutly they pray? People say god works in mysterious ways, but that phrase often hides the fact that they do not know what to say or how to justify such heartlessness. If a child survives an accident, it’s called a miracle. But if ten children die in the same event, that’s dismissed as part of god’s plan. When you look at it seriously, it’s not a plan. It’s randomness, and people only attribute meaning to it afterwards, the only meaning they can imagine.
Billions of prayers are said every day for healing, safety, guidance, or comfort, on the assumption that they truly work as religions claim. If that were the case, the world would look very different. We would observe consistent, measurable results that could not be explained any other way. However, the outcomes of prayers often resemble random chance. People who pray regularly sometimes pull through, sometimes don’t, just like those who do not pray. The only dependable effect prayers appear to have is psychological; they may soothe people, help them concentrate, and reduce anxiety, which is somewhat beneficial. But it’s a fake placebo and only demonstrates the power of the human mind, not proof of divine intervention.
Throughout history, during disasters such as plagues, droughts and wars, people have prayed for rescue and relief; however, these events have continued to occur, claiming thousands of lives, destroying property, and obliterating vital resources. If a benevolent, caring god were actively involved in human affairs, history would not resemble a record of random natural events and chaotic human struggle. It would show a record of supernatural corrections, but it doesn’t.
We should also consider the widespread issue of universal suffering. If there were a powerful, loving god overseeing everything, why would the world appear as it does? It’s not just human cruelty, such as war, abuse or brutal exploitation; natural cruelty exists as well. Predators tear prey apart. Parasites consume animals from within. Entire species have been wiped out by floods, fires and asteroids long before humans even evolved. What possible purpose could all that suffering serve under a benevolent creator who is supposed to respond to prayers? Nonetheless, all this destruction and cruelty make much more sense in a universe formed without humans or other living creatures in mind, a universe governed by a combination of natural laws and randomness.
Selective Reasoning, Falsifiability and Survivorship Bias
Another aspect of religious thinking is its heavy reliance on selective reasoning. When something good happens, people thank god; when something bad occurs, they say god works in mysterious ways. No matter what happens, the religious belief system adjusts to fit it. However, this is not a sign of truth; it’s a cognitive bias (similar to confirmation bias), which indicates that the belief is untestable (or unfalsifiable).
Any evidence that could disprove the claim is dismissed or reinterpreted to support it. If a belief can never be proven wrong, regardless of the evidence, it is not rooted in reality but in a baseless ideology or dogma. For example, the claim that there is a unicorn in the room that is impossible to see, touch, smell, taste, hear or otherwise detect is unfalsifiable. Making such claims is a well-known logical fallacy used to avoid rational debate or scrutiny.
The same goes for so-called miracles. People point to a rare recovery from illness as proof of god’s hand, but they don’t call the thousands of ordinary deaths proof against him. Survivorship bias leads us to notice the unusual outcome and overlook the countless ordinary ones. It can foster overly optimistic beliefs, distort cause and effect, and lead to poor decision-making because the failures (or non-survivors) are not readily visible. Survivorship bias affects various fields; for example, in finance, studies of mutual funds often exclude funds that have closed due to poor performance, thereby skewing the average returns of the remaining funds upward and creating an overly optimistic view for investors.
To avoid survivorship bias and minimise its impact, we must consider the whole picture. We need to identify what’s missing and actively seek out data that did not “survive” the process. We also need to examine failures and analyse their causes, as these can provide valuable insights that success stories often conceal. We must ensure the data is sufficiently large, relevant and representative of what we are studying. We should be aware of sampling and data collection biases to ensure the dataset accurately reflects the entire population, not just a successful subset, and recognise that visible success stories are often outliers and do not represent the average outcome.
The Promise of Eternal Life
The fear of death is intense. The need for purpose is genuine. The longing to feel guided, protected and loved is profoundly human. Religions offer some guidance, protection and love, mainly because they promise life after death, an afterlife reward and justice in the next world that is supposed to correct the crimes, wrongs and injustices of this life and punish oppressors, tormentors and despots.
The fear of death is one of the strongest reasons people cling to god. The promise of an afterlife feels like a safety net. But I’ve realised that accepting mortality doesn’t make life miserable or absurd; it makes it more precious. Knowing that life ends gives every moment more weight and significance. It urges us to cherish our time on Earth, to love fully, to create more, and to explore further.
The idea that life holds meaning only if we live eternally after our present existence ends diminishes the significance of our lives here on Earth. The more I thought about this, the more I realised that belief in god and the afterlife, isn’t about evidence but about human needs, culture, and psychology. When those are stripped away, all that remains is an empty claim without any logical support.
Faith Through Fear, Guilt and Shame
Many people remain religious (at least publicly) because they fear the consequences of declaring themselves atheists. Leaving a religion can be traumatic and may lead to a range of outcomes, from social and emotional difficulties such as isolation, imposed shame, depression and family conflict to existential questions and even fear of arrest or imprisonment. The specific consequences depend on the individual, their family, their community, and the religion they are leaving.
Fear of divine punishment, eternal curses, and going to hell is often heightened in some religious cultures, leading to emotional blackmail (gaslighting), self-criticism, and remorse. This can greatly discourage critical thinking and the notion of leaving the faith. Penalties for apostasy (abandoning or renouncing a religion) are often severe, ranging from mild social distancing and isolation to harsh penalties such as capital punishment.
The fact that a belief relies on threats to control people should make us even more suspicious of its truth. If a political system operated in this way, we would immediately label it authoritarian. Yet when religion does it, people call it holy and righteous.
Religions often manipulate people through the fear of divine punishment for disobeying their rules. Although religious regulations are not always logical or beneficial, they are accepted because they are regarded as coming from divine authority. Challenging religious rulers and spiritual leaders, who promote those rules and claim divine backing, is an immensely difficult task. Throughout history, religion has been used to justify the control and oppression of ordinary people. It has never been solely about personal belief; it has always been about social control.
Anyway, the idea of eternal burning in hell doesn’t make sense. After all, the brief lives of fallible humans don’t justify endless suffering. If a human judge sentenced someone to eternal torment for adultery, theft or lying, we’d call it monstrous. But when religion presents it as divine judgment, it’s accepted without question.
Another significant issue with religious faith is that belief in god often creates unnecessary guilt. People grow up learning that their thoughts, desires and questions are sinful. Even thinking critically about their faith can lead to a lasting sense of psychological guilt, creating an environment of self-censorship in which people feel guilty not just for their actions but also for their thoughts and feelings. Importantly, this guilt isn’t rooted in reality; it stems from dogma. When I abandoned religious belief, I realised how much lighter life felt without that unnecessary burden of guilt.
Similarly, many people who have embraced atheism and left a religion find personal freedom, self-determination and a greater appreciation for life. They develop a new, more lucid worldview and come to value the preciousness of this one life. Furthermore, after an initial difficult period, some people report feeling much happier and more authentic.
Human Brain and Consciousness
Consciousness is the state of being aware of and responsive to one’s existence, including one’s surroundings, thoughts and feelings. It involves perceiving who we are, including our subjective experiences of the world, our sensations and emotions, and our capacity to reflect on our own actions and thoughts. It also includes mental functions such as reasoning, imagination and memory, which are processed through our five senses. Consciousness is a complex and fundamental aspect of existence, and it remains a subject of debate among philosophers, theologians and scientists. A significant challenge is the “hard problem of consciousness,” which is explaining how and why physical matter in the brain gives rise to the subjective experience of consciousness.
Consciousness is fundamentally a subjective and private (first-person) experience. Only an individual can directly understand, sense and know their own consciousness. In contrast, others can infer a person’s consciousness only from observable behaviours and other detectable physiological signals, often described as the theory of mind (inference to the best explanation) and simulation theory (using mirror neurons and empathy). Consciousness encompasses all our experiences, from simple sensations, such as tasting food, to complex emotions, such as spirituality and love.
Scientists often study consciousness by investigating how the brain generates and sustains it. Theories such as the global neuronal workspace suggest that consciousness arises when information is selected and broadcast across a widespread neural network, making it accessible to multiple brain regions for processing.
In psychology, consciousness is the state of being mindful and aware, representing a higher level of mental activity than unconscious processes. Philosophers have long debated the nature of consciousness, with some questioning whether it can ever be fully explained by science. They argue that one can never truly understand the qualitative aspect of another person’s subjective experience (qualia) with the same clarity and confidence as one’s own. Therefore, all external assessments ultimately rely on inferences drawn from detectable external evidence.
Theologians explain consciousness in various ways. It has been described as a divine gift through humanity’s connection with god, as an intrinsic property of matter, or as an emergent property arising from the complex interaction of memories, emotions, and habits. However, most theological traditions hold that humans consist of both a physical body and a non-physical, or incorporeal, soul. This soul is regarded as the seat of consciousness and may potentially separate from the body after death, as described in some biblical narratives.
Nonetheless, most scientists believe that the human brain produces consciousness through the coordinated activity of billions of neurons. The human brain contains an estimated 86 billion neurons. Each neuron can form thousands of connections (synapses) with other neurons, resulting in a potential for over a quadrillion (1,000 trillion) connections. The brain has a remarkable ability to change and reorganise itself throughout our lives in response to learning and new experiences, a phenomenon known as neuroplasticity. Learning a new skill or forming a new memory actually alters the brain’s physical structure.
Furthermore, much has been learned from brain injuries that change patients’ personalities, as well as from stimulating specific brain areas with drugs or electrodes, which can lead individuals to experience religious visions or out-of-body sensations. If such experiences can be triggered with electrodes and chemicals, then they are not glimpses into a divine realm; instead, they are products of the human brain’s biology.
Cognitive science has repeatedly shown that religious experiences, such as feelings of transcendence or divine presence, can be recreated in laboratories. Psychedelic drugs can trigger visions that feel profoundly spiritual. Meditation can produce sensations of unity with the universe. Electrical stimulation of the brain can evoke the feeling of being watched by an unseen presence. These aren’t signs of the divine; they’re signs of how the brain constructs meaning and sensation. Altered states of consciousness do not prove the existence of an afterlife or god; they prove that our minds are capable of producing extraordinary states on their own.
The variation of mystical visions across different cultures also supports this idea. A Christian might see Jesus during a near-death experience. In contrast, a Hindu might perceive Krishna, while a Buddhist may experience a sense of merging with universal energy. The brain appears to produce what the culture expects it to. This doesn’t prove the existence of multiple gods but rather shows that the human mind fills in the gaps with its own stories.
Another aspect of our brain that I find compelling is how strongly it is wired to detect patterns and intentions, even when they aren’t there. Humans evolved to assume agency. If you hear a rustle in the bush, is it safer to believe it’s a predator than to dismiss it? That same instinct leads us to see purpose in randomness. A storm isn’t just about whether; it must be punishment. A disease isn’t just biology; it must be a curse. This agency detection was once (and still sometimes is) useful for survival, but it also explains why supernatural beliefs arise so easily. We are pattern seekers. Sometimes too much so.
Consciousness is not yet fully understood and remains a major scientific mystery. However, its properties are being studied by identifying the brain’s Neural Correlates of Consciousness (NCC), the neural activity linked to conscious experience. Several theories exist, including the “Global Neuronal Workspace Theory” and the “Integrated Information Theory”. I won’t discuss these theories here, as plenty of information is readily available for those interested in learning more.
Purpose and Meaning
Another notable point is that religions often claim to give meaning and purpose to people’s lives. Some say that without god, everything is pointless. They might argue that life without god is absurd because it lacks ultimate value, meaning or purpose. Others believe that humans can find meaning through worldly sources such as relationships, art and daily work, even though the universe appears to lack an inherent purpose.
In fact, humans constantly create meaning, whether or not god exists. However, people often mistake the feelings religion arouses in them for proof of its truth. A moving hymn or poem, a sense of belonging or being valued, and the comfort of a ritual or prayer are all powerful experiences. But strong emotions don’t prove their source is genuine. Children may feel very happy or hopeful when they believe in Santa Claus, but that doesn’t mean Santa is real.
Emotions are personal experiences (subjective rather than objective). What feels intensely real to one person may be perceived differently by another. Intense emotions can also stem from misinterpreting events or from cognitive distortions, such as irrational or exaggerated thought patterns (e.g., catastrophising or assuming the worst). These thought patterns can generate strong feelings that do not match reality. Additionally, powerful emotions can be triggered externally through intellectual manipulation, such as propaganda, persuasive rhetoric, or social pressure, in which the emotional reaction is genuine, but the underlying premise promoted is false or misleading.
Besides, intense emotions can lead to confirmation bias, in which individuals seek out information that confirms their pre-existing beliefs, thereby further solidifying the (potentially false) source of their feelings.
When people argue that god gives them meaning and purpose, what they usually mean is that religion provides them with ready-made recipes and guidelines, even if they are not entirely correct, fully satisfying, or clear. However, morality, meaning, and purpose do not have to be external or originate with religious authorities or higher powers. We can choose and define our own meaning and purpose through relationships, learning, imagining, and experiencing. That self-made purpose is flexible, personal, and genuine, not borrowed from an ancient authority that claims to possess all knowledge.
Some philosophers, like Albert Camus, argue that the response to the “absurd” (the universe’s lack of purpose) is not to despair but to embrace life’s absurdity and rebel against it by living fully and finding joy in the present moment, despite the absence of ultimate purpose. Indeed, atheists can and do construct meaning, purpose and robust moral frameworks based on humanistic values, relationships, love, art, nature, empathy, reason, their work, and the pursuit of human flourishing, rather than on divine command.
We can find meaning in life by aligning our actions with our values, cultivating caring relationships, pursuing fulfilling goals, creating something new, experiencing the world more intimately, and adopting a positive attitude towards life’s challenges, including the inevitable suffering that comes with being alive. Ask yourself what makes you feel alive, what issues you are passionate about, and what skills you enjoy using. Give yourself a strong, clear reason for what you are doing, and set goals that are gratifying to pursue. Engage in creating, learning and contributing or find meaning in building things, acquiring knowledge and contributing to the community.
Religion and Science
It’s also crucial to look at how religion interacts with science. Repeatedly, we have seen conflicts between religion and science, from Galileo being condemned for proposing that the Earth orbits the Sun, to Darwin’s theory of evolution being rejected because it conflicted with the literal interpretation of the creation story in the scripture.
Conflicts between religion and science often stem from differing perspectives on the nature of evidence and authority. Historically, many (including myself) have accepted the “conflict thesis,” which holds that science and religion are fundamentally incompatible. However, some theologians and a few scientists argue that the two can coexist, treating them as separate domains that address different kinds of questions about the world. For instance, Stephen Jay Gould (1941-2002), an American palaeontologist and evolutionary biologist, proposed that science and religion operate in distinct, non-overlapping magisteria or realms, with science concerned with the empirical world and religion with questions of meaning and morality. I, together with most scientists, disagree with this reasoning.
Another fundamental difference lies in methodology. Religion often relies on authority, faith, and revelation, whereas science is grounded in observation, experimentation, and reason. Scientific conclusions are provisional and can be amended in light of new evidence, whereas religious principles are deemed permanent, untestable, and central to the faith. Moreover, religion often resists new knowledge that challenges established doctrines, yet knowledge ultimately prevails because reality does not bend to belief. If religious beliefs were truly divine truth, they should not collapse under the weight of evidence. Yet that is exactly what keeps happening.
Over time, I have also noticed that the necessity for the concept of god seems to shrink as our understanding grows. When we didn’t know what caused lightning, it was attributed to a god. When we didn’t understand the cause of plagues, they were seen as god’s punishment. Today, god is often said to reside in the gaps that science has yet to explain, but those gaps are continually narrowing. Anyway, a god that exists only in the areas we don’t understand isn’t much of a god. It’s simply a placeholder for ignorance.
Nonetheless, rejecting scientific facts can be harmful. For example, rejecting evolutionary science, climate change, or the effectiveness of vaccines (often based on religious revelations) slows progress and endangers lives. It is encouraging and interesting that some religious individuals and institutions have come to accept certain scientific findings, such as the Big Bang theory, evolutionary biology, and medical sciences, recognising them as compatible with their faith.
Religion, Arts and Cooperations
Although creativity and the arts have been influenced by numerous secular themes, such as love, nature, politics and social justice, the historical link between religion and artistic expression remains undeniable. In fact, religious inspiration has produced some of humanity’s most enduring cultural achievements.
Religion has historically been a significant source of inspiration for much of the world’s arts, including music, architecture and literature across cultures. Religious organisations have frequently acted as major patrons of the arts, commissioning creative works to express beliefs, narrate sacred stories, and inspire reverence and awe.
However, religious art, while a profound expression of faith, is a testament to human ingenuity and creativity rather than evidence of god’s existence or will. The religiously inspired works, whether the stained glass of cathedrals or the intricate carvings of Hindu temples, showcase humanity’s ability to conceptualise the abstract, convey deep emotions and craft enduring beauty through artistic expression. The existence of these remarkable creations undoubtedly highlights our species’ desire to explore spirituality, document our histories and leave a lasting mark on the world. The artistic skills involved in such works stand as a powerful tribute to human talent, civilisation and cultural richness.
I have realised that embracing wonder, beauty, and awe without linking them to the supernatural is far more gratifying. The fact that we are made of stardust, that the atoms forged in gigantic explosions of dying stars constitute our bodies, the fact that evolution has produced the endless variety of life we observe around us, and the fact that our brains can look out into the cosmos and reflect on our own existence do not require belief in a god to be awe-inspiring. If anything, the realisation that all the universe’s amazing wonders and beauty are the outcomes of natural processes should deepen our sense of wonder. Because it’s real, it’s not a story; it’s reality, and reality is immensely astonishing on its own.
Complexity and Fine-Tuning of The Universe
The argument for complexity, the claim that life is too intricate, finely tuned, and complex to exist without a designer, may seem convincing at first glance, but closer inspection reveals significant flaws. First, the universe isn’t designed for life; it is, in fact, fundamentally hostile to it. Most of the space is a vacuum filled with lethal radiation. Virtually all other planets we’ve discovered are barren. Even on Earth, life has been nearly eradicated multiple times by natural disasters. If this is the work of a designer, it is an astonishingly ineffective one.
Second, the following analogy may help clarify the fine-tuning fallacy. From a fish’s perspective in a rock pool, the land appears perfectly designed to contain the oddly shaped body of water in which the fish lives. In reality, it is the water, as a liquid, that has filled every nook and cranny of the rock (its environment). Similarly, the universe is not designed to support life; instead, life, through its natural adaptability and flexibility, has inhabited every suitable and available space (mainly on Earth, as far as we know).
Natural processes such as evolution and the laws of physics offer a better, more straightforward explanation than the so-called “intelligent design”. Life did not emerge everywhere; it appeared in rare pockets (on Earth) where conditions were suitable, and once it emerged, it adapted to survive. We are not here because the universe was created specifically for us. We are here because we happen to fit the restricted conditions that allowed us to evolve (Earth, our beloved rock pool). That is not a divine purpose; it is a matter of probability and the laws of nature.
A Benevolent God, A Loving Creator
How can some people brag about a benevolent and loving creator and ignore the brutal indifference and cruelty of the natural world? Earthquakes demolish entire cities; tsunamis wipe out villages, and diseases kill millions without mercy. Religious people often describe these events as divine punishment or trials. However, it’s impossible to continue framing them as part of compassionate heavenly actions. A god who permits children to die in earthquakes or from deadly diseases without intervening is neither loving nor powerful, and most likely not real at all.
However, we now understand that all that cruelty, mayhem and destruction are random acts of nature caused by physical and biological processes, including earthquakes (shifts in tectonic plates), tsunamis (massive waves of water due to oceanic seismic activity), viral diseases caused by contagion and mutations of viruses, and so on. Not only is this interpretation real, but it’s also easier to accept and motivates us to take appropriate action to minimise such events.
I also think about how belief in god often divides humanity into insiders and outsiders, believers and sceptics, the faithful and the faithless, the saved and the damned. These divisions create barriers between people who might otherwise share many core values, hopes and struggles. Moreover, such divisions have been used for centuries to justify persecution, discrimination and violence. If god were truly benevolent and caring, and belief in it were genuinely about kindness, love and unity, why does it consistently cause so much hate, division and cruelty?
Religions Thrive on Mystery and Ignorance
When something is unexplained, people are often quick to attribute it to god. But every time science explains a mystery through research and experimentation, the need for god in that area vanishes. People once thought mental illness was possession by demons. Now we know it’s due to neurological and psychological conditions. People thought earthquakes were divine punishment. Now we know about the movements of tectonic plates. The list goes on. The shrinking role of god in explaining the world shows that belief fills gaps in knowledge, not gaps in reality.
Another interesting feature of religions is the use of various supposed philosophical arguments that many philosophers have already repeatedly refuted. One such argument is the cosmological argument, which suggests that there must be a first cause, and that this initial cause is god. But even if there were a first cause, why assume it’s a personal god who cares about human affairs? That leap isn’t justified. And if everything needs a cause, then god would need one too. If god doesn’t, then maybe the universe doesn’t either.
Pascal’s Wager is another speculative argument that suggests it is more rational to believe in god because the potential reward of infinite gain (heaven) outweighs the finite cost of disbelief. In contrast, the possible loss of infinite punishment (hell) outweighs the finite benefits of a non-believer’s life. This argument, formulated by French philosopher Blaise Pascal, is not intended as proof of god’s existence but rather as a pragmatic incentive to live in a way that allows for belief.
The argument suggests that if god does not exist, the outcomes for both believers and non-believers are predictable and limited, but if god does exist, the difference between infinite gain and infinite loss is the deciding factor. The wager is intended as a pragmatic argument that prompts people to consider the profound consequences of the afterlife and to embark on a spiritual journey.
The idea that it’s safer to believe just in case god is real is ridiculous and absurd. We can’t make ourselves believe in something just because it’s convenient. Anyway, which god should we believe in, just in case? Besides, belief based on fear of punishment or reward isn’t sincere, and if there were a god worth respecting, it would not reward dishonest belief over honest doubt.
Religion often offers ready-made, mysterious or ambiguous answers, even when they are incomprehensible and inappropriate. But, it is highly liberating to say, “I don’t know”. Mysteries still exist in the universe. We don’t yet understand what caused the Big Bang, how consciousness arises, or what might lie beyond the observable universe. For me, admitting that I don’t know is more honest and more powerful than pretending that an ancient text can already resolve the enigma. “I don’t know” is the starting point of discovery, while “god did it” marks the end of questioning.
The Impact of Demography on Religiosity
The demographic aspects of religious beliefs, such as age, gender, ethnicity, income, education, and geographic location, are also fascinating. Studies suggest that religious faith often thrives in environments marked by uncertainty and hardship. Areas with higher levels of poverty, instability, or suffering tend to exhibit stronger religious devotion, suggesting that religious beliefs often serve more as a coping mechanism than as a response to objective truth. When life becomes unpredictable and tough, religious belief offers some hope and comfort. However, comfort does not necessarily mean fairness or truth. A placebo pill may reduce pain without curing the disease; faith in god can ease fear or increase hope without revealing the truth or solving the problem.
Although religion can sometimes offer individuals facing adversity and poverty a foundation of meaning, hope, social support and spiritual capital that may help them, to some extent, cope with their difficult circumstances and maintain relative well-being, research consistently shows that the most religious countries (often poorer nations) tend to be less happy on average than more secular, wealthier nations.
National prosperity, together with social equality, freedom, and robust public services (including healthcare and education), has a profoundly positive impact on overall life satisfaction. In countries where basic needs are met and people have economic security, trust in their government, and social safety nets, the need for religion as a coping mechanism diminishes, leading to lower national religiosity. Religion helps some people cope with poverty and its associated issues, but it does not address the underlying causes of poverty, which result in lower average health and happiness at the national level compared with wealthier countries. This pattern should not exist if god were benevolent and caring.
Religion, Power and Politics
Religion, power and politics have always been interconnected. Religion shapes the political landscape and the distribution of power by influencing public views on social, political and economic issues. Politicians have frequently used religion to gain power or to challenge their opponents. These interactions can be direct, such as a state adopting religious law, or indirect, through religious pressure groups influencing politicians and voters. They often use religious arguments to sway debates on issues such as social justice and citizens’ rights, including marriage, divorce and abortion.
Religious beliefs and institutions shape people’s worldviews, which in turn influence their political opinions and actions. Political actors can strategically utilise religious rhetoric, symbols, rituals and traditions to mobilise support, legitimise policies and manipulate public opinion. This is known as the political instrumentalisation of religion. Religious groups also provide a moral framework or yardstick for political decisions, speaking out on social issues to influence decisions, even within democratic voting systems.
In many religious states, such as the Islamic Republic of Iran, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Islamic Emirate of Afghanistan, religious laws can determine legal and social hierarchies, with religious leaders often holding significant political power. Even in secular systems that legally separate religion and state, like the UK and the USA, religion exerts considerable influence through “soft power” via actions such as speaking, suggesting, storytelling and protesting. Historically, the relationship between religion and the state has evolved, with religion initially a primary factor in state organisation and later becoming an object of state manipulation and a source of influence within a secular context.
Interestingly, religions often serve human power more than human understanding or well-being. Kings, presidents and emperors didn’t just claim authority through force; they also claimed it through god. They claimed a divine right to rule, to suppress rebellion, crush dissent and maintain obedience. The same applies to religious leaders who argue that questioning them is the same as questioning god. That’s not divine authority; it’s human authority dressed in sacred clothing.
We can easily see around the world (in the UK, USA, IRAN, etc.) how religion influences politics in ways that reveal its human origins, with laws shaped by human-written scripture rather than reason. Religious influence often restricts freedom rather than protects it. Whether it’s about who people can marry, what they can do with their bodies, or how science is taught in schools, religion frequently intrudes into areas where religious beliefs should not interfere. When one group insists that its faith should govern others, it’s not about a divine standard: it’s about political dominance and control.
The abolition of slavery, the recognition of women’s rights, the acceptance of LGBTQ+ individuals, and many other progressive achievements didn’t come from religious institutions. In fact, religious organisations initially opposed these changes. Progress was driven by liberal-minded individuals who questioned and challenged traditional interpretations, refusing to allow scripture to justify repression, control, and cruelty. Eventually, religious groups had to adapt, reinterpreting their texts to keep pace with society’s moral progress. This contradiction highlights a fundamental norm: morality evolves as societies grow, but religion often lags behind and adjusts only when it has no other option.
Religions Regularly Change and Modify
Religions frequently change and evolve, reshaping themselves to survive cultural shifts. When science challenges scripture, religions adjust their interpretations. When society condemns practices such as slavery or stoning, religions soften their stance and reinterpret their texts. This adaptability shows that religion isn’t a timeless truth. It’s a flexible human system, constantly modified to prevent collapse. A true divine revelation shouldn’t require revision by followers over time.
It’s striking how, even within the same faith, people choose what to follow. Believers around the world do not obey all the commands in their holy books. They ignore some, reinterpret others, and emphasise those that align with their moral standards. This selectivity reveals something important: morality takes precedence, and scripture is adapted (reinterpreted) to suit it. If morality truly came from god, it would be the other way round.
The presence of many religious subgroups, movements, or denominations within religions, which arise from differences in theological interpretations, cultural and political developments, and the historical evolution of beliefs, further supports my earlier point. These variations mainly originate in debates over scripture, disagreements over leadership, questions about where authority lies, and how religions evolve and spread across different regions and cultures. Over time, religion changes in response to social transformation and progress. Other denominations may form when groups focus on various aspects of the tradition or split if they perceive an unacceptable deviation from the original message.
The existence of many supposed revelations also raises doubts. If an all-powerful being truly wanted to be known, why reveal itself only partially through contradictory and obscure ancient texts that require endless interpretation? Why not provide clear, universally understandable evidence that anyone, regardless of culture or background, can access and comprehend? Instead, we are left with numerous conflicting scriptures, each claiming to be the absolute truth, yet none withstands scrutiny. A god who hides in ambiguity closely resembles a human-created god.
So, Why Do I Not Believe in Supernatural?
Because when I remove fear, habit, tradition, and blind conformity, there’s no longer a need to hold onto faith, as scientific explanations of the natural world are more convincing without invoking the supernatural. Morality, decency, kindness, cooperation, meaning, and purpose are human traits, not divine commands. The chilling silence of unanswered prayers, the shocking screams of human violence and suffering, the horrendous crimes committed in god’s name, and many contradictions between scripture and real life all point to religions being human inventions.
Perhaps the most profound reason is that this life feels far more real, authentic, and enjoyable without belief in an eternal afterlife. When I stopped preparing for the other realm, I began to see the beauty of my life more fully in the present. When I stopped contemplating eternity, I came to appreciate the limited time I have in this life, the only life we truly experience. When I stopped framing everything as a divine test or trial, I came to value life for what it is: messy, fragile, unpredictable, yet full of potential, meaning, and beauty.
Rejecting belief in god did not take anything away from me. It actually presented me with several valuable gifts. It gave me the courage to face uncertainty without fear. It gave me the responsibility to create my own meaning. It erased my fear of death. It deepened my appreciation for reality and helped me understand the beauty that surrounds me. That’s why, when people ask why I don’t believe in the supernatural (god, heaven, and hell, etc.), I don’t respond with hostility or mockery. Instead, I reply calmly and clearly because I’ve examined the evidence, asked the questions, and found reliable, rational answers. In the end, I discovered more truth, more freedom, and more wonder outside of belief than I ever did within it.
When I looked beyond my own experience, I found many examples of people and even entire societies thriving without belief in god. Countries with some of the lowest levels of religious belief, such as Sweden, Denmark, Japan, and the Netherlands, consistently score highly on measures of happiness, education, equality, and social trust. These are not wastelands of despair, even though they are not religious. They are among the most peaceful and stable places in the world. That shows me that belief in god isn’t necessary for flourishing. What matters is human effort, good governance, compassion, and cooperation.
Studies comparing nations show that less religious, more secular democracies often perform better on various metrics of societal health and well-being. There is a negative correlation between a country’s religiosity and its per capita income and educational attainment levels; wealthier, more educated countries tend to be more secular. Highly secular, developed nations consistently report lower rates of societal dysfunction, including homicide, incarceration, and infant mortality, and tend to rank higher on the Global Peace Index. These societies often exhibit lower rates of sexually transmitted diseases (STDs), teenage births, corruption and income inequality.
Many researchers believe that as societies become more economically secure and better educated, they rely less on religion as a coping mechanism or a source of identity. However, it is important to recognise that this is a correlation, not necessarily a direct cause; improved societal conditions may lead to lower religiosity rather than the other way around.
On an individual level, I’ve met people who abandoned their faith and found a new kind of resilience. Instead of relying on prayer when life becomes difficult, they turn to problem-solving, therapy, and friends. Rather than waiting for divine intervention, they act. Remarkably, many describe themselves as more grounded, more authentic, and more at peace once they cease believing baselessly.
People sometimes ask me, “What if you’re wrong?” If I am wrong and there really is a god, I would hope it values honesty more than blind acceptance. I hope that living my life by seeking the truth, being thoughtful, taking responsibility, and facing reality as best I can matters more than reciting the right words or following the right ritual. If a god would punish honest doubt but reward blind belief, it’s not a god worth worshipping.
