From reading some of my posts, readers might get the impression that I’m not extremely fond of religion.  In some ways, I’m not.  I’m especially skeptical of organized religions that, in their attempts to grow and perpetuate their doctrines and “way of life,” succeed in creating a mental state where those who practice the faith become essentially blind to the shortcomings and huge inconsistencies inherent in that faith… and often reject literal physical realities because they conflict with their beliefs.

On the other hand, given human nature, I’m not so sure that human societies without any religion at all, at least today, might not be far crueler, less ordered, and less desirable places in which to live, but then, ultra-theocratic societies tend to be religiously ordered to the point of denying human freedoms, as well as also being crueler and less desirable places to live, especially for women.

As I’ve noted before, the only codes of behavior the majority of human beings have accepted, at least for most of human history, have been those with strong roots in religion.  I suspect that’s because most of us really don’t think another human being has the “right” to declare what rules our conduct should follow, but that “God” does.  Yet, paradoxically, “God” doesn’t tell us that.  Other human beings tell us what God told them is correct behavior, and for most people throughout history, such theologically derived codes of law and behavior have been accepted. I suspect part of the reason for this is not necessarily great unanimity, but a combination of religious belief and simple pragmatism, and it may be that the key to a “good” society is indeed the combination of a theological concern and a secular pragmatism.  Certainly, those few societies without a significant religious “tie,” such as Nazism and Communism, have been anything but “good” places to live, yet the same is true for ultra-religious societies.  Oh… the “true believers” in those societies did well, but not many others.

History does show that societies dominated by religion tend to be short on human freedoms, creativity, and progress.  Societies where religion plays no role in setting cultural values also tend to be short on human freedom and restrict creativity, but often achieve progress for a time by stealing from others in various ways.

So, as much as I may complain or point out the notable shortcomings of religion, and organized religion in particular, it appears that healthy societies require some theological basis, at least at the current level of human ethical development.  The question then becomes to what degree religion should influence government, law, and behavior. Personally, I think the Founding Fathers got it right, but I mean it in the way they wrote the Constitution, and not in the activist way in which too many true believers seem to think that freedom of religion means the freedom to compel others to behave according to their religious beliefs or the freedom to enact laws that in some fashion or another effectively institutionalize those beliefs.

Last Friday, my wife and I went to a modern dance concert and then, on an airplane enroute to Denver, I read through a poetry magazine that I had received as a thank you for a speaking engagement.

The modern dance concert was actually a fiftieth year retrospective by an established and respected mountain states company that presented a cross-section of dances previously offered over the years and concluded with a new piece that presented a “prospective” dance  just choreographed by the company’s new director/choreographer.  After the concert, we compared notes, and we both agreed – the older the work, in general, the better we liked it, and since my wife the opera singer and director has worked with music and dancers for more than forty years, she does have some expertise.  The newest “piece,” while theoretically presenting windows into life, seemed almost aimless, themeless, and without much truly musical accompaniment, not to mention the fact that much of the “dancing” seemed to occur with the entire body either on the floor, or extremely close to it.

The poetry magazine, from my professional viewpoint, was even worse, although it was a slick, well-designed, and well laid out effort, bound like a small trade paperback. The magazine has been published semi-annually for over five years.  The issue I read included 82 poems by 49 authors.  The first thing that struck me was that there didn’t seem to be any poetry in the “poems.”  Further scrutiny supported that impression, as I could discover neither end-rhymes, internal rhyme, alliteration, nor any discernable meter, merely an attempt at innovative typography… and that was true for every single “verse.”  After reading the short biographies of the contributors, I was even more astounded. Most had published widely, and several had won prizes for their work.

Now… I will admit to having been skeptical of most “modern” verse for years, and I have wondered, not infrequently, whether the verse [I hesitate to call it poetry] I have read in the pages of publications such as The Atlantic Monthly and The New Yorker was really representative of the state of American poetry today.  It appears so, unfortunately.  Well over a half-century ago, and perhaps longer, one of the last great American poets – Robert Frost – made a statement to the effect that writing free verse was akin to playing tennis with the net down.  From what I’ve seen, all too many would-be poets not only don’t know the rules of the game, they don’t even know that there are rules as to what poetry is., or at least, what the rules historically have been.  And, well, if the lack of rules constitutes the “new rules,” then it ought to be called prosedy or something similar.

In both the instances I’ve mentioned here, the “creators” don’t seem to have the faintest idea that greatness or excellence doesn’t come from ignoring the rules, but from knowing them, using them, and transcending them [which occasionally means breaking them, but doing so effectively requires knowing what the rules are, how they should be broken and why… and what the exact effect one is attempting to achieve by doing so].  The point underlying both these examples is that excellence in anything requires structure, not just scaffolding.  Yet this loss of structure seems to occurring everywhere in the U.S., from the decline in courtesy to our crumbling infrastructure, and  everywhere rules are being broken, “just because.”

There’s a line from an old Janis Joplin song that says, “Freedom’s just another word for having nothing left to lose.”  And when structure goes, you don’t indeed have much left.

One of the great advantages of writing science fiction is that I can create a society from relatively whole cloth and try to make it real to my readers, but there are certainly dangers in making that effort.  If you don’t understand some of the basics of societies – such as economics, trade, politics, the role of beliefs, etc. – you may still have a wonderful story, but one that many readers will not finish, or if they do,  they’ll being saying that the society or culture really wouldn’t work.  Most professional writers understand that, but a number of those fail to ask another question:  How did the society/culture get that way? This was a point brought up by another writer at a recent conference I attended [LTUE], who made the comment about a well-known best-selling book, “The society would work, once it reached this point, but I can’t see how it ever got there, given human nature.”

The reason I bring this up is two-fold.  The first is to point out a few things to aspiring writers: (1) gross errors in world-building can hurt, and (2) given the example, so long as it seems to work, even if there’s no way to have gotten there, it probably won’t hurt your sales. The second is to suggest that, even in our world, political ideologues don’t seem to understand that, no matter how good an idea or principle is, you have to have a way, technically and politically, to get there.

I often get comments on various blogs suggesting idealistic solutions to various problems or difficulties we face today.  Many of these comments suggest “whole-cloth” solutions, whether it be a total free-market system or the replacement of the entire income tax system with a value-added tax, or…  There’s been a substantial number of these idealistic solutions over the years, but the difficulty all of them have is… there’s no practical way to get there from where we are now, except via catastrophe.  History suggests, rather strongly, that civilizations either make gradual changes or ossify and collapse… or sometimes, just implode into revolution or chaos.

What that means is, for example, that short of a civil war, a takeover by a dictator, or the complete and total meltdown of the banking and economic system, we are not going to see the total abolition of the welfare system as now practiced in the United States and its replacement by a totally new system.  Why not?  Because there’s no way to get there from where we are now, because too many people will oppose such radical change – unless our system collapses totally.  Even the threat of total collapse won’t do it.

The same thing appears to be true of dealing with global warming.  Until a few island chains cease to exist, until Miami and New Orleans are drowned, until New York City suffers such a storm-surge and hurricane or Nor’easter that all the subways are flooded and inoperative and the east coast is blacked out for weeks, there won’t be the economic or political support for meaningful measures… and by the time that there is, the problem will be so big that no amount resources will be able to save large sections of the planet where literally hundreds of millions of people live… and given who lives where, it appears likely that a great number of those who oppose gradual but meaningful change are going to be hit the hardest – along with a lot of those who would like change, but don’t have the power to effect it.

In the end, while ideals can prevail, they have to change  underlying political or social conditions first, but when ideals conflict with physical reality, reality wins.

At the moment, there are a number of court cases dealing with the conflict between “religious freedom” and statutory law. The core issue in many of them is whether various corporations or organizations should be required under law to provide medical services, primarily those involving contraception and abortion, to employees when those services are against the deeply held beliefs of the corporate/organization owners.

As I see it, there are three fundamental problems with the assertion that withholding such services from health care plans is an exercise of religious freedom, and that compelling the provision of those services is a violation of that freedom.  The first problem is the definition of “freedom of religion.”  The provision of coverage to pay for such services neither obligates the provider to endorse that service nor to require anyone to use it.  Employees are free to exercise their “religious” rights either to use or not use those services.  On the other hand, failure to provide such services requires employees who wish or need those services to pay for them or do without.  Therefore, allowing an exemption to such employers is effectively allowing the employing organization to impose its beliefs on all employees… and imposes an additional burden on the employees if they wish not to follow those beliefs.  This part of the issue has been raised and will doubtless be decided by the courts in some fashion or another, sooner or later.

The second aspect of the problem, however, doesn’t seem to have received much attention, and that’s the full scope of the economic discrimination the exercise of such “religious freedom” can have.  If Corporation A does not provide certain medical services, for whatever reason, the likelihood is that its healthcare costs will be lower than those of Corporation B, which does. In addition, the costs of those services, when used, must be absorbed by the employees of Corporation A.  Thus, Corporation A gains a competitive advantage while its employees are at a disadvantage. Given the fact that jobs remain hard to get, it’s also unlikely that many, if any, of the employees from Corporation A will depart over the additional costs they will incur.  Thus, the exercise of “religious freedom” also results in corporate economic gain while reducing the available income to employees who need the uncovered medical services.

The third aspect of the problem is that, at least in the United States, we don’t allow religious laws or practices to supersede basic laws.  You can’t break speed limits under the cloak of “religious freedom.”  Nor can you pay employees below the minimum wage on the basis of their religion or the lack of it.  You cannot base differentials in pay on religious practices or preferences – and yet, in effect, that is what an exemption from health coverage requirements would allow.

My bottom line is simple.  You have the right to your expression of your religious beliefs, but only so long as what you practice doesn’t harm others or pick their pockets, especially under the guise of religious freedom.  Whether what the courts will decide, and when, comes close to this position is still an open question.

The other day I received an email from a reader who expressed dissatisfaction with the collaborative efforts of several well-known writers and who wanted to know how I had resisted the trend of established writers entering into collaborations that produced weak or less satisfying collaborative efforts.  While it’s an interesting inquiry, upon reflection, I feel, it bears a resemblance to a question along the lines of “How did you possibly escape beating your dog when all the other writers do once they get established?”

That’s not to say that collaborative efforts are always weaker or that they should be avoided. I’ve said on more than one occasion that collaboration ideally should only be attempted when the work is something that neither author could produce alone.  And sometimes, frankly, the collaboration is far better than either could accomplish alone, as in the case of the musical works of Gilbert and Sullivan.  [I’m not about to offer a public comparison in F&SF].

I’ve only done one collaboration, the ill-fated if well-reviewed Green Progression, with Bruce Scott Levinson, and that was a book which would have been difficult for me to do without his expertise in various areas, and it was a relatively easy collaboration because we were also working at the same Washington, D.C., consulting firm at the time. The book is far, far better than its dismal sales would indicate, but it’s also an indication that, even if one of the authors is moderately well-known, the name recognition of an author doesn’t necessarily carry over to a collaboration in terms of sales.

Some “collaborations” also result from necessity.  The final books of The Wheel of Time necessitated what was essentially a collaboration between Robert Jordan, posthumously, and Brandon Sanderson.  Although Sanderson technically wrote more than 90% [if the numbers I’ve heard are correct] of the last three books, the ground work had been laid by Jordan and there was an outline, as well as some 40,000 words or more of Jordan’s prose for Brandon to work with, which, in my mind, at least, makes it a collaboration rather than a ghost-written conclusion. Years ago, Piers Anthony did something similar with a book entitled Through the Ice, in completing a book largely finished by a young author named Robert Kornwise, who suffered an untimely and early death.

In thinking about collaborations I’ve read and the books that I’ve kept, I surveyed my shelves and the volumes on my e-reader and realized that I’ve only kept one collaboration, besides my own, at least ones that I know of, since I do know a number of authors doing collaborations under a single pen name, and there well may be others of which I’m unaware.  While that can’t be mere chance, it does suggest that, for me, collaborations don’t have the feel or flavor of a single-author book.

In my own instance, part of the answer to why I don’t do collaborations any more is simple.  I don’t feel either the desire or need to, and I really enjoy working on my own ideas at my own pace, which might well be just because I’m a type A control freak so far as my writing is concerned.