Christian Life 28 - On Addiction

There is a young man living in my house to whom I am not related.  He gave me permission to post his story here so long as I did not reveal his name or any identifying information.  I have known this young man most of his life.  At the age of 17, he lost both parents in reasonably short order and had no other living relatives in the area.  He asked me at the time if he could move in with me and I refused.  It wasn't that I couldn't have made room for him; I probably could have.  The problem was that he had a drug problem, and I felt like I could do nothing for him.

As time went on, the drug problem grew worse.  He lost what nominal housing he had and wound up on the street.  He worked occasionally in temp labor, but any money he received was spent on his drug of choice.  He finally ended up, in a drug-induced stupor, committing a felony and spent a couple of years in state prison.  When he came up for parole, he asked again if he could move in.  This time I said "yes."  He has been with me for a few years now, and I would be hard-pressed to have stronger feelings for him were he my own son.  He has gotten a job and a driver's license, a bank account with money in it, which he can balance himself.  He has paid for a car with his own earnings and was recently promoted in his job to a position of assistant manager.  He is working on his GED and attends church whenever his work schedule allows.  He completed his parole requirements a couple of years ago now.  His "debt to society" has been paid.  We are currently discussing the indecipherable concept of credit ratings.

I'll come back to this in a minute.

I had something of an epiphany this morning, and I think it answers a question about which I have been curious for some time: why am I having so much difficulty reaching people?  I had hoped that, by now, I had been fairly thorough in my presentation.  In the briefest of summaries, I have presented the following arguments:

(1) There is no logical reason for disbelief in the supernatural.  Not only does science not preclude the supernatural, many scientific discoveries of recent years actually support the possibility.  Scientism, stoicism, naturalism, materialism and humanism cannot logically be seen as improvements over theism.

(2) There are many cognitive biases that hold the potential for clouding one's mind, but these can be overcome when recognized for what they are.

(3) Religious persons are by no means immune to cognitive biases, but the shortsightedness of another should serve as no excuse for shortsightedness in oneself.

(4) The mind acts as a bully as regards the body and soul.

(5) Everything about Western ideology is wrong.

(6) The church can be reformed and brought back to its original design if prayer and mediation - not rhetoric and rock music - are returned to their central position in the life of the church.

Even having made these points and having "shown my work" as it were, almost all of the responses I've received (none of them actually made as comments to the blog, but more in person) have been of a scoffing nature by theists and atheists alike.  Ironically, no one has yet questioned any of the evidence I've presented, they simply appear to dislike my conclusions.  Nor has anyone yet countered any of my points with evidence of their own.  Every disagreement presented thus far has come from the "I Don't Wike It" file.  Until today, I haven't understood why this might be.  I now think it possible that I've yet to dig up the root problem: addiction.

Why did I not let the young man in our opening story move in with me in the first place?  Because I could not have helped him at the time.  As my young friend knows - as any recovering addict knows - the first and often most difficult step in recovery is simply acknowledging that one has an addiction in the first place, but no one can help an addict until the addict realizes his need for help.  This crucial first step is one the addict must take alone.  To avoid this step, the addict will spew an endless list of excuses for his addiction: "I can quit any time I want!" or "there are a lot of people worse than me!" or "you have no idea what I've been through!" or "it doesn't interfere with my job/relationships" or "I'm too busy to worry about it" or "the addiction helps me perform better" or "you just don't understand my situation" or - my personal favorite - "it's your fault I'm like this."  He will blame everything for his addiction except the addiction itself!  And why is that?  Because there are no quick fixes for addiction.  I believe the generally accepted rule of thumb among professional therapists is any treatment plan that lasts less than 90 days will not likely be effective.  At least one of the sources I used for this post considers this a grotesquely conservative estimate.

So, what is the addict really saying when he uses these excuses?  He's saying "I'm afraid.  I'm afraid of the unknown; I'm afraid of change.  I don't know what the recovery process will be like, nor what my life will be like post-recovery.  What I have now may be odious, but at least it's familiar. At least I am comfortable in my egregiousness."  Against such a tempest of fear, how can faith stand?

My thesis today is this: we are all addicted to things, and virtually none of us knows it, nor are we inclined to do much about it even when a kindhearted interventionist points it out.  The drug dealers who want to keep us addicted are all around us, coming at us from every corner; we cannot turn away, for they are legion.  And to what are we addicted?  What are our drugs of choice?  Competition.  Spending money.  Scrolling social media.  Anger.  Divisiveness.  Don't believe me?  Try to engage three people in meaningful conversation around a dinner table for a reasonably brief 45 minutes.  Assuming over half of them can turn off their phones and engage at all, count how many times any of the preceding topics come up.  Change the subject and count how long it takes for any of these topics to come back up.  Point out the problem and see if you don't hear some variation to the excuses listed two paragraphs back.  Should any of the examples mentioned in this paragraph have hit a bit close to home for you, gentle reader, ask yourself if you are not feeling a bit defensive as you read this sentence.  If not, are there any other "drug" examples not listed that might have triggered such a defensive response?

After the fact of the addiction itself, perhaps the second hardest thing to convince a drug addict of is the fact that his drug dealer is not his friend.  Contrary to assurances otherwise, the dealer does not wish for the addict's good.  The dealer does not have any empathy for the addict at all.  The dealer has one concern and one concern only - keeping the addict addicted and thereby ensuring a steady income stream.  The dealer doesn't care if the addiction is ruining the addict's life, doesn't care if the addict has been reduced to stealing the money he pays his dealer, just so long as the money keeps coming.  And to this end, the dealer will happily sweet-talk the addict, providing any number of additional excuses for maintaining the addiction: you're not actually addicted to hamburgers and hair dye and payday loans and this particular cellular service and that brand of vodka.  You deserve these things.  The next time you're watching commercial television or listening to a political debate, count how many times in an hour you are told that you deserve this or are worth that.  This dandruff remedy is expensive, but you're worth it.  Overweight?  It's not your fault!  Don't diet or exercise, just take this medication.  After all, you deserve it.  Now remember that these same commercials are available inside federal prisons. Do felons deserve the same things you do?  Are they also worth it?

Just as an addiction to meth is very, very good for the meth dealer, just as an addiction to vodka is very, very good for the distiller, the brewer and the purveyor, so anger and divisiveness and FOMO (fear of missing out) are very, very good for Madison Avenue, and, in turn, Wall Street and Washington, D.C.  As we discussed in the post titled "On Peace," fear, anger and narcissism are great for a capitalist economy.  No so for peace, serenity, awe and joy.  People with these latter attributes don't need vodka, hamburgers, hair dye, fancy sports cars or tranquilizers.  Basically, contented people are very, very bad for business.  So, of course the Western drug dealers -both the legal and illegal ones - are going to provide every possible excuse to steer us all clear of such derisive concepts as tranquility and self-discipline.

Perhaps the reason for so few comments to this post, and the malevolence of the few I've received, is that I've not addressed the real problem so many Westerners have today with theism: the fact that they have anti-theistic addictions of which they are unaware or are afraid to deal with.

Recovering from an addiction is hard.  It's hard to admit that one even has an addiction.  Once the admission is made, it's hard to face the frightening prospect of change.  It's hard to commit to the steps needed to recover.  In the event of a relapse, it's hard to forgive oneself, pick oneself up, go back to the beginning and start again.  In fact, everything about addiction recovery is hard.  Help is available, but the addict must commit to doing the work him/herself.

Better, I suppose, to just live with all the excuses and simply stay addicted.  It may be horrific, but at least its familiar.

Pax