Is religion the most destructive institution in the world today?

Religion

Noun

1.a set of beliefs concerning the cause, nature, and purpose of the universe, esp. when considered as the creation of a superhuman agency or agencies, usually involving devotional and ritual observances, and often containing a moral code governing the conduct of human affairs.

Is religion the most destructive institution in the world today?

What a question.

I, for one, am not religious. Although many of my friends and the people I know are. So I will try to answer as best I can.

Religion, like so many other institutions, is hierarchical and sexist. Religious doctrine was written by men, and religious texts are read and interpreted predominantly by men. God is male, Allah is male, Buddha is male, Jesus is male. Eve was made from one of the ribs of Adam, implying that she is inferior to, and controllable by, him.

Religion is based on the separation of man from nature. You can be a Good Christian, or whatever you may be, and still destroy the world we live in. The world was made for man, and therefore he can do as he likes with it. I have heard the argument that humans are superior to animals etcetera, because, after all, have you ever seen an ape owning a house, a dog driving a car?

And my response to that is, is that necessarily clever? Cars, amongst billions of other man made inventions, are immensely destructive things. Is it clever to destroy? To kill without thought? To divide the world into tiny squares of land?

To roughly quote Douglas Adams' “The Hitch-hiker's Guide to the galaxy” from memory:

“Man believed that he was superior because he had created atomic bombs and waged war on his fellow humans, while all the dolphins had done was have fun and play in the water. Funnily enough, the dolphins believed that they were superior for precisely the same reasons.”

So, is religion the most destructive institution in the world today?

Richard Dawkins claims so in his documentary “The Root of All Evil.”

But to say that religion is “It”, is an oversimplification.

Education. Science. Corporations.

What of them?

Education serves to turn children into unquestioning, subservient little workers.

Science is a play on the religious separation from nature. Oh yes, they say that humans are animals too, but man is still superior, isn't he? They experiment on animals, create bigger and better ways to help global warming along, and to kill other humans.

Corporations continue the cycle of consuming and work. Earn more, buy more, and then you need to earn more in order to buy more. Round and round and round we go, until finally the Wheel of Fortune clicks to a stop at the spoke marked “Death”.

And there is so much more.

So, no. Religion is not the most destructive institution in the world today.

Then what is, you ask?

The institution to rule all institutions.

Civilisation.

The most interesting person you've ever met.

Her name was Draya. I first met her when I was on the bus going to school. She asked me if she could sit next to me. I said yes, of course. I was rather the School Jerk, so I was happy for anyone that wasn't a bully to sit there. I didn't notice the cat ears and claws until it was time to get off.
I don't know how many people meet their imaginary friend at the age of fourteen. And she was so real.
Draya, I miss you. You were my only friend. Come back. I'm sorry.
The day I lost her was the day my mother died.
I'd known that she was dying. But nothing had prepared me for the reality of her not being around any more. The phone call came at ten o'clock in the morning. My father answered, and when I heard him crying I ran downstairs. One look at his face and I knew what had happened. Draya lay a hand on my shoulder as he walked over and hugged me.
“I'm sorry.” She whispered into my ear as I stared numbly at my father's chest. He said I didn't have to go to school. I shook my head. I would go, because if I stayed at home I would have to think about her, and I couldn't bear that.
On the bus Draya didn't speak, just lay her arm on my shoulders and purred. It wasn't like her, usually she couldn't stop talking, and part of me wished she would start one of her pointless conversations with a question like: “Which would you prefer: To be eaten alive by ants, or be burnt alive as a witch?”
But I was also glad for her silence.
Perhaps I should take the time to describe Draya properly.
She was a little shorter than me, which meant she was fairly tall. She had long black hair, that ran wild and free of the torment of any brushes, combs, or shampoo. Her skin was dark, almost chocolatey in colour. She always wore the same frayed denim skirt and a matching vest , over a black T-shirt depicting a snow-leopard. She had pure white claws that she kept razor sharp with a nail file. Black cat ears would twitch back and forth as she listened to everything going on around her. Her eyes were yellow, with slits for pupils during the day, becoming orbs in darkness.
Her favourite sort of music was heavy rock, which was strange, because I hated it. Can imaginary friends have different likes and dislikes to their imaginer?
She was a wild girl. And the most interesting person I'd ever met.
I know, I know, I 'm talking about her as if she was real. But she was. At least, she was to me.
While we were at school I was teased for talking to myself when I was speaking to her. It was Brian Harrison of course. He's always trying to make me look stupid and uncool, and invariably succeeds. I won't go into the details, but I ended up with a blood lip and a black eye because of the encounter. My emotion levels had already obviously been running high, but now I was furious as well as miserable.
And I got mad at Draya.
She asked me if I was okay, and I blew up.
“Of course I'm not OK!” I hissed at her, quietly so that no-one would hear. “I've just been beaten up because of you, and you're not even real!”
I knew I shouldn't have said it as soon as the words came out of my mouth. She gave me a hurt look, and then just... Disappeared.
Draya, I'm so sorry. Come back. I'm all alone now.
Draya, I'm so lonely. I miss you.
I lay down my pen, and feel a single tear trickle down my cheek. I lost my Mother, and now I've lost her. I look at my watch. 12 am. It's time for bed.
As I crawl into bed and turn off my light, I suddenly sit upright. There is a noise at my bedroom door. And it sounds like cat claws, scratching to come in.

A children's story

A children's story.

We are the unborn children. We are walking down the beach, gazing around us at the other people here. Our feet sink into the warm sand. Ahead of us a group of adults are playing with a beach ball, throwing it from one person to the other, and each time the ball seems to be a little smaller. As we come closer we see that the ball is a tiny Earth. Many people are joining in with the game now, children as well. We call out to them, telling them to stop, but they laugh and throw even faster. The ball keeps growing smaller and smaller, and it's really obvious how much damage they're doing. We start to shout at them, and now we're joined by all the people who care about us. Here are all the ghosts of the animals that they've brought to extinction, all the people that they have destroyed and enslaved. We crowd around them, pressing closer and closer, and there is fear in their eyes. But they do not stop. As the ball diminishes, the swimmers in the water come onto shore, coughing and choking. The trees around the edge of the sand are shrivelling and dying. The creatures of the sea beach themselves in a desperate attempt to get away from the acidity of the water. Our tears pool at our feet, lapping at our toes, and even those are polluted now.
Finally one of us leaps for the Earth, now the size of a golf ball, and all of us join the struggle in a life or death game of keepings off. The tormentors throw the earth higher and higher. The birds swoop above us, and now one of them catches the earth in its claws, and flies far away, keeping it safe.
We all leave the beach, staring at the destruction. And the question that's beating a frantic tattoo inside our minds can be heard in the lamenting wails of all living things.
Why?