I'm religious. I'm a Buddhist. As I put up more of my essays on this site, you will get an impression of a man, deeply committed to scepticism, science and rationality. My forays into social policy are all based on liberal humanism. How do I explain my involvement with mystical religion?

Not with the tired old arguments about science versus faith. There is a tradition of linking scepticism, science and rationality with empiricism, and mystical religion with personal relevation. In this caricature the truths of science are seen as logical deductions from publicly available and agreed facts. Meanwhile the truths of religion are seen as personal responses to private revelation. The violent squabbles between the adherents of different religions, and indeed between the adherents of the same religion, reflect very poorly on their credibility compared to science.

I accept this caricature as painfully accurate. When my religion conflicts with science I give up that part of it. Indeed I discard large parts of it in the attempt to restore logical coherence. But remember how sceptical I am. The hard core of science which compels assent, is for me, very small. Which leads to an interesting inversion.

I cannot help noticing that in my forays into social policy I am disagreeing with others. Ofcourse I am right. My closely reasoned logical arguments are compelling. And they are wrong. Well intentioned though people are, they bring with them a great pile of emotional baggage. Their attempts at rationality are mere rationalisations, by which their emotions get their way, inspite of the rational minds attempts at logic.

Awkardly though, I am too thorough going a sceptic to be unaware of the asymmetry of the previous paragraph. What rigorous training prevents my emotions from `changing the points' in my head and sending my `train' of logical thought to whatever destination it chooses? None. And as I sit on my meditation cushion, infront of my statue of the Buddha, watching my thoughts come and go I become increasingly worried. How typical they seem of my class, my upbringing, the influences to which I have been exposed, the vagaries of temperament. I dare to disagree with others, all of us sleepwalkers, fighting in our dreams.

And so, outwith its small, hard core, the truths of science, logic, and rationality seem as badly discredited by disagreement as do the doctrines of organised religions by the awful squabbles both within and between. Meanwhile, I have my personal revelation: that I am in a sense `asleep', that I know this because my head is filled with nonsense little better than dreams, and that my most important task is my struggle to `wake-up'. This feels like my most precious piece of knowledge.