In God Is Watching You, the evolutionary biologist Dominic Johnson contends that religion has its roots in the evolution of the human mind and human societies, and is thus unlikely ever to disappear, contrary to the fantasies of the “New Atheists”; instead, it resurfaces as New Age spirituality, superstitions, or political ideology. Johnson focuses specifically on the selective advantages of fear of divine retribution, whether in the form of hellfire, karma, or whatever else. Accepting Johnson’s basic thesis, Lawrence Klepp argues that it might be something else about religion that is most ingrained in the human psyche:

In Johnson’s view, . . . [the] old or new atheist vision of modernity—a scientifically guided, religion-free world—is a mirage. Science can study religion, accommodate it, explain things without it, but not replace it: “The human mind,” in the words of Edward O. Wilson, “evolved to believe in gods. It did not evolve to believe in biology.”

So far, so good. But I suspect that what fundamentalism has in common with modern utopian and ultra-nationalist political movements and with New Age mystiques and quasi-religious practices like meditation and vegetarianism is a quest for purity, not a yen for supernatural punishment. Modernity is complex, confused, urban, erotic, anxious: in its neon-lit light, ancient pieties can look pure. The same goes for peasants, primeval nature, primitive tribes, Tibetan Buddhists, and ethereal diets. Or radiant, rational, religion-free futures.

So I think Johnson oversells his wrathful gods. Even in terms of social utility, as enforcers of human cooperation, they may not be indispensable and they can be counterproductive. He admits that the pagan Greek and Roman gods, who were capricious and of doubtful moral character themselves, had virtually no bearing on the virtue of their worshippers. A sense of tradition, civic duty, honor, and shame sufficed to keep most people in line. The same can be said of many other societies, ancient and modern. . . .

In any case, even as a backhanded, evolutionary endorsement of religion, this book, with its stress on supernatural surveillance and retribution, won’t please most believers, who are moved by other things that faith offers: a sense of transcendence, a feeling of reconciliation with nature and God and others, communion, and compassion. And, at least, a strong hint of cosmic truth.

As this newsletter noted last week, Gaza is not suffering from famine, and the efforts to suggest that it is—which have been going on since at least the beginning of last year—are based on deliberate manipulation of the data. Nor, as Shany Mor explains, does international law require Israel to feed its enemies:

Article 23 of the Fourth Geneva Convention does oblige High Contracting Parties to allow for the free passage of medical and religious supplies along with “essential foodstuff, clothing, and tonics intended for children under fifteen” for the civilians of another High Contracting Party, as long as there is no serious reason for fearing that “the consignments may be diverted from their destination,” or “that a definite advantage may accrue to the military efforts or economy of the enemy” by the provision.

The Hamas regime in Gaza is, of course, not a High Contracting Party, and, more importantly, Israel has reason to fear both that aid provisions are diverted by Hamas and that a direct advantage is accrued to it by such diversions. Not only does Hamas take provisions for its own forces, but its authorities sell provisions donated by foreign bodies and use the money to finance its war. It’s notable that the first reports of Hamas’s financial difficulties emerged only in the past few weeks, once provisions were blocked.

Yet, since the war began, even European states considered friendly to Israel have repeatedly demanded that Israel “allow unhindered passage of humanitarian aid” and refrain from seizing territory or imposing “demographic change”—which means, in practice, that Gazan civilians can’t seek refuge abroad. These principles don’t merely constitute a separate system of international law that applies only to Israel, but prolong the suffering of the people they are ostensibly meant to protect:

By insisting that Hamas can’t lose any territory in the war it launched, the international community has invented a norm that never before existed and removed one of the few levers Israel has to pressure it to end the war and release the hostages.

These commitments have . . . made the plight of the hostages much worse and much longer. They made the war much longer than necessary and much deadlier for both sides. And they locked a large civilian population in a war zone where the de-facto governing authority was not only indifferent to civilian losses on its own side, but actually had much to gain by it.