David Cameron’s comments, this October, over Facebook’s decision to allow graphic videos on its site – in particular, one depicting the decapitation of a woman, thought to be in Mexico – have added fuel to the debate on internet censorship. In an article in the New Statesman, Laurie Penny succinctly skewered Cameron’s choice of words: that Facebook “must explain their actions to worried parents”. As Penny points out, it is the victims of violence that our primary concern should lie with, and hiding crime to soothe fretting parents does nothing to protect these real victims. “Somewhere out there a woman in a pink top may be lying dead. That her corpse can no longer frighten children on the internet will not comfort her family – and it should not comfort us”. The brand of censorship suggested by Cameron’s phrasing is, indeed, one that we should ward against – censorship as closing our eyes to reality, of choosing the privilege to forget.

Does this then mean that the instinct to censor is entirely misguided? Penny is right that if people are horrified and disturbed by a beheading video, that is surely the only natural reaction, and not one that ought to be apologised for. Yet part of the danger of uncensored, unlimited viewing is that it encourages not horror but apathy – an image loses its power to shock, once it has become interweaved into the fabric of our everyday lives. Many of us have left the room for our tea break during a TV appeal for African poverty, or thrown a leaflet on the fate of refugees onto the same recycling pile as the pizza adverts that it came with. In so doing we are not trying to be callous. But it is impossible and exhausting to maintain an emotional engagement with such extremities during every minute of every day – to do so would leave us unable to function. This is why format is so important.

Just as many of the unsanitised images of pain brought to our attention by charity appeals have now become ubiquitous and, thus, no longer shocking, so too may the kind of graphic violence witnessed in the Facebook beheading. It is disconcerting how quickly an internet search can yield promises of terrifying degradation. In just 0.36 seconds (according to Google) I can watch “various masked men assault a man with a bat and electric stungun”, “two partners […] castrated and beheaded” – all part of the proliferation of Mexican cartel (“narco-killings”) videos. Nor have I had to do the pervert’s handshake and enter some shady corner of the web for this – this site is the first result, right below the smiling colours of the Google logo.

It is part of learning about the world around us that we must confront disturbing images. We have all visited exhibitions on the Holocaust, sat through documentaries on trafficking and prostitution. But when we visit a museum or sit down to a serious programme, we are agreeing to approach its material with a particular mindset – to take the time to think seriously about something, its context, its ramifications, and to try and understand all those involved; to meet them halfway, in a sense. The internet often requires no such effort on our part. We do not need to allocate a time to mentally commit in this way, but are all too easily washed through a stream of links. We can end up viewing terrible things out of nothing but morbid curiosity, because it is there – easily and cheaply offered to us, to tempt our disbelief. If what we see troubles us enough to disrupt our day, we can at least take comfort in the fact that we have not lost our sense of wrongness. But the more exposed we are, the more desensitised we will become.

The act of censoring the internet may be impossible. We can only penalise higher profile sites, like Facebook and Twitter, while content will continue to flourish elsewhere. But large, mainstream companies of Facebook’s kind arguably do still have a responsibility, if not in censoring violent material entirely, then in framing it or controlling its access in such a way that viewing it must be a thoughtful and responsible decision on our part. It is unacceptable to have a world in which the extreme suffering of some becomes the mere viewing fodder of others, abandoned as soon as day-to-day distractions call. When it is also easy to sleep with eyes open, we must defend our capacity to be horrified. 

Last Sunday, an article written by Leo Mercer published on the Cherwell website described how the new Sunday Assembly or “atheist church” is no contradiction and turns out to be a way of revitalising the atheist movement to become an inclusive community of those who want to celebrate “what it means to be human” through literature, music, scientific discovery and a dash of comedy.

Then comes the president of OICCU (Oxford Intercollegiate Christian Union) along with an article which essentially says “Atheism is stupid, nerrrr”.

So here’s a blow by blow of what he said and what I have in response.

A new atheist church in Oxford? Praise God! Who wouldn’t want a movement that’s committed to making a positive impact in our community?

We’re guessing Josh Peppiatt?

It’s wonderful to hear of the Sunday Assembly’s desire to be ‘a place of love that is open and accepting’. Leo Mercer argued last week in these pages that the Sunday Assembly ‘offered those things that religion provides, though without dogmas or liturgy’. He mentioned some of those things that the Sunday Assembly seeks to emulate: ‘community, a place in which to reflect, a sense of purpose, and so on.’

Wow Peppiatt, you’re really selling this to me – where can we sign up? We’re guessing that by “emulating” you mean doing right?

And yet I wonder:

Oh right, that was just a set up for why this is a bad idea. Damn you, Peppiatt!

Are the wonderful aims and desires of the Sunday Assembly really compatible with its self-conscious atheism?

Our atheism is SO self-conscious. It thinks it’s overweight and keeps comparing itself to unrealistic irreligious types presented in the media like Dawkins and Hitchens and Fry (phwoar).

Community and purpose aren’t ideals that Christians have happened upon, disconnected from what it is we believe; rather they flow from our understanding of the world – the ‘dogmas’ the Sunday assembly wants to do without. The two are inseparable.

Whoooa, hold on there, sailor! We know the Bible is big on community and purpose (Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. Galatians 4:9-12. A brilliant message slightly spoiled towards the end) but to say that the two are inseparable? We’re pretty sure the pre-Jesus Jews were pretty community based and had purpose as did the ancient Egyptians or Hindus and pretty much everyone, ever.

Actually, come to mention it, we’ve got a sense of community and purpose. People are fucking lovely and we’ve got purpose falling out of our ears. In fact, we’d go one further and say that humans don’t even have a copyright on “community and purpose”, let alone Christians. Have you ever watched ants? They’re always together striding around with great purpose. If anything they need to chill down and get some ‘me’ time. Then there’s the whole “community is important guys, but remember to fuck up anyone who the man up top doesn’t like!” thing. For more read 1 Samuel 15:3!

I’m not surprised by the Sunday Assembly’s desire to build inclusive communities. The urge to gather in community is common to all humanity.

Wow, we must have been retroactively convincing there. Far from Christianity and community being inseparable, all of humanity gets the social urge now.

But can an organisation that states ‘we come from nothing and go to nothing’ really have any basis for affirming that we should ‘live better, help often, wonder more’?

Yes. We will respond to this point properly when you make one. Enclose an SAE.

By contrast the Christian understanding of humanity being made equally in the image of God was the bedrock of the human rights we all cherish.

While “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus,” totally rocks our socks, we can’t help but think that it’s not entirely sincere. A book that says that slaves are equal to owners but doesn’t make that little extra effort to suggest getting rid of the barbaric notion of person-ownership is setting itself up for a fall. But of course we mustn’t forget the more explicitly unequitable:

• “ ‘Cretans are always liars, evil brutes, idle bellies’. He has surely told the truth”
• “Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection. But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be in silence.”
• “An Ammonite or Moabite shall not enter into the congregation of the LORD; even to their tenth generation shall they not enter into the congregation of the LORD for ever;”
• “Happy is he who repays you for what you have done to us – he who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks.”
• “Slaves, submit yourselves to your masters with all respect, not only to the good and gentle but also to the cruel.”

Yeah, that’s a much better bedrock than JS Mill.

Couple that with the Christian understanding of us as flawed, yet unconditionally loved by God, and you have a strong basis to treat others respectfully and lovingly despite inevitably being let down and letting others down.

At the heart of atheism lies science and the scientific method, and at the heart of science is the ‘understanding of us as flawed’. We’re all fucked up. Humans have blind spots because our eyes are wired wrong, most of us can’t rub our tummies and pat our heads, Justin Bieber has sold 15 million albums. You don’t need to tell us that we’re all messed up in our own special ways.

The being loved by God thing is a bit rich when the only reason you suggest people should be nice to other is because He’s threatening everyone with eternal torture or offering them an utterly selfish way out of the real world as reward, rather than everyone genuinely wanting to help their fellow person to live a better life.

Of course, in practice atheists are often more loving and generous than Christians – but in principle, with an atheistic understanding of the world, there’s no basis for affirming love instead of hate, or helping instead of hindering.

Evidence: “atheists are often more living and generous than Christians”

Claim: “there’s no basis for affirming love instead of hate, or helping instead of hindering”

Nice. You know, maybe you’re wrong, maybe we have actually worked out a basis for affirming love. Maybe it was one of the philosophers. Maybe it was a Romantic poet? Maybe it was Greg Wallace?

You know what, it seems that we don’t even need a well thought out basis for all those things because we seem to be doing preeeeeeetty well without one. There’s likely a hell of a lot more love in the world now than 1000 years ago and it’d be surprising if the number of atheists back then was higher than it is now. It’s pretty bloody bold to claim that those who don’t believe in the Christian god are without any basis for moral behaviour, when that’s just clearly nonsense.

I fear that in their search for loving community, the Sunday Assembly have mistaken the trimmings for the Sunday roast: I’m not connected with this stranger sitting next to me because I’m singing a Disney song with them,

Hey Josh, let’s not say something we’re going to regret here. Are you saying that singing Disney songs doesn’t bring people together? What about Jordan and Peter Andre’s “A Whole New World”?

but because we both know that through Jesus we have been made right with God and are now in his family together.

That’s definitely why people feel community in Church. Cos of Jesus. You know, Harry went to church for a number of years as an atheist and he felt a greater sense of community with the good people of St Martin’s Laugharne than he did in the years before. Peter spent most of the time in church as a kid colouring (still his favourite past-time) and wasn’t too taken in by the God thing, but he did love a good harvest festival.

The same goes for meaning and purpose. Jesus says that we are to love God with all we are and have, and to love our neighbour as ourselves.

But with all my God-lovin’ how are we going to love our neighbour? Aaaaaaagh.

And he provides powerful motivation for those who seek to live out this generous teaching by setting us the ultimate example: loving us so much that he died for us.

Wow, how fucking generous of you Jesus for telling us to love one another. We hope we didn’t put you out of your way to get here?

And how is Jesus dying for us a “motivation”, exactly? It’s definitely an example of (misplaced) selflessness but I wouldn’t say it’s a motivation. Are people thinking “ooo if only I love my neighbour more maybe one day I’ll get the ‘Lover of the Month’ and end up on the big shiny cross”? And what about the fact that even though the guy supposedly dies for our sins but we’re also supposedly still in the shit with the big man and might get “ACCESS DENIED” at the pearly gates? Bit of a waste.

But if we ‘don’t do God’ then can there be ultimate meaning?

TELL US, JOSH, TELL US!

Sartre seemed to recognise this tension in Existentialism and Human Emotions: ‘If I’ve discarded God the Father, there has to be someone to invent values. [You’ve got to take things as they are. Moreover to say that we invent values means nothing else but this:] life has no meaning a priori. Before you come alive, life is nothing; it’s up to you to give it meaning, and value is nothing else but the meaning you choose.’ [In that way, you see, there is a possibility of creating a human community…].

We’ve helped Josh out a bit here and included the rest of the quote in the closed brackets. Clearly he was pushed on the word count and didn’t get the chance to include Sartre’s conclusion: that we CAN create our own values. We wouldn’t even agree with Sartre to say that our created values are entirely arbitrary – We (and many others) believe there is some robust set of morals that we can derive without needing a man in the sky. But that’s just us (it’s not).

Can we honestly feel the depth of this predicament and yet continue to celebrate life with integrity?

So Josh is saying that if we celebrate life, and don’t believe in the Christian god, that we need to feel guilty. That the ‘predicament’, being the lack of any reason to assume some inherited morality from a mystical sky wizard, is even something we should be worried about more than any other philosophical question. Sure, it’s certainly a good thing to make sure we get it right, but why on earth should we feel guilty for wanting to find out those answers properly rather than take your word for it that you’ve got it all wrapped up nicely in a book.

I wish the Sunday Assembly every success as it seeks to impact our city for the best.

You sure gave that impression.

And yet the question remains: can the reality of an atheistic worldview sustain the goals the Sunday Assembly longs for?

No… yes…shit. Your rhetorical questions are confusing!  Also, atheism isn’t a worldview, although you probably know that seen as you’re the president of the Christian Society.

Could it be that the Christian understanding of the nature of reality and the human condition is actually the only basis for living better, finding purpose and building community, ideals that are the centre of what it means to be human?

You know what, everything else you’ve said up to this point has been fine by me. We don’t particularly care too much. But what you’re saying here is that everyone other than Christians, All 6 billlion of them, ALL OF THEM, are completely incapable of living better, finding purpose and building communities. Now you just offend me. We’re not just saying this on behalf of atheists but on behalf of Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, Jews, Sikhs, Humanists, Shintoists, Bahá’í, Zoroastrians, Jains and even, God help me, the Scientologists.

Are you suggesting that all of these people have been going along without the ideals at the centre of what it means to be human? That’s quite a claim. We hope you’re willing to receive 6 billion angry letters from these sub-humans demanding to know why you didn’t tell them sooner that they don’t have an understanding of the human condition.

In other words, Josh, you’re making Christians come across as arrogant. You claim dibs on a bunch of ideas that predate religion and suggest that non-Christians are not moral. That they cannot celebrate life, that they cannot feel the need to help their fellow human. I’ll admit that the The Sunday Assembly does sound a little odd, but it does nothing other than to try to bring people together as a community, to recognise the wonderful things in life and to provide a way of doing all of those things without all the unpleasant add-ons or the arrogance to suggest they’re the only ones who have got it right.

But all is not lost for Mr Peppiatt. On behalf of all those people above we ask for an apology. An apology for the suggestion that every other group of the world is failing as a human by not following the principles of the Bible. And in return, we’ll follow Matthew 18:21

“How many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times”

At the end of fifth week, Cherwell published an investigation into the provision for disabled students across the University, with the somewhat unsurprising finding that “lack of coordination between University and College authorities is currently the biggest hindrance to provision for disabled students”. Good intentions and well-meaning policies fall somewhat flat when implemented.  

Last week, it was Disability Awareness Week and only the third week of this term in which I was able to hear my lectures. I am one of about two million people in the UK who rely on hearing aids to compensate for hearing loss. I am also a keen tuba player, lovingly tend to a Bromeliad called Sven, and appreciate a good bit of knitwear, and so hated when I had to be defined instead by my hearing impairment, as my life revolved around bringing together disparate people and departments in order to sort out basic arrangements for my needs.

I am a second-year music student, and second and third year music students often share lectures in Examination Schools (namely the North and South Schools). The issue with these rooms for a hearing impaired person centre on the fact that they are large and have a boomy acoustic. Unlike our ears, hearing aids are fairly unsophisticated at picking up important sounds and fading out background noise. As a result, often that one person with the seemingly incurable cough, or who appears to be noisily making an origami chinchilla out of the handout, can be better heard than the lecturer. It is also harder to lip read, a dubious skill to rely on at best, as there is still some distance from the lecturer to the front row. This is made less of a challenge, if not totally sorted, by the use of a T Loop.

Hearing Induction (T) Loops are a system used to amplify sound from a particular source via a magnetic field that can then be picked up by hearing aids. Their provision is required where reasonably possible by the Equality Act 2010. In the case of lectures they are invaluable as, once turned to the ‘T’ setting, hearing aids will only pick up sound heard by a single microphone. They are fairly ubiquitous – all lecture halls have them installed, but also places like taxis, post offices, theatres and churches make use of T Loop technology. I was surprised, therefore, when I encountered so little knowledge of the system when I first went to lectures at Exam Schools.

Before my first lecture, I enquired as to the nature of the T Loop system in my exam hall, as often they require neck-pieces to pick up the signal and transmit it to the hearing aids. After explaining to the steward what the T Loop was, he followed with a few minutes of confused walkie-talkie conversation with a colleague, and I was informed that it should all be fine. Having disclosed my disability to the DAS, and being known as a hearing impaired student in the music faculty, I was surprised that my asking about provisions hadn’t been expected, and that the staff at Exam Schools hadn’t been informed of my needs. Unsurprisingly enough, given the confusion, the T Loops weren’t working, so I again approached the Information Desk and was told that if I arrived early for my next lecture, they would ensure that it was turned on in time.

I turned up an hour early, again was told that it was switched on and should be fine, and again it wasn’t. I was informed that a sound engineer would fix the problem before the next lecture. More lectures without T Loops, and each time I approached the desk I was told something different – to try sitting in a different place, getting the lecturer to move closer to the microphones on the lectern and so forth. I managed to find the sound engineer who stated that the T Loop systems had been installed some time ago and that he’d just assumed that they were on all of the time, but now that I had brought it up, he would check. By now it was second week, and I was already beginning to get behind on work.

By this point I had also approached the Disability Advisory Service about getting some temporary portable T Loop systems to tide me over, and while they were going about sorting this out, I had a lecture where a microphone obviously set up as part of the T Loop system had appeared by the lectern. It still didn’t work. On approaching the Information Desk, once again, I was informed that actually the system did involve a neck-piece, that this was on order, and that it could arrive at any point between a week’s and a month’s time. The member of staff running the desk, with whom I’d become well acquainted by this point, acknowledged how poor this was. I couldn’t help but agree.

However, a well-timed email to the DAS detailing how much work I now had to catch up on seemed to somehow speed up this process, and by my next lecture, a neck-piece was waiting for me at Exam Schools, which I now pick up and drop off after every lecture.

Comparing this farrago of information and action at Exam Schools to my treatment at college – where they researched technology like vibrating fire alarms and T Loops before I came, and always are concerned about my welfare – the dichotomy in treatment is obvious and frustrating.

I cannot be the only deaf or hard of hearing person to ever have had lectures in Exam Schools, and I am concerned for those who would not – or could not – kick up the fuss that I had to. Sensory impairments, by their nature, affect communication with other people, and my concern is a standard one – that people afraid to speak out will just fall through the net.

A new online image library hosting a collection of past and present images of Oxford was launched last Thursday.

The database, called ‘Oxford University Images’ currently holds around 6,000 still images and pieces of video footage of Oxford. Amongst the older images in the collection are illustrations of the Bodelian Library and a photograph of students skating on the frozen Thames at Port Meadow. Some of the modern images show students protesting on Cornmarket street and walking around at the Fresher’s Fair.

The project was set up as a partnership between departments and colleges of the university, the Ashmolean Museum and the Oxford University Museum of Natural History.

The collection also contains a variety of images courtesy of the Oxford Historical Centre.

A spokesperson for the University of Oxford explained why the collection was created. He said, “There is huge demand for images of Oxford, with the city hosting around 10 million tourists each year and being the centre of numerous films, TV programmes and books.

“We wanted to bring together our wonderful collections of rich and varied images from across the University into one easily searchable library. 

He noted that, “This resource will be of benefit both to members of the University and commercial organisations who want to have access to high-quality, correctly captioned material.”

First year Keble student, Alex Tsiotias, observed from the photos that the biggest difference between being an Oxford student now and 100 years ago is the clothing. He said, “The striking thing is the difference in appearance in terms of clothing between then and now. This is quite understandably due to normal changes and progression in fashion, but the juxtaposition between how people then and now look in everyday circumstances are nonetheless particularly notable.”

The images can be seen at www.oxforduniversityimages.com