Mail By Zoe Brennan
Last updated at 2:10 AM on 29th July 2009
You might have been forgiven for thinking the BBC was introducing a new presenter of one of its ‘yoof’ shows. Small, mousey-haired, personable Samantha Stein was given prominent airtime right across the BBC network yesterday to talk about a children’s summer camp with a difference that she has set up in Britain.
For Ms Stein has an axe – a very big one – to grind. She is an atheist who believes that traditional faith-based summer camps are bad for young minds. So she has set up her own version, where children are encouraged to reject traditional religious teachings.
Around Ms Stein, 23, was a scene redolent of a Scout or Guide camp. In a lush, green corner of Somerset, Army-style tents were scattered in a clearing among trees. In the middle, makeshift log benches surrounded the compulsory, rock-ringed camp fire where, in the evening, the flames would play a merry dance across the circle of young faces.
This is not a modern take on Swallows And Amazons. Kumbaya is not sung here and the closest there is to a game is Hunt The Unicorn, of which more later. No, here at Camp Quest the hymn of choice is John Lennon’s Imagine, with its opening line: ‘Imagine there’s no heaven.’
Welcome to Britain’s first atheist summer camp for children aged between eight and 17.
Camp Quest – which stands for ‘Question, Understand, Explore, Search and Test’ – is supported by some of Britain’s leading atheists. Not surprisingly, the nation’s most prominent unbeliever, Richard Dawkins, a former professor for the public understanding of science at Oxford University, is among them.
The organisers insist that the week-long course at the Mill on the Brue outdoor activity centre will encourage youngsters to develop an open mind and their own belief system.
But others fear that it is little more than an attempt to indocrinate children with atheist views, closing their minds to all forms of organised religion.
Billed as ‘the first residential summer camp for the children of atheists, agnostics, humanists, freethinkers and all those who embrace a naturalistic rather than supernatural world view’, Camp Quest UK this week opened its tent flaps to 24 children.
With the motto ‘It’s Beyond belief’, its organisers hope to provide an alternative to traditional faith-based breaks, such as those run by the Scouts and local church groups. Parents are paying £275 for their children to attend the event.
And to help get it rolling, The Richard Dawkins Foundation for Reason and Science has made a donation of £500 to fund a ‘philosophy for children’ counsellor at the retreat.
Dawkins, author of The God Delusion, the atheists’ ‘bible’, says: ‘Camp Quest encourages children to think for themselves, sceptically and rationally. There is no indoctrination, just encouragement to be open-minded, while having fun.’
Ms Stein, the camp director, and new darling of the BBC, is more explicit. She says: ‘I think that people are possibly getting tired of the influence that religion has in society, possibly an unearned influence, and trying to come up with alternative things that will instil values that they want to transmit to their children.
‘We are not prepared to just be quiet and shut up. We want to have our own point of view and have something for our own children.’
Ms Stein is doing a Masters degree in religion and contemporary society at King’s College, London. Born and raised in Buckinghamshire, she is the daughter of a non-practising Lutheran mother and a father who is a non-practising Jew. As Stein explains it, she was raised to ‘make up my own mind’.
The Camp Quest concept originated in the U.S. and Stein first read about it in the footnotes of Dawkins’s book The God Delusion while studying psychology at York University. She was so intrigued that she organised a private visit to a Camp Quest in Michigan two years ago, where she was inspired to set up an affiliated ‘mission’ in the UK.
She insists that the British camp will not take part in ‘Bible-bashing’. It will simply be a way of encouraging children to think for themselves.
But she admits that part of that process involves ‘encouraging the children to ask questions about beliefs’.
The British camp has, however, imported one prominent element from the original concept: a mind game centred on imaginary unicorns. The children are told to imagine that the camp is surrounded by unicorns which cannot be seen or touched, but which are there because there has to be ‘faith’ that they exist.
They are then encouraged to develop rational arguments to prove that the unicorns cannot and do not exist, with anyone who manages it awarded a prize – a £10 note signed by Richard Dawkins.
It does not take a genius to work out that the ‘unicorns’ are, of course, an unsubtle metaphor for any ‘invisible’ deity, whether Christian, Muslim or otherwise, though Ms Stein denies this is the case.
‘The unicorns are not necessarily a metaphor for God,’ she says. ‘They are to show kids how to think critically. We are not trying to bash religion, but it encourages people to believe in a lot of things for which there is no evidence.’
For example, the children will also study astronomy, ‘pseudo-science’ such as tarot cards, and question why horoscopes are so popular.
An expert from the Natural History Museum in London will give a talk on fossils, and a musician will perform ‘sceptical scientific songs’. A debate on ‘Can you believe what you see?’ will look at optical illusions. There are also physical activities such as river rafting and an assault course.
Yet the whole event is part of a growing trend that has seen prominent atheists become increasingly vocal – some would say, zealous – in their determination to spread their belief that there is no God.
Most notably, they funded a high-profile advertising campaign at the beginning of the year which saw posters on buses bearing the slogan: ‘There is probably no God. Now stop worrying and enjoy your life.’
The campaign – backed by the British Humanist Association – was the brainchild of a 28-year-old comedy writer named Ariane Sherine, who wrote a blog on the Guardian’s website criticising Christian adverts she had seen on London buses. As part of her blog, she suggested that readers could send in £5 donations to help fund an atheists’ counter-campaign.
It wasn’t long before the proposal caught the eye of Professor Dawkins, who pledged to match any public donations up to a maximum of £5,500. In the end, there was no need for his guarantee: the fundraising campaign far exceeded expectations, raising a total of £136,000 from donations, which has since been used to pay for atheist adverts on London public transport and on buses across the UK, as well as for two giant digital billboards.
The question remains: why do atheists feel the need to resort to such high-profile tactics at all? After all, with campaigns, fundraising endeavours, a ‘High Priest’ in the form of Richard Dawkins and now holiday camps for children, aren’t they simply turning into a parody of the organised religions they so sneer at?
This is a point not lost on the Church of England, which accuses Dawkins and his followers of aping religious traditions, in particular with regards to the children’s camp.
‘We would defend the right for anyone to set up an event like this, as long as the young people are happy to attend,’ says a Church of England spokesman.
‘But in his imitation of the type of youth events that religious groups have been running for years, Dawkins makes atheism look even more like the thing he is rallying against.’
So just where did Camp Quest originate? And does it encourage children to stick two fingers up at religion?
It was the brainchild of an American, Edwin Kagin, 68, who with his wife, Helen, held the first Camp Quest in 1996. An atheist lawyer from Kentucky, Kagin was angry about a case involving the Scouts, who had denied admission to a child on the basis that he was an atheist.
‘The Scouts have been taken over in the U.S. by fundamentalist Christians, specifically the Mormons,’ said Kagin. ‘I wanted to give non-believers a chance.’
Kagin says his most uplifting moment in running the camps – which take place at six sites across the U.S. – was when an 11-year-old girl told him that she had learned ‘it is OK not to believe in God’.
‘I found that so moving,’ he said. ‘She had never before known that. It strengthens these children. This is the first time they’ve been able to talk about not believing. Some are so relieved they cry.’
So, back in Somerset, what of the young people attending the camp?
Among them are India Jago, 12, and her brother, Peter, 11, from Basingstoke, Hampshire.
They have previously been on Scout and Guide camping trips, and their father, Crispian Jago, an IT consultant, believes the experience will enrich his children.
He says: ‘I’m very keen on not indoctrinating them with religion or creeds. I would rather equip them with the tools to learn how to think, not what to think. I want my children to be open-minded, but not so open-minded their brains fall out.
‘I would be equally happy to send them on a general summer camp purely for the physical activities – as long as I knew there was no hidden religious agenda.
‘If we lived in a world where ancient myths were not afforded such reverence, then I would concede that specific non-religious camps would not be needed. Sadly we do not yet live in such a world.’
Mr Jago also hopes his children will learn some ‘basic logical philosophy and critical thinking skills – of which I have seen little evidence in their school work’.
For his part, Richard Dawkins is adamant he does not wish to force atheism on children, and points out he has not played a significant role in the camp beyond making a modest financial contribution.
He says: ‘One of my dominant motivations is an abhorrence of childhood indoctrination, of atheism just as much as of religion.’
Nevertheless, the camp is already proving controversial, not least in its implicit criticism of other faith-based children’s camps.
Jim Hammett, chief executive of Christian Camping International, says 50,000 young people a year enjoy a Christian summer camp.
‘Despite comments to the contrary, they are not indoctrinated,’ he says. ‘They are presented with Biblical material that they can make their own minds up about and decide whether it is something they wish to consider further.
‘There is no brainwashing. Those who don’t want to hear about a loving, caring God can choose to go to an atheist camp if they wish.’
For the Jago children, such debate remains somewhat academic. They are more interested in the prospect of spending five nights under the stars. Their father says: ‘India and Peter are not particularly interested in atheism, they are primarily interested in the fun of camping, and in getting away from us.’
There is, however, one final irony. Camp Quest founder Edwin Kagin has a son who not only grew up to reject his father’s philosophy, but has become a Born Again Christian minister. He has banned his own eight-year-old son from attending any of the Camp Quest gatherings.
A salutary lesson, perhaps, for any British parents wishing to impose their own views on their children.
