Please note that the views I held and thoughts I had during the time immediately after my deconversion are not necessarily ones I have right now. It would be boring and annoying to constantly say this in the post, so here is your advance disclaimer!
When I tell people I switched from wanting to do astrophysics to wanting to prevent death upon becoming an atheist, they’re usually not too surprised or confused. Sometimes they are, and I might make a blog post on that pipeline later, but most of the time they understand, even if they disagree about ending death being a good thing and even if they knew just how obsessed I was with astrophysics or becoming an astrophysicist.
Something that may be more surprising or confusing is my almost total evaporation of fandom behaviour. Back when I was religious, at any given time I was usually into a fandom (more specifically, it was usually a particular character within whichever fandom), and this would be the default topic my mind would drift to in the car, whilst showering, etc. Each fandom phase varied in intensity and length, ranging from obsessively writing pages of fanfiction for 2 months to a 2-week passing Pinterest fancy.
(Those pages of fanfiction were, of course, kept to myself and never published — what if someone decided to consume the content because of my writing and heard the background music of the show? Then their sins would be forever upon my head! (Music is sinful in Islam.) If I described a girl not wearing a headscarf in mixed company, clearly I was seeding sin amongst the populace. And if I dared hint at a romance? Nay, I shan’t even go there. The only reason I was okay writing those works in the first place is that you don’t get punished for thoughtcrime in Islam (how merciful!) and I reasoned to myself that if I never showed anyone the documents, it was barely more than an extension of my thoughts, so Allah probably doesn’t mind too much.)
You could almost never catch me in a phase of not having a favourite character on rotation. This was the top idea in my mind at almost any given time I wasn’t doing something mentally taxing or talking to people. I don’t think it was unhealthy per se — I knew people who would only ever read fanfiction and it deeply got in the way of their executive function, and I wasn’t like that (although I’m glad to be rid of the habit — more on that later). But it was many hours of almost every day, and felt very natural.
Suddenly, everything is on fire. Everyone I know and love, including myself, is going to die, along with everyone else, with no heaven awaiting us. People who suffer horrible lives get no compensation. There are no magic rules holding back existential threats to humanity, such as superintelligent AI. Time to work, damn it! Who cares about fandoms anymore? Who cares about studying distant galaxies when people are starving to permanent death? We can worry about those after we put out all the fires![1]
This emergency mode meant I was too terrified to do anything but work, cry, sleep, or talk to people. I was no longer in the habit of opening (memetic hazard warning) Archive of Our Own. I was no longer opening Pinterest to look at fanart or fandom memes — the very idea of it was distasteful. When I was travelling or doing the few necessary chores I really couldn’t drop, my mind was on my impending death, or optimising my work, or the people currently starving or being bombed as I stood there doing my dishes.
This emergency mode slowly faded over the months, but left a person with very different habits behind. Even if, at X point in time, I’m equally relaxed or happy as I may have been a year ago, that does not mean I am equally as likely to daydream about Arcane, because the day-to-day chain of that was broken for long enough. The habit has been lost, including the thought-habit. Contrast this with a stressful week or two in Sixth Form, where school work combined with family life may have been particularly difficult. Maybe I’d be really upset, maybe I wouldn’t even do any fandom activities (including thinking about my favourite characters) for a few days, but after the period is over I’d naturally go back to it, just like you might naturally get back into biking every summer. Sometimes I would even read fanfiction during stressful periods as a relaxing, absorbing activity.
The point I’m making is deconversion was massive enough to plunge me into a 24/7 mindset shift, one that lasted long enough that once the emergency mode wore off, the chains of habits and thought were broken, even though I may, at any given moment, be equally as open to a fun activity as I was before. I may be feeling like I want to do something lighthearted and interesting, and perhaps those exact feelings would have triggered opening Ao3 a year ago, and now instead triggers listening to a podcast (for example). I think the two requirements are: it has to be huge enough to be on your mind 24/7 so you’re not engaging in the habit (whether it’s a thought-habit or otherwise); it has to be long enough to break/overwrite the habit chains permanently. (I don’t know anything about neuroscience.)
I suspect something similar may happen to other people who go through massive life changes. I could imagine someone having a child, having zero time to play video games for many months, then finding that they’ve lost the habit or desire in that time once they have free time again, and they decide to do something else instead. The parent could get back into gaming, just like I could get back into fandoms if I wanted to, but they could easily choose not to.
I am pretty happy about this change to be honest! One reason is this concept of the top idea in your mind. I remember reading this back when I was religious and thinking, “Aghhh I see his point but my characterssss I loveee my daydreams!” At the same time, I would sometimes get frustrated with myself and a little embarrassed for obsessing over fictional scientists instead of spending those hours obsessing over science instead.
And here I am! I still enjoy films on occasion, I read fiction sometimes, I enjoy a good hour of Stellaris as much as the next optimisation nerd, but when I’m not consuming the content, I’m not daydreaming extensively about it! I never would have guessed deconversion would be the way though... If anything, I would have guessed that would lead to me publishing fanfiction due to not feeling guilty for it, and being able to draw my favourite characters without scribbling over the eyes. (Creating idols is haram, don’t you know? Drawing Hiccup and Toothless with all their facial features is sinful.)
Maybe the hours saved not obsessing over fictional scientists are not always spent obsessing over “pure science” instead, but they’re spent obsessing over what I think is important. My actual hours of work have increased a bit, but more than that — my top ideas are important ones, and whatever I’m casually musing over at any given time is probably something I actually care about. I’m not only working when I’m truly working — my shower thoughts are more often good and useful ones, less often me going over Andalite culture for the fiftieth time.
Thanks for this post, I also tend to get totally obsessed with fandom and the periods in which I'm not are quite valuable. Unfortunately/fortunately those periods are only when I'm writing original works
[Crossposted from my blog, BlueprintingHeaven.]
Please note that the views I held and thoughts I had during the time immediately after my deconversion are not necessarily ones I have right now. It would be boring and annoying to constantly say this in the post, so here is your advance disclaimer!
When I tell people I switched from wanting to do astrophysics to wanting to prevent death upon becoming an atheist, they’re usually not too surprised or confused. Sometimes they are, and I might make a blog post on that pipeline later, but most of the time they understand, even if they disagree about ending death being a good thing and even if they knew just how obsessed I was with astrophysics or becoming an astrophysicist.
Something that may be more surprising or confusing is my almost total evaporation of fandom behaviour. Back when I was religious, at any given time I was usually into a fandom (more specifically, it was usually a particular character within whichever fandom), and this would be the default topic my mind would drift to in the car, whilst showering, etc. Each fandom phase varied in intensity and length, ranging from obsessively writing pages of fanfiction for 2 months to a 2-week passing Pinterest fancy.
(Those pages of fanfiction were, of course, kept to myself and never published — what if someone decided to consume the content because of my writing and heard the background music of the show? Then their sins would be forever upon my head! (Music is sinful in Islam.) If I described a girl not wearing a headscarf in mixed company, clearly I was seeding sin amongst the populace. And if I dared hint at a romance? Nay, I shan’t even go there. The only reason I was okay writing those works in the first place is that you don’t get punished for thoughtcrime in Islam (how merciful!) and I reasoned to myself that if I never showed anyone the documents, it was barely more than an extension of my thoughts, so Allah probably doesn’t mind too much.)
You could almost never catch me in a phase of not having a favourite character on rotation. This was the top idea in my mind at almost any given time I wasn’t doing something mentally taxing or talking to people. I don’t think it was unhealthy per se — I knew people who would only ever read fanfiction and it deeply got in the way of their executive function, and I wasn’t like that (although I’m glad to be rid of the habit — more on that later). But it was many hours of almost every day, and felt very natural.
In comes Deconversion Has Been a Real Productivity-Booster.
Suddenly, everything is on fire. Everyone I know and love, including myself, is going to die, along with everyone else, with no heaven awaiting us. People who suffer horrible lives get no compensation. There are no magic rules holding back existential threats to humanity, such as superintelligent AI. Time to work, damn it! Who cares about fandoms anymore? Who cares about studying distant galaxies when people are starving to permanent death? We can worry about those after we put out all the fires![1]
This emergency mode meant I was too terrified to do anything but work, cry, sleep, or talk to people. I was no longer in the habit of opening (memetic hazard warning) Archive of Our Own. I was no longer opening Pinterest to look at fanart or fandom memes — the very idea of it was distasteful. When I was travelling or doing the few necessary chores I really couldn’t drop, my mind was on my impending death, or optimising my work, or the people currently starving or being bombed as I stood there doing my dishes.
This emergency mode slowly faded over the months, but left a person with very different habits behind. Even if, at X point in time, I’m equally relaxed or happy as I may have been a year ago, that does not mean I am equally as likely to daydream about Arcane, because the day-to-day chain of that was broken for long enough. The habit has been lost, including the thought-habit. Contrast this with a stressful week or two in Sixth Form, where school work combined with family life may have been particularly difficult. Maybe I’d be really upset, maybe I wouldn’t even do any fandom activities (including thinking about my favourite characters) for a few days, but after the period is over I’d naturally go back to it, just like you might naturally get back into biking every summer. Sometimes I would even read fanfiction during stressful periods as a relaxing, absorbing activity.
The point I’m making is deconversion was massive enough to plunge me into a 24/7 mindset shift, one that lasted long enough that once the emergency mode wore off, the chains of habits and thought were broken, even though I may, at any given moment, be equally as open to a fun activity as I was before. I may be feeling like I want to do something lighthearted and interesting, and perhaps those exact feelings would have triggered opening Ao3 a year ago, and now instead triggers listening to a podcast (for example). I think the two requirements are: it has to be huge enough to be on your mind 24/7 so you’re not engaging in the habit (whether it’s a thought-habit or otherwise); it has to be long enough to break/overwrite the habit chains permanently. (I don’t know anything about neuroscience.)
I suspect something similar may happen to other people who go through massive life changes. I could imagine someone having a child, having zero time to play video games for many months, then finding that they’ve lost the habit or desire in that time once they have free time again, and they decide to do something else instead. The parent could get back into gaming, just like I could get back into fandoms if I wanted to, but they could easily choose not to.
I am pretty happy about this change to be honest! One reason is this concept of the top idea in your mind. I remember reading this back when I was religious and thinking, “Aghhh I see his point but my characterssss I loveee my daydreams!” At the same time, I would sometimes get frustrated with myself and a little embarrassed for obsessing over fictional scientists instead of spending those hours obsessing over science instead.
And here I am! I still enjoy films on occasion, I read fiction sometimes, I enjoy a good hour of Stellaris as much as the next optimisation nerd, but when I’m not consuming the content, I’m not daydreaming extensively about it! I never would have guessed deconversion would be the way though... If anything, I would have guessed that would lead to me publishing fanfiction due to not feeling guilty for it, and being able to draw my favourite characters without scribbling over the eyes. (Creating idols is haram, don’t you know? Drawing Hiccup and Toothless with all their facial features is sinful.)
Maybe the hours saved not obsessing over fictional scientists are not always spent obsessing over “pure science” instead, but they’re spent obsessing over what I think is important. My actual hours of work have increased a bit, but more than that — my top ideas are important ones, and whatever I’m casually musing over at any given time is probably something I actually care about. I’m not only working when I’m truly working — my shower thoughts are more often good and useful ones, less often me going over Andalite culture for the fiftieth time.
1
I do not currently hold this exact viewpoint, and I never thought that all astrophysicists should drop their work.