Before the Internet in about 50 years of life I didn't know any atheist and maybe met a couple that would cop to being an atheist. Now I get to interact with dozens of people who have no problem with being atheist and are very good at talking about the why and how of it. I went a long time before I was willing to even admit to myself that I was an atheist, I held out as an agnostic. But being able to talk to others on the science forums made all the difference in the world to me. I absolutely have no doubts about what I believe now and I have good responses for those that want to challenge me. I owe that confidence to the Internet.
I never had that problem because I didn't know there was anything else to be. I didn't know there was a word "atheist" and I didn't know what religion was until I was about seven. My parents were second-generation atheists and religion is a topic that simply never came up in conversation at home. Why would it?
Except for the one second-grader who tried to explain that there's this guy named "God" who lives up in the sky and watches everything we do and can make lightning--whom I rewarded by rolling on the ground in laughter after hearing such a creative story and I couldn't understand why he seemed upset by my reaction--none of my friends in grade school ever talked about religion so I still had no idea what it was all about. Certainly they talked about
church and all the fun stuff they did at the picnics and everything, but never about God and Jesus and those things.
My mother had briefly explained religion when I asked her why that little boy didn't like me laughing at him, but about all her explanation did was diminish my respect for humanity and turn me into a cynic. "You're saying that, unlike Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy, parents
never tell their children the truth about God, so they grow up still believing it? But I figured out the truth about the Tooth Fairy myself. Why aren't
grownups smart enough to figure out the truth about God?" She just got this very sad look on her face and didn't know what to say.
In high school there finally were some kids who took their religion seriously and talked about it, but there were also several other atheists so I at last began to understand the issue in a little more detail. I even had a Catholic girlfriend--to my mother's chagrin, since her parents had left Bohemia (we call it the Czech Republic now because that's so much easier to spell and pronounce) in the 1890s precisely to get out from under the thumb of the Catholic church. I tell you, back in the 1950s these weighty national arguments about religion were simply not happening. We all managed to get along somehow, even if we were laughing behind each other's back.
Then of course I went to Caltech, where atheists were a majority. Soon the 1960s hit (what we call "the sixties" was really 1963-1975, from the first Beatles song to the withdrawal from Vietnam) and atheism became fashionable. Those same Beatles declared "We're more popular than Jesus now," and it didn't harm their career at all.
Religion didn't come back into vogue until the late 1970s. All the Baby Boomers were growing up and feeling ashamed of the sex and drugs and rock'n'roll. One thing about the Boomers: they assumed that they were the first and only people who did what they did. They were really weak on history and had no idea what was going on during the Roaring Twenties.
So they joined these little storefront Pentecostal and Charismatic churches to get in touch with "real" Christianity. The Latino, Redneck and Afro-American preachers and their working-class congregations were so delighted to have social workers, engineers and computer programmers kicking into the collection plate every Sunday that they welcomed them like they were Jesus themselves.
This was when I discovered just how much the hippies had gotten out of those college educations. Their ignorance was not limited to history! One Monday morning this gal who worked for me (a real hippie, she even legally changed her name so it now ends in hyphen-O) came skipping into my office and said, "I learned the most wonderful thing in church yesterday morning. The preacher told us that six thousand years ago there was peace all over the planet, even among the animals. You see, lions and tigers weren't predators then so there was no killing. They just ate leaves and flowers."
I said, "Wow, they must have looked a lot different than they do today. Herbivores require an enormous gut to host the bacterial culture they've got to have in order to digest the cellulose in leaves and flowers. Did he have any pictures? I'd like to see one!" She just looked at me like my dog does when I ask if anybody knows why there's a pile of poop on the kitchen floor.