I was just a high school kid, brash, cocky, know-it-all and obnoxious, so I couldn't resist shooting my mouth off.

The Cuban Old Ladies kaffeklatsch was meeting at my Mom's and the conversation was about the upcoming hurricane season, how we really had no chance, how if Providence chose to crush us there was nothing we could do about it. The usual "There Are Some Things Man Was Not Meant To Know", speech, this time disguised as the "When God decides, we are helpless before his judgement" rap.

I was fed up up. I told them they were talking almost as if they wanted the storms to trash the town, because it would justify their fear and sycophancy before their imaginary God. I pointed out that hurricane hunter planes and radio reports from ships at sea kept us informed on the storms, that science was helping us track them and give warning, and that in the future space pictures and radar would give us even longer-term warning and save lives and property. God had nothing to do with who lived or died in un ciclón, it had much more to do with what century you happened to be born in. I even speculated that some day we might design our buildings and cities so they would be impervious to storm damage, and that we might even learn how to divert or disrupt cyclones with space mirrors or cloud seeding. I'd heard their speeches before: "When cancer gets you, their's nothing the doctors can do, it is all in the hands of God..."

Their response was predictably infuriating. "No, man must not meddle...", "If God wills it...", "Do not tempt Providence..."
And suddenly it struck me. People needed to believe this, they needed this fear and sense of helplessness. It was an attempt to maintain the world of magic, of spirits, of ancient gods. You don't jinx a no-hitter by mentioning the possibility out loud, you knock on wood to keep from precipitating the action you tempted the gods with, you don't claim victory until it the game is over, do so and you may provoke God into punishing you for your pride and arrogance. We humble ourself before the almighty to prevent angering him, we fear he will be insulted if we take care of our own destiny without first pleading for his aid, to assume we no longer need him. If we can prevent being punished by god with the appropriate speech or behavior then we have SOME control over the universe.

But why? The answer came to me. As long as we are helpless and can appeal to a supernatural agent for help, there is still the possibility that he is out there, lookng out for us, available to give us hope, that there is life after death. To give that up, to admit that we face the horrors of existence with only our own resources to aid us, and that we and we alone are responsible for our continued existence, and that eventually, we will die, is almost too much to bear.

I still believe I was right, and I've tried to live my life that way. But I'm older and wiser, now, and I would have been better off keeping my mouth shut.