Christopher Hitchens, the commentator, journalist, and most recently author of a book on atheism (God is Not Great: How Religion Poisons Everything) has a brother, Peter Hitchens, also a journalist and author, and member of the Church of England. In a recent article, Peter writes:
Am I my brother’s reviewer? A word of explanation is needed here. Some
of you may know that I have a brother, Christopher, who disagrees with
me about almost everything.
Some of those who read his books and articles also know that I
exist, though they often dislike me if so. But in general we inhabit
separate worlds – in more ways than one.
He is of the Left, lives in the United States and recently became
an American citizen. I am of the Right and, after some years in Russia
and America, live in the heart of England.
Occasionally we clash in public.
Peter Hitchens describes their upbringing and then says,
Christopher is an atheist. I am a believer.
He once said in public: "The real difference between Peter and myself is the belief in the supernatural. I’m a materialist and he attributes his presence here to a divine
plan. I can’t stand anyone who believes in God, who invokes the
divinity or who is a person of faith."
I don’t feel the same way. I like atheists and enjoy their company, because they agree with me that religion is important.
Of Christopher's book, Peter says:
I liked and enjoyed this book, and recommend it to anybody who is
interested in the subject. Like everything Christopher writes, it is
often elegant, frequently witty and never stupid or boring.
I also think it is wrong, mostly in the way that it blames faith for so
many bad things and gives it no credit for any of the good it may have
done.
I think it misunderstands religious people and their aims and desires.
And I think it asserts a number of things as true and obvious that are
nothing of the sort.
Concerning Christopher's atheism, Peter sees various problems. For example,
Where is his [Christopher's] certain knowledge of what is right and wrong supposed to have come from?
How can the idea of a conscience have any meaning in a world of random
chance, where in the end we