manhattan.institute Open in urlscan Pro
18.173.205.26  Public Scan

Form analysis
1 forms found in the DOM

https://manhattan.institute/subscribe

<form action="https://manhattan.institute/subscribe" class="newsletter-form">
  <input type="email" name="email" placeholder="Your email">
  <button type="submit">Submit</button>
</form>

Text Content

 * Policy Areas
   * Cities
   * Culture
   * Economics
   * Education
   * Energy
   * Governance
   * Health
   * Public Safety
 * Explore Content
   * Publications
   * Books
   * Multimedia
   * Podcasts
   * Projects
 * Get Involved
   * Events
   * Careers
   * Subscribe
 * About
   * About MI
   * Research Integrity
   * Press & Media
   * Staff
   * Trustees
   * Scholars

City Journal Donate



Search
 * Policy Areas
     Back
   * Cities
   * Culture
   * Economics
   * Education
   * Energy
   * Governance
   * Health
   * Public Safety
 * Explore Content
     Back
   * Publications
   * Books
   * Multimedia
   * Podcasts
   * Projects
 * Get Involved
     Back
   * Events
   * Careers
   * Subscribe
 * About
     Back
   * About MI
   * Research Integrity
   * Press & Media
   * Staff
   * Trustees
   * Scholars

Donate
52 Vanderbilt Avenue
New York, NY 10017
(212) 599-7000
info@manhattan-institute.org
 * 
 * 
 * 
 * 
 * 
 * 

View all Events

View all Events
18
Event Culture Culture & Society


2007 WRISTON LECTURE: KEEPING LIFE HUMAN: SCIENCE, RELIGION, AND THE SOUL

18
Thursday October 2007



SPEAKERS

Leon R. Kass

212-599-7000

communications@manhattan-institute.org


EVENT TRANSCRIPT

Two old-timers, Max and Jake, spend every hour of their retirement imagining and
debating what life is like in the world-to-come. Eager for the answer, they make
a pledge that whoever goes first will somehow find a way quickly to communicate
the news to his surviving friend. After several years of such debates, Max dies,
and Jake promptly takes up his post next to the phone. A day passes, a week, a
month, six months—no Max. But just as Jake is beginning to despair—"perhaps
there is no world-to-come"—the phone rings:

"Hello, Jake? It's Max!"

"Max, where in hell have you been? I've been worried sick."

"I'm really sorry, Jake, but I had a devil of a time getting to a phone."

"Well, never mind, Max, tell me, what's it really like?"

"So I'll tell ya'. First of all, I get a good night's sleep—11, 12 hours. I get
up at sunrise, I stretch a little, I perform my ablutions, I take a walk, I eat
a good breakfast. After breakfast, I relax a bit, take a constitutional, admire
the scenery—before you know it, it's time for lunch. Lunch is delicious, and
very filling, so after lunch I take a little nap. I get up refreshed, I wander
down to the lake for a little dip, I have a little sex, and—before you know
it—it's time for supper. I have a little supper, take a little stroll, enjoy the
sunset, and then I sleep twelve hours."

"Max, Max, it sounds like Miami. It sure don't sound like heaven."

"Heaven? Jake, who said heaven? I'm in Montana. I'm a buffalo."

Keeping life human these days is no laughing matter. Among the contemporary
challenges to our humanity, the deepest ones come from a most unlikely quarter:
our wonderful and humane biomedical science and technology. The powers they are
providing for altering the workings of our bodies and minds are already being
used for purposes beyond therapy, and may soon be used to transform human nature
itself. In our lifetime, the natural relations between sex and procreation,
personal identity and embodiment, and human agency and human achievement have
all been profoundly altered by new biomedical technologies. The Pill. In vitro
fertilization. Surrogate wombs. Cloning. Genetic engineering. Organ swapping.
Mechanical spare parts. Performance-enhancing drugs. Computer implants into
brains. Ritalin for the young, Viagra for the old, Prozac for everyone.
Virtually unnoticed, the train to Huxley's dehumanized Brave New World has
already left the station.

But beneath the weighty ethical concerns raised by these new biotechnologies—a
subject for a different lecture—lies a deeper philosophical challenge: one that
threatens how we think about who and what we are. Scientific ideas and
discoveries about living nature and man, perfectly welcome and harmless in
themselves, are being enlisted to do battle against our traditional religious
and moral teachings, and even our self-understanding as creatures with freedom
and dignity. A quasi-religious faith has sprung up among us—let me call it
"soul-less scientism"—which believes that our new biology, eliminating all
mystery, can give a complete account of human life, giving purely scientific
explanations of human thought, love, creativity, moral judgment, and even why we
believe in God. The threat to our humanity today comes not from the
transmigration of souls in the next life, but from the denial of soul in this
one, not from turning men into buffaloes, but from denying that there is any
real difference between them.

Make no mistake. The stakes in this contest are high: at issue are the moral and
spiritual health of our nation, the continued vitality of science, and our own
self-understanding as human beings and as children of the West. All friends of
human freedom and dignity—including even the atheists among us—must understand
that their own humanity is on the line.

Tonight I wish to offer an overview of the danger and to suggest how it can be
countered: I will first describe the threats scientism poses both to human
self-understanding and to ethics. I will then identify philosophical and
religious resources available for meeting the challenge.

We need first to distinguish the grandiose faith of contemporary scientism from
modern science as such, which began as a more modest venture. Although the
founders of modern science sought certain and useful knowledge, to be gained
using new concepts and methods, they understood that science would never offer
complete and absolute knowledge of the whole of human life—for example, of
thought, feeling, morality, or faith. For they understood, as we tend to forget,
that the rationality of science is but a partial and highly specialized
rationality, concocted for the purpose of gaining only that kind of knowledge
for which it was devised, and applicable to only those aspects of the world that
can be captured by such abstract notions. The peculiar reason of science is not,
nor was meant to be, the natural reason of everyday life and human experience.
Neither is it the reason of philosophy or religious thought.

Thus, science does not seek to know beings or their natures, but only the
regularities of the changes that they undergo. Science seeks to know only how
things work, not what things are and why. Science gives the histories of things,
but not their directions, aspirations, or purposes. Science quantifies selected
external relations of one object to another, but it can say nothing at all about
their inner states of being, not only for human beings but for any living
creature. Science can often predict what will happen if certain perturbations
occur, but it eschews explanations in terms of causes, especially of ultimate
causes.

In a word, our remarkable science of nature has made enormous progress precisely
by its decision to ignore the larger perennial questions about being, cause,
purpose, inwardness, hierarchy, and the goodness or badness of things—questions
that science happily gave over to philosophy, poetry, and religion.

Thus, in cosmology, for example, we have wonderful progress in characterizing
the temporal beginnings as a "big bang" and elaborate calculations to describe
what happened next. But science preserves complete silence regarding the status
quo ante and the ultimate cause. Unlike a normally curious child, cosmologists
do not ask, "What was before the big bang?" or "Why is there something rather
than nothing?" because the answer must be an exasperated "God only knows!"

In genetics, we have the complete DNA sequence of several organisms, including
man, and we are rapidly learning what many of these genes "do." But this
analytic approach cannot tell us how the life of a buffalo differs from that of
a butterfly, or even what accounts for the special unity and active wholeness of
buffaloes or butterflies or the purposive efforts they make to preserve their
own specific integrity.

In neurophysiology, we know vast amounts about the processing of visual stimuli,
their transformation into electrochemical signals, and the mechanisms for
transmitting these signals to the brain. But sight itself we know not through
science but only from the inside, and only because we are not blind. The eyeball
and the brain are material objects, take up space, can be held in the hand; but
neither the capacities of sight and intellect nor the activities of seeing and
thinking take up space or can be held. Although absolutely dependent on material
conditions, they are in their essence immaterial: they are capacities and
activities of soul—hence, not an object of knowledge for a materialist science.

Among many biologists, these important limitations of science are today largely
forgotten, as is the modesty that they should induce. Instead, bioprophets of
scientism, exploiting powerful ideas from genetics, developmental biology,
neuroscience, and evolutionary psychology, issue bold challenges to traditional
understandings of human nature and human dignity. Their faith rests on a new
unified approach to biology and human biology, at once evolutionist,
materialist, determinist, mechanistic, and objectified.

Already Darwinism, in its original version 150 years ago, appeared to challenge
our special standing: how could any being descended from sub-human origins,
rather than created directly by the hand of God, claim to be a higher animal,
never mind a godlike one? Indeed, orthodox evolutionary theory even denies that
animals should be called "higher" or "lower," rather than just more or less
complex: since all animals are finally in the same business-individual survival,
for the sake of perpetuating their genes-the apparent differences among them
are, at bottom, merely more or less complicated ways of getting the same job
done.

The new materialistic explanations of vital, even psychic, events leave no room
for soul, understood as life's animating principle. Genes are said to determine
temperament and character. Mechanistic accounts of brain functions seem to do
away with the need to speak of human freedom and purposiveness. Brain imaging
studies claim to explain how we make moral judgments. A fully exterior account
of our behavior—the grail of neuroscience—diminishes the significance of our
felt inwardness. Feeling, passion, awareness, imagination, desire, love, hate,
and thought are, scientifically speaking, merely "brain events." There are even
reports of a "God module" in the brain, whose activity is thought to explain
religious or mystical experiences.

Never mind "created in the image of God": what elevated humanistic view of human
life or human goodness is defensible against the belief, trumpeted by biology's
most public and prophetic voices, that man is just a collection of molecules, an
accident on the stage of evolution, a freakish speck of mind in a mindless
universe, fundamentally no different from other living things? What chance have
our treasured ideas of freedom and dignity against the reductive notion of "the
selfish gene," or the belief that DNA is the essence of life, or the teaching
that all human behavior and our rich inner life are rendered intelligible only
in terms of neurochemistry and their contributions to reproductive success?

Many of our leading scientists and intellectuals, truth to tell, are eager to
dethrone traditional understandings of man's special place in the whole, and use
every available opportunity to do battle. For example, consider how the
luminaries of the International Academy of Humanism-including biologists Francis
Crick and E. O. Wilson and humanists Isaiah Berlin and Kurt Vonnegut—chose to
defend human cloning:

What moral issues would human cloning raise? Some world religions teach that
human beings are fundamentally different from other mammals—that humans have
been imbued by a deity with immortal souls, giving them a value that cannot be
compared to that of other living things. Human nature is held to be unique and
sacred. Scientific advances which pose a perceived risk of altering this
"nature" are angrily opposed. . . . As far as the scientific enterprise can
determine, [however] . . . [h]uman capabilities appear to differ in degree, not
in kind, from those found among the higher animals. Humanity's rich repertoire
of thoughts, feelings, aspirations, and hopes seems to arise from
electrochemical brain processes, not from an immaterial soul that operates in
ways no instrument can discover. . . . Views of human nature rooted in
humanity's tribal past ought not to be our primary criterion for making moral
decisions about cloning. . . . The potential benefits of cloning may be so
immense that it would be a tragedy if ancient theological scruples should lead
to a Luddite rejection of cloning.

In order to justify ongoing research, these "humanists" are willing to shed not
only traditional religious views but any view of human distinctiveness and
special dignity, their own included. They fail to see that the scientific view
of man they celebrate does more than insult our vanity. It undermines our
self-conception as free, thoughtful, and responsible beings, worthy of respect
because we alone among the animals have minds and hearts that aim far higher
than the mere perpetuation of our genes.

The problem, to repeat, lies not so much with the scientific findings themselves
but with the shallow philosophy that recognizes no truths but these. Here, for
example, is evolutionary psychologist and popularizer Stephen Pinker railing
against any appeal to the human soul:

Unfortunately for that theory, brain science has shown that the mind is what the
brain does. The supposedly immaterial soul can be bisected with a knife, altered
by chemicals, turned on or off by electricity, and extinguished by a sharp blow
or a lack of oxygen. Centuries ago it was unwise to ground morality on the dogma
that the earth sat at the center of the universe. It is just as unwise today to
ground it on dogmas about souls endowed by God.

Without irony, Pinker, a psychologist, denies the existence of the psyche. Yet
he is ignorant of the fact that "soul" need not be conceived as a "ghost in the
machine" or as a separate "thing" that survives the body, but can be understood
instead as the integrated powers of the naturally organic body—the ground and
source of awareness, appetite, and action. He does not understand that the vital
powers of an organism do not reside in the materials of the organism but emerge
only when the materials are formed and organized in a particular way; he does
not under-stand that the empowering organization of materials-the vital form or
soul—is not itself material.

There is, of course, nothing novel about reductionism, materialism, and
determinism of the kind displayed here; these are doctrines with which Socrates
contended long ago. What is new is that these philosophies seem to be vindicated
by scientific advance. Here, in consequence, would be the most pernicious result
of the new biology—more dehumanizing than any actual manipulation or technique,
present or future: the erosion, perhaps the final erosion, of the idea of man as
noble, dignified, precious, or godlike, and its replacement with a view of man,
no less than of nature, as mere raw material for manipulation and
homogenization.

The new scientism not only banishes soul from its account of life. It soullessly
neglects the ethical and spiritual aspects of the human animal. For we alone
among the animals go in for ethicizing, for concerning ourselves with how to
live. We alone among the animals ask not only "What can I know?" but also, "What
ought I do?" and "What may I hope?" Science, notwithstanding its great gifts to
human life in the form of greater comfort and safety, is utterly unhelpful in
satisfying these great longings of the human soul.

Science, by design, is notoriously morally neutral, silent on the distinction
between better and worse, right and wrong, the noble and the base. And although
scientists hope that the uses that will be made of their findings will be, as
Francis Bacon prophesied, governed in charity, science can do nothing to insure
that result. It can offer no standards to guide the use of the awesome powers it
places in human hands. Though it seeks universal knowledge, it has no answer to
moral relativism. It knows not what charity is, what charity requires, or even
whether and why it is good. What, then, will remain for us, morally and
spiritually, should soul-less scientism succeed in its efforts to overthrow our
traditional religions, our inherited views of human life, and the moral
teachings that depend on them?

Nowhere will this deficiency be more readily felt than with regard to the
proposed uses of biotechnical power for purposes beyond the cure of disease and
the relief of suffering. We are promised better children, superior performance,
ageless bodies, and happy souls—all with the help of the biotechnologies of
"enhancement." Bioprophets tell us that we are en route to a new stage of
evolution, to the creation of a post-human society, a society based on science
and built by technology, a society in which traditional teachings about human
nature will be passè and religious teachings about how to live will be
irrelevant.

But what will guide this evolution? How do we know whether any of these
so-called enhancements is in fact an improvement? Why ought any human being
embrace a post-human future? Scientism has no answers to these critical moral
questions. Deaf to nature, to God, and even to moral reason, it can offer no
standards for judging change to be progress—or for judging anything else.
Instead, it tacitly preaches its own version of faith, hope, and charity: faith
in the goodness of scientific progress, hope in the promise of overcoming our
biological limitations, charity in promising everyone ultimate relief from, and
transcendence of, the human condition. No religious faith rests on flimsier
ground.

So this is our peculiar moral and religious crisis. We are in turbulent seas
without a landmark precisely because we adhere more and more to a view of human
life that both gives us enormous power and that, at the same time, denies every
possibility of non-arbitrary standards for guiding its use. Though well
equipped, we know not who we are or where we are going. Engineering the engineer
as well as the engine, we race our train we know not where.

Will we be able to combat the dehumanizing teachings and moral bankruptcy of
soulless scientism? As a cultural matter, it is difficult to predict. But we are
not intellectually or spiritually resourceless. On the contrary, we have good
philosophical arguments to rebut the soul-less teachings of scientism and
ennobling scriptural truths to nourish the human soul. Together, they make
possible a human defense of the human. Let me offer a few elements of such a
defense, starting on the philosophical side.

First, despite what scientism says, our evolutionary origins do not refute the
truth of our human distinctiveness. The history of how we came to be is no
substitute for knowing directly the being that has come. To know man, we must
study him as he is and through what he does, not how he got to be this way. For
understanding our nature-what we are-or our standing, it matters not whether our
origin was from the primordial slime or from the hand of a creator God: even
with monkeys for ancestors, what has emerged is more than monkey business.

Second, regarding our inwardness, freedom, and purposiveness, we must repair to
our inside knowledge. For even if scientists were to "prove" to their
satisfaction that inwardness, consciousness, and human will or purposive
intention were all illusory-at best, epiphenomena of brain events—or that what
we call loving and wishing and thinking are merely electrochemical
transformations of brain substance, we should proceed to ignore them. And for
good reason. Life's self-revelatory testimony to the living, regarding its own
vital activity, is more immediate, compelling, and trustworthy than are the
abstracted explanations that evaporate lived experience by identifying it with
some correlated bodily event. The most unsophisticated child knows red and blue
more reliably than a blind physicist with his spectrometers. And anyone who has
ever loved knows that love cannot be reduced to neurotransmitters.

Third, truth and error, no less than human freedom and dignity, become empty
notions when the soul is reduced to chemicals. Even science itself becomes
impossible, because the very possibility of science depends on the immateriality
of thought and on the mind's independence from the bombardment of matter.
Otherwise, there is no truth, there is only "it seems to me." Not only the
possibility for recognizing truth and error, but also the reasons for doing
science rest on a picture of human freedom and dignity that science itself
cannot recognize. Wonder, curiosity, a wish not to be self-deceived, and a
spirit of philanthropy are the sine qua non of the modern scientific enterprise.
They are hallmarks of the living human soul, not of the anatomized brain.

A philosophical critique of scientism may give us back our souls and restore the
human difference. But philosophy alone cannot answer the longings of our soul or
supply its quest for meaning. For such nourishment, we must turn to other
sources, including especially the Bible. The Bible offers a profound teaching on
human nature, but, unlike science, it locates that teaching in relation to the
deepest human longings and concerns. For various reasons, we should turn first
to the Bible's majestic beginning, the story of the creation in Genesis 1—which,
not surprisingly, is the chief target of our soulless scientism. Elsewhere I
have argued that the teachings of Genesis 1 are in fact untouched by the
scientific findings that allegedly make them "plumb unbelievable." For Genesis 1
is not a freestanding historical or scientific account of what happened and how,
but rather an awe-inspiring prelude to a lengthy and comprehensive teaching
about how we are to live. The Bible addresses us not as detached, rational
observers moved primarily by curiosity, but as existentially engaged human
beings who need first and foremost to make sense of their world and their task
within it. The first human question is not "How did this come-into-being?" or
"How does it work?" The first human question is "What does all this mean?" and
(especially) "What am I to do here?"

The specific claims of the biblical account of creation begin to nourish the
soul's deep longings for answers to these questions. The world that you see
around you, you human being, is orderly and intelligible, an articulated whole
comprising distinct kinds. The order of the world is as rational as the speech
that you use to describe it and that, right before your (reading) eyes, summoned
it into being. Most importantly, this intelligible order of creatures means
mainly to demonstrate that, contrary to the belief of uninstructed human
experience, the sun, the moon, and the stars are not divine, despite their
sempiternal beauty and power and their majestic perfect motion. Moreover, being
is hierarchic, and man is the highest of the creatures, higher than the heavens.
Man alone is a being that is in the image of God.

What does this mean? And can it be true? In the course of recounting His
creation, Genesis 1 introduces us to God's activities and powers: (1) God
speaks, commands, names, blesses, and hallows; (2) God makes and makes freely;
(3) God looks at and beholds the world; (4) God is concerned with the goodness
of things; (5) God addresses solicitously other living creatures and provides
for their sustenance. In short: God exercises speech and reason, freedom in
doing and making, and the powers of contemplation, judgment, and care.

Doubters may wonder whether this is truly the case about God—after all, it is
only on biblical authority that we regard God as possessing these powers and
activities. But it is indubitably clear—even to atheists—that we human beings
have them, and that they lift us above the plane of a merely animal existence.
Human beings, alone among the creatures, speak, plan, create, contemplate, and
judge. Human beings, alone among the creatures, can articulate a future goal and
use that plan to guide them in bringing it into being by their own purposive
conduct. Human beings, alone among the creatures, can think about the whole,
marvel at its many-splendored forms, wonder about its beginning, and feel awe in
beholding its grandeur and in pondering the mystery of its source.

Please note: These self-evident truths do not rest on biblical authority.
Rather, the biblical text enables us to confirm them by an act of
self-reflection. Our reading of this text, addressable and intelligible only to
us human beings, and our responses to it, possible only for us human beings,
provide all the proof we need to confirm the text's assertion of our superior
standing. This is not anthropocentric prejudice, but cosmological truth. And
nothing we shall ever learn from science about how we came to be this way could
ever make it false.

In addition to holding up a mirror in which we see reflected our special
standing in the world, Genesis 1 teaches truly the bounty of the universe and
its hospitality in supporting terrestrial life. Moreover, we have it on the
highest authority that the whole-the being of all that is-is "very good":

And God saw every thing that He had made, and, behold, it was very good. (Gen.
1:31)

The Bible here teaches a truth that cannot be known by science, even as it is
the basis of the very possibility of science—and of everything else we esteem.
For it truly is very good that there is something rather than nothing. It truly
is very good that this something is intelligibly ordered rather than dark and
chaotic. It truly is very good that the whole contains a being who can not only
discern the intelligible order but who can recognize that "it is very good"—who
can appreciate that there is something rather than nothing and that he exists
with the reflexive capacity to celebrate these facts with the mysterious source
of being itself. As Abraham Joshua Heschel put it:

The biblical words about the genesis of heaven and earth are not words of
information but words of appreciation. The story of creation is not a
description of how the world came into being but a song about the glory of the
world's having come into being. "And God saw that it was good."

There is more. The purpose of the song is not only to celebrate. It is also to
summon us to awe and attention. For just as the world as created is a world
summoned into existence under command, so to be a human being in that world is
to live in search of a summons. It is to recognize, first of all, that we are
here not by choice or on account of merit, but as an undeserved gift from powers
not at our disposal. It is to feel the need to justify that gift, to make
something out of our indebtedness for the opportunity of existence. It is to
stand in the world not only in awe of the world's existence but under an
obligation to answer a call to a worthy life, a life of meaning, a life that
does honor to the divine-likeness with which our otherwise animal existence has
been—no thanks to us—endowed. It is explicitly to feel the need to find a way of
life for which we should be pleased to answer at the bar of justice when our
course is run, in order to vindicate the blessed opportunity and the
moral-spiritual challenge that is the true essence of being human.

The first chapter of Genesis—like no work of science, no matter how elegant or
profound—invites us to hearken to a transcendent voice. It answers to the human
need to know not only how the world works but also what we are to do here. It is
the beginning of a Bible-length response to the human longing for meaning and
whole-hearted existence. The truths it bespeaks are more than cognitive. They
point away from mere truths of belief to the truths of life in action—of song
and praise and ritual, of love and procreation and civic life, of responsible
deeds in answering the call to righteousness, holiness, and love of neighbor.
Such truths speak more deeply and permanently to the souls of men than any mere
doctrine, whether of science or even of faith. As long as we understand our
great religions as the embodiments of such truths, we friends of religion will
have nothing to fear from science, and we friends of science who are still in
touch with our humanity will have nothing to fear from religion.

Like Max and Jake, I have no knowledge about the world to come. Unlike Max and
Jake, I have never given it more than a moment's thought. For, whatever might be
the fate of our souls when act five is over, it is the pursuit of their
well-being here and now, while the show is still running, that is in my opinion
the crucial human task—yesterday, today, always. Regarding this truth and this
work, no soul-less teachings of science or scientism should ever leave us
buffaloed.

212-599-7000

communications@manhattan-institute.org





FURTHER READING

More Culture publications
Commentary Culture Culture & Society
May 14 2024
The Replication Conundrum
By Theodore Dalrymple Read More
Press Release Culture Culture & Society
May 14 2024
LATE ADMISSIONS: CONFESSIONS OF A BLACK CONSERVATIVE
Read More
Commentary Culture Culture & Society
May 11 2024
Douglas Murray: What It Means to Choose Life
By Douglas Murray Read More
 * Terms of Use
 * Privacy Policy
 * Subscribe

Copyright © 2024 Manhattan Institute for Policy Research, Inc. All rights
reserved.

52 Vanderbilt Avenue
New York, NY 10017

(212) 599-7000
 * 
 * 
 * 
 * 
 * 
 * 

Signup for our Newsletter
Submit
 * Policy Areas
   * Cities
   * Culture
   * Economics
   * Education
   * Energy
   * Governance
   * Health
   * Public Safety
 * Explore Content
   * Publications
   * Books
   * Multimedia
   * Podcasts
   * Projects
 * Get Involved
   * Events
   * Careers
   * Subscribe
 * About
   * About MI
   * Scholars
   * Research Integrity
   * Contact us
   * Press & Media

 * Terms of Use
 * Privacy Policy
 * Subscribe

Copyright © 2024 Manhattan Institute for Policy Research, Inc. All rights
reserved.

EIN #13-2912529

- - -
-
- - -
-


- -

-

By - Read time - mins Read More
- - - -
-
- -
By - Read time - mins Read More

- -
01
January 1970
Event - -
Event - -
01 January 1970


- -

01
January 1970
01 01 January 1970
Event -
Jan 01 1970
- -
Interview -
-
-
- - -
-
- - -
Latest Podcast - -
-

- - -
- - -
-
-

-

-


-

By -