FOR the first time since the sixth century, people in the UK who say that they have no religion outnumber declared Christians (News, 2 December 2022).
Yet, much to the surprise of those who condemn all forms of religious faith as nothing but a load of superstitious nonsense, this has not heralded the dawn of a new age of reason. On the contrary, the decline of mainstream, particularly Christian, religious affiliation in the West has made room for a proliferation of alternative and, arguably, irrational beliefs to fill the void.
Writing in The Times recently, James Marriott bemoaned that, “Instead of a second Enlightenment we have something like the opposite, a plague of secular fools: conspiracy theorists, astrology nuts, anti-vaccination fanatics, biology-deniers, climate-sceptics, homeopaths, believers in ‘personal truth’ and fake news addicts. We have exchanged one age of unreason for another” (Quotes, 11 October).
It is hard to imagine this article, written by an atheist, being published in a national broadsheet even just a few years ago. Today, however, the observations that Marriott offers are almost commonplace. This is certainly an interesting development, but one that, I hope, will be less surprising to believers than the evidently bewildered unbelievers.
Marriott is essentially correct in his appraisal, even if some might want to edit, or perhaps expand, his checklist of contemporary superstitions: for example, is informed questioning of the practical feasibility of certain net-zero policies really more irrational than throwing soup at an oil painting? He has his own biases — and beliefs — as we all have. Having presented such compelling evidence for the new irrationalism, however, he seems unable to explain why this might be so.
THE explanation is, in fact, quite simple. Human beings are basically religious animals, just as we are also artistic, scientific, and political animals. We have spiritual needs, relating to meaning and value, just as we have material needs, relating to food and shelter. What we call our “religion” is the set of beliefs and practices which provides us with a meaning-giving narrative through which we view the world, and by which we order our lives in relation to the other people with whom we share that world.
Whether we call it a “religion” or not, if we inhabit a story that shapes who we are and the values that we hold, then we are — in functional terms, at least — “religious”. So, the fact that people seek other ways of fulfilling their spiritual needs, in the absence of an overarching religious paradigm, should not be at all surprising.
But, the atheist might argue, reason-based unbelief is not just another belief system. Well, yes and no. The very notion of reason itself depends on first principles, logical propositions, and mathematical axioms that are irreducible and unverifiable.
We need not debate the pros and cons of any specific set of beliefs and practices to recognise that we all have a world-view of some sort, which is ultimately based on assumptions that have to be taken as given.
These foundational principles are effectively religious “dogmas” in all but name, whether aligned to a particular faith tradition or not. For example, we happily accept as self-evidently true the notion that life is “sacred”, or that human beings have inherent rights, simply by virtue of being human, not realising that these are beliefs, not facts, which have a specifically Christian genealogy, and would be completely unthinkable to, for example, the citizens of ancient Rome.
The choice is not, as those who share the unexamined assumptions of secular humanism seem to think, between rationalism and religion. This is not only because these are not mutually exclusive categories, but also because, if being “religious” is simply an inescapable feature of being human, then we cannot choose not to be.
The only choice, then, is, which religion? But that is where it can get really tricky for many people, especially if — as is true for the majority today — they do not have a tradition to fall back on.
SO, HOW should people decide between competing truth claims when we no longer share a commonly accepted world-view, and all religions and ideologies are supposed to be equally valid and can therefore be equally dismissed as irrational superstition?
In answering that question, we might want to apply the advice that Jesus gave to his disciples when warning them to beware of false prophets: by their fruits you shall know them (Matthew 7.16).
Our post-Christian culture is full of false prophets, and we should all be very disturbed by that. But could the Church do a better job of explaining that the values that we cherish did not become normative in spite of Christianity, but because of it?
Equality, for example, is not a fact of nature: it is a principle that we assert on the basis of the otherwise unsubstantiated belief that all are equal in the eyes of God. Take God out of the equation, and eventually the principle collapses into something else entirely.
It is time to stop pretending that all belief systems are equally valid. If we are to judge them by their fruits, we need to ask: “Do the beliefs I have about the world, and the actions to which those beliefs give rise, lead to human flourishing, and connect with something greater, namely God, or do they simply divinise the self instead?”
It is because we have taken the latter path that we are where we are.
The Revd Dr Nicholas Buxton is the director of St Antony’s Priory, Durham.