Skepticism, Generic Religion and Those Rich White Men

both thumbs upby Joe Schafer

Skepticism is the philosophy that casts doubt on everything.  Skeptics may say that all religions are the same.  But they do not think that all of them are true.  They probably think that none are true.  To them, religions are metaphors for some grand, overall truth, but what that truth is, they cannot say.  They might say that they believe in God.  But to them, God is vague and unknowable.  Many skeptics claim to have faith.  But their faith has no defined object.  They place their faith in faith itself.

Modern skeptics view history, religion and politics in terms of power struggles between groups.  They say that objectivity is impossible, because each group has its own point of view.  History books were written by the winners, not the losers, so history is subjective and unreliable.  They say one can never know what really happened in the past, because alternative viewpoints have been suppressed.  North American and European traditions are automatically suspect.  Eastern religions are way cooler, not because they are any closer to the truth, but because they are exotic and less familiar.

About three-fourths of Americans today call themselves Christian.  But skepticism is found on every street corner, in every church, synagogue and mosque.  It’s as ubiquitous as Walmart.  This is McFaith, the generic belief system of America.

Skeptics can be outstanding people.  Many whom I know are compassionate, thoughtful and honest. In their kindness and affinity for others, they put many committed Christians to shame.

Although there are skeptics whom I admire, I am dissatisfied with skepticism. Why would someone become a skeptic?  Not because it’s logically consistent.  “Everything is subjective” contains a glaring contradiction.  Each of us perceives the world through lenses of culture and experience.  But this does not imply that reality is unreal.  It does not make every observation an illusion.  If someone says that everything is subjective, he is claiming to see these things rather objectively.  He is claiming to stand on solid ground apart from those personal points of view.  How does one achieve the objectivity to make such a profoundly sweeping statement?

Skepticism is marketed as open-minded and tolerant, but I personally find it condescending. Consider the claim that all religions are the same.  Jews, Christians and Muslims worship an all-powerful creator.  Beyond that, however, the differences are stark.  Christianity asserts the divinity of Christ, which Muslims and non-messianic Jews flatly reject.  If the overlap among religions is so huge and obvious, then why haven’t their adherents realized it yet?  Why aren’t religious leaders working to merge all faiths into one?  Who is the better judge of the true character of a religion: one who truly believes and practices it, or one who observes it superficially from a distance?

To claim that those immersed in their religions cannot see with the clarity of someone on the outside — especially when that outsider happens to be you — isn’t a convincing argument in my book.

Skepticism is the religion of rich white men.   Yes, in the recent past, Christians from Europe and North America exported their culture to other parts of the world.  And the Christianity now practiced in the United States is mixed with contemporary American values (e.g., individualism and consumerism). But this was not always the case.  During its first 1,000 years, Christianity was based in Africa, Asia and the Middle East.  And today, while Christianity is waning in the west, churches are exploding in Latin America, China, and sub-Saharan Africa.  The “average Christian” today is dark-skinned and poor.

While developing nations send pastors to the United States, the moguls of Madison Avenue and Hollywood export sexually explicit images and western-style consumerism to the rest of the world.  Who are the real imperialists now? Faith Mart

Skeptics deny the possibility of miracles.  “Miracles can’t happen,” they say. “Why not?” I ask.  “They just can’t,” is the reply; “Miracles are not reproducible in a scientific experiment.”  Well, that’s why we call them miracles, no?

Many who claim that miracles are impossible seem unaware of how aberrant that belief is relative to what people have thought in other places and times.   This mindset is rooted in the period known as the Enlightenment, in the empiricist philosophies of Hume and Kant. Thomas Jefferson took scissors to his New Testament and cut out every miraculous element. I’ll bet his slaves at Monticello wouldn’t have done that. Again, it’s the religion of the rich white man.   

Of course, people in other places and times also believed that the world is flat.  That idea was overcome by a steady accumulation of evidence, much of it gathered by rich white men.  But the impossibility of miracles is a different matter entirely.  That is a faith-claim that can never be proven. A computer scientist living in the 21st century is in no better position to judge that matter than an illiterate peasant in medieval times or an Australian aborigine in 6,000 BC.

When I call skepticism the religion of the rich white man, I do not intend it as a slur.  Using race, ethnicity or economic status to discredit someone’s views is morally offensive and intellectually lame. My purpose is to challenge the idea that all faith is the byproduct of culture.  Christianity is expressed by individuals within cultures.  But the gospel of Jesus — his message of the kingdom of God — is not a cultural construct at all. The teachings of the New Testament, when properly understood, affirm every culture and challenge every culture.

If you feel that I have mischaracterized your views, then you are probably correct.  The skeptic I have described is partly a straw man.  People are complicated. Their belief systems do not fit neatly into predefined categories. Yet I do have some understanding of American skepticism, because I was once a young American skeptic.

I distinctly remember, back in my freshman year in college, how intoxicating it was to voice skeptical opinions and be welcomed by new friends into the ranks of the enlightened.  I remember the heady feeling when it first dawned on me that now, as a skeptic, my belief system was the greatest because it encompassed all others.  I could now respect all religions of the world without actually having to learn about them, because I had figured out on my own that none of them were true.  And I had accomplished all that by the age of eighteen!

After a brief flirtation with skepticism, I decided instead to believe in Jesus. How and why this happened, I cannot say.  It was not an entirely rational process, but neither was it irrational. Within a year of this uneventful conversion, my friends began to notice that I was different.  Instead of pontificating that all religions were the same, I began to show disdain for anything secular and non-Christian.  I demonstrated that religious people and skeptics are equally prone to arrogance and hypocrisy. I hope I have made progress in that regard. While my beliefs and convictions have become stronger, I hope that I have also grown in the capacity to question myself, to personally admit that I could be wrong, and to consider that my own culturally-bound expressions of Christianity may be inadequate.

There is still one question I cannot resolve: How can people of different faiths, who hold different world views and core values, live together in peace, love and mutual respect? Christianity as a religious movement has failed to provide an answer.  Skepticism hasn’t answered it, either. The idea that you can eliminate conflict by negating all claims of absolute truth is ludicrous.  People who hold different views may interact peacefully in their communities and workplaces.  But often they do so by avoiding politics and religion.  When a polarizing issue comes up, they just “agree to disagree.”  Setting up boundaries and keeping your distance is not the same as acceptance, communication and friendship.

No system of belief can unite people of different beliefs.  But there is a person who, more than any other, broke through these barriers when he interacted with people.  Jesus made claims that are stunningly absolute:  “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me” (John 14:6).  I have heard young people describe these words as “presumptuous,” “arrogant” and “ignorant.”  But Jesus himself was anything but.  He showed respect, understanding, compassion and love toward everyone he encountered. If claims of objective truth are dangerous and repugnant, how could they coexist with this beautiful mind and exemplary life?

Of course, some will claim that the New Testament was fabricated by clerics in the second century. But I would say that skepticism was invented in the 18th century by those rich white men.

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  1. Thank you for this post, Dr. Schafer (I heard about this site through a mutual friend). I couldn’t agree more about the complexity of good and bad people in all faiths (or in non-faiths), and I think it very refreshing – and increasingly rare – to hear that complexity acknowledged.

    Do you make any distinctions between skeptical thought and post-modern thought? From what I’ve heard you say about post-modernism in previous lectures, and from reading the post above, it seemed like you equate the two.

    I’m curious if you would agree that one (more positive, consistent) way of presenting post-modern/skeptical thought could be along the lines of the scientific method, where there are DEGREES of certainty (say, to the extent of the certainty of gravity vs. the extent of the certainty of evolution), but where even the most certain of things will necessarily be circumscribed by an upper-limit of uncertainty. While this negates ABSOLUTE truth, could that just be an acknowledgement of the natural limits to our knowledge? Or am I misrepresenting what post-modernism really is and historically has been?

    I agree that saying all religions are valid is ultimately condescending. But, again along the lines of degrees of certainty, I wonder if post-modernism necessarily implies that. It might concede room for localized knowledge, say, of an isolated rural community of Muslims living out the best choices they are faced with in their community, but not necessarily that their truths are equally true to something, say, is repeatably refutable by science. Or maybe it does. But when you say, “Who is the better judge of the true character of a religion: one who truly believes and practices it, or one who observes it superficially from a distance?” it sort of seems that you are saying the same thing that this kind of post-modernism does.

    I like when people like Dewey (I’m not sure if Pragmatism and post-modernism are the same) say that what is needed is the freedom for and positive culture of interaction and dialogue between local communities and subcultures, implying that there is always the possibility of conversion when an argument is compelling enough, or, on the darker side, if the pitch or social stake is visible and powerful enough. But I think that at least a few moments in our history have shown that nonviolent dialogue and real conversion and action have been possible, whether of an undecided middle ground or the polar-opposite camp. I couldn’t agree more with you that political correctness, taken to an extreme, can lead to more suspicion, dismissiveness, and hostility.

    In any case, thanks again for a thought-provoking post.

  2. Hello Richard,

    Thank you for your interesting questions about my article. Your observations are very astute.

    My article was not intended to be a reaction against postmodernism. It is more of a personal reaction against modernism. Skepticism as I have defined it is a way of thinking that grew out of the Scientific Revolution / Enlightement period beginning in the 18th century (those “rich white men”). It elevated lthe role of logic and empirical evidence and ultimately devalued other sources of knowledge that human beings have always valued, such as faith, intuition, human relationships, etc. Although many Christians have been writing and talking about postmodernism, I think it is fair to say that modernism still exerts the greater influence on our culture. Many good things have come out of modernism (scientific advances, for example). But when we make it into our default religion and reflexively discount other sources of knowledge, it creates a stifling prejudice that many people (not just Christian believers) are beginning to find offensive.

    Postmodernism is a reaction against modernism. It is not the way that I react against modernism, but it is a reaction nevertheless. I suppose that I do sympathize with certain aspects of postmodern thinking. And I believe that you do as well. Postmodern people don’t see the world in terms of black and white, yes and no, right and wrong. They seem to think that every human endeavor is a mixture of good and bad. In that, they are very correct. However, if we apply that way of thinking across the board to everything in the universe, including God, then postmodernism also becomes a stifling prejudice, because it prevents us from acknowledging that there might actually be something that is truly good and truly true, i.e. it discounts the possibility of real divine revelation.

    I think that it is good to know something about the history of Western thought. It helps us to put our beliefs and the beliefs of others into perspective. But to me, there is also something distasteful about all these labels because human beings are not -isms. They are people. I don’t want to devalue people by putting them into little boxes. Once you get to know people on a personal level, they always surprise and intrigue you.

    For myself, I hope that I will remain open to all sources of knowledge. And I want to remain skeptical too, especially of myself. I want to be skeptical even as I read the Bible because spiritual growth requires us to challenge our own assumptions and way of thinking. I think that a healthy does of skepticism about others and ourselves, in combination with faith in a real God who truly relates to us (not a humanly constructed god of knowledge or doctrine) and who truly teaches us, is the way to go.

    I hope you keep coming back to this website, because there are some very good articles in our queue. And if you have something to say, please consider contributing a piece. Although this blog is intended to serve the Penn State community, you don’t have to be a Penn Stater to post here. And, as they say, if God were not a Penn Stater, then why did he make the sky blue and white?

  3. Richard, I realize that I didn’t address your questions about knowledge and degrees of certainty. Your questions seem to be about epistemology, something I don’t know much about. I do think that a requirement that we 100% certain about something before we believe it is unhelpful because, as you say, there are upper limits to certainty. I think that faith corresponds to a decision to act as though something is really true, even though you may not really “know” that it is true in an empirical/evidential sense. And sometimes faith is acting as though something is true when the evidence clearly says otherwise. Basically, I think that faith is a sphere of knowledge that is quite distinct from the limited models of knowletdge promoted by the Enlightenment.

    If you are interested in reading a mind-blowing discussion of the limits of the Enlightenment models of knowledge, I would suggest The Gospel in a Pluralistic Society by Newbigin.

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