Below is my republication of an article which originally appeared on the blog "Rationally Speaking", maintained by Prof. Massimo Pigliucci, a philosopher at the City University of New York. The article was written by Ian Pollock. It was published under the Creative Commons License, which is why it is legal to republish it here. No changes have been made in the article.
I am republishing it here because I think it does an excellent job of pointing out the non-neutrality of secularism, in spite of its loud and constant claims to be neutral. Polluck himself holds a Naturalistic (Atheistic) worldview. I've commented a tiny bit on this article here. I also engaged in some substantive dialogue over the ideas expressed in this article in the comments section of the original article.
The secular movement is a cause that, by and large, I support. I think a
more secular society would be a better one. But I think some of the
purported arguments for secularism are in one way or another bad
arguments. Here, I attempt to prod secularists into some critical
reflection on their ideas.
As secularists would be wise to point out more often, secularism does
not mean the promotion of atheism in anywise. In fact, the historical
roots of secularism lie in the desire of non-dominant faiths to enjoy
legal protection against the persecutions of majority religions. This is
a very good reason to enforce a firewall between the promotion of
atheism and the promotion of secularism — both may or may not be worthy
goals, but they are not the
same goal.
The modern secular ideal goes roughly as follows: “government
institutions and individuals charged with them should be separated from
religious institutions and the people charged with them.” This idea has a
long pedigree that includes ancient and mediaeval thinkers such as
Epicurus and Ibn Rushd, as well as moderns such as Locke, Jefferson and
Rawls.
The modern secular movement is committed to two main principles: (1)
religions are welcome to participate in moral and political debate in
the public sphere, so long as they use language and arguments that are
at least in principle accessible to all participants in the public
sphere; (2) the state may not endorse any one religious perspective over
any other.
As an example of principle (1), if a Muslim wishes to ban artistic
portrayals of Mohammad because such betrayals are considered morally
wrong by their faith, they can’t simply argue that “This contravenes my
faith.” Rather, they must come up with a secular argument that does not
directly use a faith perspective (though it may still mention it). For
example, they could opt for a quasi-utilitarian argument along the lines
of “Depictions of Mohammad are deeply offensive to most Muslims;
ceteris paribus, it is bad to egregiously offend people; therefore,
depictions of Mohammad should be banned.” This may or may not be a good
argument, but it is at least valid, and in principle a Christian, Hindu
or atheist could go along with its logic.
As an example of principle (2), if a Christian wishes to promote the Ten
Commandments, they must do so using private resources and on private
property; they may not, for example, put up a statue of Moses with the
TC on a public space such as a courthouse lawn, with public money.
(One important note regarding principle (2): state promotion of atheism
counts as promoting a religious perspective, so regimes such as the
former Soviet Union are in violation of the principles of secularism.)
As Julian Baggini points out
in the Guardian,
this vision of secularism is probably the best way to move societies
with a plurality of religions forward while preventing sectarian
gridlock and possible violence. It is imperative that religious people,
moderates in particular, be convinced of such a view, which is why it
may be a good idea to pick one’s fights by steering away from battling
the more trivial violations of these principles in order to focus on the
really serious violations.
The pragmatic adequacy of this ideal is, I think, very easy to argue for
and very robust. With much relaxation of the above two principles, one
ends up at best with sectarian conflict, and at worst with some shade of
theocracy.
There is just one problem with it, which is that whatever its pragmatic
worth, both of its principles are ultimately founded on special pleading
— i.e., both of its principles are unprincipled. Certain groups of
religious people notice this lack of principle. Because of this, the
above understanding of secularism leads to inevitable pathologies in
political debate.
Let’s start with principle (1), that religions and worldviews may
participate in the public sphere so long as they “translate” their views
into secular language accessible to all participants.
Our first and most important objection is that there is no principled
difference between religious beliefs and secular beliefs. Religious
beliefs can (according to their proponents) be backed up by some sort of
line of reasoning, even if it’s a bad one, just like secular beliefs.
Suppose I wish to defend my view that non-marital sex is a moral evil.
All I have to do is explain that my holy book says that, and then give
evidence for the miraculous predictions my holy book has made which
verify its general trustworthiness, and I have (contrary to appearances)
completed a fully secular argument. (Not a good one — but that is no
criterion for automatic exclusion!)
How is that any different from a pundit weighing in on economic policy,
then explaining why his Keynesian approach has always been successful in
predicting the effects of economic policy? Why is one of these people
required to “translate” or shut up, and the other not?
Second, the demand to “translate,” even if accepted, leads to
pathologies in public debate. Specifically, it forces religious
believers into a position of insincerity. Given that I believe
non-marital sex is morally bad and should be prevented, how am I to make
my case without referencing my faith? By sheer sophistry, of course.
Perhaps I opt for a utilitarian sophistry: sex outside of marriage leads
to depression and suicide. Now the public sphere is polluted not merely
with mistakes but with lies.
What about principle (2), that the state should take no position on religious questions?
This principle fails due to the same lack of a principled distinction
between secular versus religious questions. Suppose I believe that 2015
will be the beginning of the End Times, when the world will be consumed
in a great war involving all countries. Is this a religious question?
Not for me. It’s a practical question: I already started buying the cans
of lentils for my bomb shelter.
Suppose further that enough of the population agrees with me that they
elect me Prime Minister. On what earthly basis can I “take no position”
on the question of the End Times because it’s a “religious question”? Am
I to abandon my country to the massacre and famine I know is coming?
This example is extreme, but the same applies to more mundane concerns.
When it comes to policy, every question is potentially a religious
question.
How could we ever think otherwise? I think the mistake arises from the
differing epistemic status of “belief” among two groups of people, whom I
will call True Believers and Professors (borrowing the terminology from
Daniel Dennett).
True Believers are people who are convinced of religious propositions in
the same way that they are convinced of any other proposition, such as
that Mexico is to the south of the USA. They have seen some evidence
which convinces them, and they are now willing to act as if the
religious propositions are straightforwardly true. You know those
people, so beloved of the atheist blogosphere, who pray for their kids
instead of taking them to the hospital? Those are classic True
Believers.
Professors are people who nominally adhere to some system of religious
doctrine as part of their identity, but whose epistemology does not,
when push comes to shove, actually
contain all of those doctrines
— particularly as concerns worldly affairs. For example, Professors
believe in the power of prayer, but as a way of dealing with loss, not
as a means for deciding whether to bomb Damascus. Somewhere in their
heart of hearts is a bit of common sense, and it holds an override
switch.
We can see that the distinction between “religious questions” and
“secular questions” makes a great deal of sense for Professors.
Religious questions are basically de facto questions of identity,
however much they are dressed up as propositional belief. John F.
Kennedy is loyal to the Catholic identity, which theoretically includes
papal infallibility, but don’t worry! He isn’t
literally going to do whatever the Pope tells him to.
To True Believers, such a distinction is sheer gobbledigook. I’m forced to admit they have a point, at least on this question.
The ultimate unprincipledness of the two tenets of secularism is
beginning to be noticed. For example, Michael Sandel has recently
begun to argue
that irreducibly religious (as well as, presumably, antireligious)
arguments should be acceptable in political debate. It is hard to argue
with his logic: policy proposals depend on moral claims, and moral
claims depend on some substantive vision of the good life.
Philosophically, it all rings true; pragmatically, it sounds like a
potential recipe for sectarian civil war.
How did we get into this bizarre situation in which the only way to have
a workable, non-sectarian political process is to exclude, via outright
special pleading, explicitly religious viewpoints from the public
sphere and from the law?
I believe that secularism, as imagined above, arises more or less as follows:
- Participation of citizens with differing views in political debate is supposed to be part of the democratic process.
- However, a large fraction of citizens hold some views that
are (in the judgment of more sober minds) straightforwardly insane, and
would not hesitate to impose the policy implications of those views upon
the rest of society if given the ability to do so.
- Religious moderates, religious minorities and non-believers, tacitly
recognizing these two facts, promote secularism as a compromise,
despite its philosophical bankruptcy and practical pathologies.
Seen in this light, it is obvious why secularism cannot really be
principled. It is an attempt to consign certain groups of sincere but
deluded religious believers to a rhetorical sandbox.
Sometimes a matter of great practical import must override a matter of
principle, however. The philosophically correct picture, as far as I can
see, is a public policy debate in which any argument (religious or not)
is permitted, and there is no false distinction between religious and
secular questions. The sanity of the majority prevails, epistemically
bad views lose to epistemically good ones in the marketplace of public
opinion, and we all ride our unicorns into the sunset.
We should probably just stick with the old, unprincipled hack. But let us at least be honest with ourselves about what it is.
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