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  • Writer's pictureronaldhesselgrave

The Illusion of Ideology—Part Four: Critical Theory, Politics & Faith

In my last post, I gave a general overview of critical theory and its practical uses as well as abuses. In this last post I want to focus on the political implications of CT and some of the challenges this poses for Christians. While it is not possible to discuss all the issues posed by CT, of particular importance for our purposes are the implications of CT for free speech and our understanding of tolerance within a pluralistic democracy. It is also crucial to see how the debate over CT feeds into the overall cultural and political war between the progressive left and the religious right. Will conclude with some observations for a Christian response to our current political malaise.


CT, Free Speech, and Tolerance

According to Helen Pluckrose and James Lindsay, beginning in the late 1980s and early 1990s, postmodern versions of CT took an applied turn and mutated into a diverse set of highly politicized and actionable theories. These theories focused on specific “identity groups” and identity-based oppression. “Identity politics” emerged on the left with the goal of dismantling systems of power and privilege in the name of “social justice.” Finally, in the last decade or so, applied CT (or applied postmodernism) has itself become so prescriptive and activistic that it has (ironically) become a dominant metanarrative of its own which is promoted by social justice scholarship.[1] At its best, this form of CT (also known as the “Social Justice Movement”) has had a chilling effect on the culture of free expression. At its worst it has become a malicious form of bullying and authoritarianism which is hostile and divisive.[2] The result has been an escalating war between the identity politics on the left and a Right-wing identity politics that has long held that white people should hold power in American society.[3] Each side further radicalizes the other.


As I noted earlier, CT in its present form is particularly concerned with the way the dynamics of power are a function of language, or “dominant discourse.” As Pluckrose and Lindsay state, “applied postmodernism focuses on controlling discourses, especially by problematizing language and imagery it deems . . . harmful.” Thus, the present emphasis on political correctness.[4]


To see some of the dangers of CT in this regard let’s look at what is happening in the contemporary American school system. To end LGBTQ bias in grade schools, the Gay, Lesbian, and Straight Educational Network has created an attractively packaged training tool called the GLSEN Lunchbox for teachers beginning at the kindergarten level. This lunchbox includes an activity called “Getting in Touch with Your Inner Trannie” (i.e., inner transgender identity) and another activity called “Deconstructing Definitions of Family.” It also includes “Terminology Game Cards,” which quiz teachers and students on terms such as Biological Sex, Gender Identity, Gender Role, Transgender, Gender Expression, Sexual Orientation, Heterosexism, Transphobia, Asexual, Bisexual, Lesbian, Gay, Transsexual, Intersexual, Androgyny, Cross Dresser, Genderqueer, Gender Non-Conforming, Queer, LGBTQ, Sexual Reassignment Surgery, D/L, and MSM.


In the world of GLSEN there are coloring books designed to deconstruct traditional gender roles. The Maybe the Girls Will Be Boys Will Be Girls coloring book designed for children as young as twelve asks questions such as: How many genders are there? In what ways do you feel confined or restricted by your assigned gender? Was the gender assigned to you the one you feel most comfortable with? What privileges do you or don’t you have due to the gender you have been labeled? Do you feel forced to act in certain ways because of your assigned gender? How do you unlearn gender? One of the illustrations features two kids of unknown sex standing in front of the school bathrooms, with one of them asserting, “I should have worn a skirt. The pants bathroom is full.” As Michael Brown states: “We certainly have come a long way from Dick and Jane story books . . .”[5]


In 2014, Oberlin College posted guidelines for professors, urging them to use language that respected the “emotional safety” of their students. This included using each student’s preferred gender pronoun (for example, “zhe” or “they” for students that don’t want to be referred to as “he” or “she”). Greg Lukianoff and Jonathan Haidt point out that this illustrates a dramatic shift to a subjective standard for determining what is harmful to individuals. Gradually, in the twenty-first century on some college campuses like Oberlin and within the therapeutic community, the meaning of “safety” and “trauma” underwent a process of “concept creep.”

By the early 2000s . . . the concept of “trauma” within parts of the therapeutic community had crept so far that it included anything “experienced by an individual as physically or emotionally harmful. . .” The subjective experience of “harm” became definitional in assessing trauma.. . . It was not for anyone else to decide what was counted as trauma, bullying, or abuse; if it felt like that to you, trust your feelings. If a person reported that an event was traumatic (or bullying or abusive), his or her subjective experience was increasingly taken as sufficient evidence.[6]

Of course, public speech should be characterized by fairness and respect for the dignity of all individuals. Bullying is a problem and schools should endeavor to protect historically marginalized groups and individuals from offensive language. But most current speech codes explicitly reject any form of objective test for offensive, harmful, or harassing speech. Instead, they prohibit any speech that is subjectively deemed as offensive or harmful (or “hate speech”) by the listener. Since most of these codes prohibit “offensive speech” on the basis of race, sexual orientation, or gender they are designed to reverse the “power imbalance” between the allegedly white privileged regime and marginalized groups and individuals. The result, however, is a sort of “subjective authoritarianism” that stifles free speech.[7]


In many ways, justice flows from free speech. Without free speech it is difficult to sustain a democracy. However, within the typical college and university campus, David French observes, “There’s considerable data to suggest that there is rising cultural hostility to free speech. Simply put, while students will pay lip service to free speech, a shockingly high percentage support censorship and shout-downs to block speech they dislike.” In one survey, for example, 61 percent of the students surveyed said the “climate on my campus prevents some people saying things they believe because others might find them offensive.”[8] Mark Lilla, a professor of Humanities at Columbia University and himself a liberal, says based on his experience that students are less and less inclined to engage in any kind of reasoned political debate:

So, classroom conversations that once might have begun, I think A, and here is my argument, now take the form, Speaking as an X, I am offended that you claim B. This makes perfect sense if you believe that identity determines everything. It means that there is no impartial space for dialogue. . . What replaces argument, then, is taboo.[9]

What are the implications of the concept of “dominant discourse” in CT for our notions of “tolerance?” This is a word often used and just as often misused and misunderstood. In a pluralistic society, tolerance implies that there is something to tolerate. It affirms freedom of conscience. It says, in effect: “I disapprove of what you say (or do) but I will defend your right to say and do it.” In other words, it draws a crucial distinction between strongly disagreeing with a belief or behavior and being hateful, violent, or disrespectful toward the person who holds that belief. Today, however, tolerance is generally defined as agreement and support for an identity group—gays, lesbians, bisexuals, asexuals, blacks, Hispanics, Asians, transgender people, women—deemed to be “morally privileged” because of its oppressed status. Since the self is whatever we say it is, any disagreement is held to be oppressive—an attack on the oppressed person as a person. The net effect is a privatization of convictions, or a devaluing, marginalizing, and silencing of opposing views of truth and reality There is no impartial space for dialogue. Politics is no longer about the exchange of ideas; rather it is about advancing the interests of one’s identity group.[10]


Certainly, there are many cases of injustice, as we have observed. But “critical theory . . . by its very principles, uncritically accepts the claims of people in categories deemed oppressed. The possibility that those classed as oppressed might in fact be oppressors in some situations is excluded.”[11] However, tolerance for one group or individual easily becomes intolerance toward another. Sadly, in some cases, main street is becoming more and more like the college campus. In one case, James Damore was terminated by Google for circulating a lengthy memorandum suggesting that disproportionate male representation in tech fields is not due to discrimination but rather is the result of individual choice and innate differences between men and women. After his termination, Damore issued a 181-page complaint arguing that Google’s corporate culture encourages, sanctions, and facilitates abuse against conservative white males.[12]


Millions of Christians have viewed the Supreme Court decision in Obergefell v. Hodges legalizing same-sex marriage as an ominous sign that their first amendment freedoms are in jeopardy. During the oral arguments, it was intimated that the opposition of a university or college to gay marriage is akin to opposing interracial marriage or interracial dating—a position which cost Bob Jones its tax-exempt status. Think for a moment of the cultural and legal implications of casting traditional Christians in the same category as racists for upholding a biblical definition of sex and marriage![13]


Does this mean that the left that has a corner on intolerance? From a conservative perspective, this is the case. As a further example of intolerance on the left, conservatives will point to the case of Masterpiece Cakeshop in Denver, Colorado in which the owner, Jack Phillips, was charged with discrimination against a gay couple for refusing to custom design a cake for their same-sex wedding. Imagine the uproar on the left if a cake shop owner were similarly charged with discrimination for refusing to make a cake with the design of an AR-15 assault rifle for attendees of an NRA convention! However, what if the action or speech is of a type that offends conservative patriots? What about leftist football players who kneel during the national anthem to protest racism? Are they recipients of tolerance from those on the right? As French points out, this was not the case on September 2017 when President Trump said to cheering crowds: “Wouldn’t you love to see one of these NFL owners, when somebody disrespects our flag, to say, ‘Get that son of a bitch off the field right now. Out. He’s fired. He’s fired!” Undoubtedly, there would not have been the same reaction on the political right if conservative NFL football players had been kneeling to protest abortion![14]


In our bitter and deeply polarized political atmosphere we have certain issues that we are passionate about and engage in a form of “self-censorship” on other issues deemed unimportant to our group. We may see our side as caring and compassionate and the other side as cruel and self-serving. But it is not always that simple. Often each side simply has different “identity groups” they single out as victims of injustice and oppression within the framework of its own biases. On the left it is the LGBTQ communities, racial, ethnic, and religious minorities, and victims of sexism and capitalism. On the right it is the unborn, women who are exploited by the abortion and sex trafficking industries, the religiously persecuted (especially white conservative Christians), and socialism’s victims. Thus, tunnel vision on both the left and the right tends to leave millions of oppressed people in the dark.[15]


CT and the “Good News” of the Gospel

To what extent has CT negatively affected the church? I have suggested that varying answers to this question are influenced by differing perceptions of CT as well as by one’s political and religious bias. I suspect that those conservative Christians who score highest on the “Christian Nationalism” scale are also most inclined to reject any form of CT as harmful. On the other hand, those on the “Christian left” who identify more closely with the social gospel and theologies of liberation are more inclined to uncritically accept CT.


Guthrie Graves-Fitzsimmons, a fellow in the Faith and Progressive Policy Initiative with the Center for American Progress suggests that there may be upwards of 35 million Christians who identify with progressive policies on the left.[16] In his popular book, Just Faith: Reclaiming Progressive Christianity (2020) he uses Jesus’ announcement of his ministry in Luke 4:16-19 to support his version of progressive politics as a radical reorientation of society on behalf of groups (poor, minorities, women, the LGBTQ community) which suffer under systemic oppression. The metanarrative of critical theory that Graves-Fitzsimmons embraces runs from oppression to liberation—we are either part of a dominant oppressor group or we are acting on behalf of marginalized groups to dismantle all structures and institutions that subjugate and oppress. In critical theory the fundamental problem is oppression. The greatest sin is therefore oppression (of which members of the dominant group are guilty) and the greatest virtue is the pursuit of liberation. Finally, the imperative of liberating marginalized groups becomes the point of departure for interpreting the Bible. The “interpretive key” for deriving truth from the biblical text is the “experiential authority” of oppressed groups. Thus, we have “black theology,” “feminist theology,” “gay theology,” and so on.


This “politicization” of Jesus’ words in Luke 4 distorts his gospel of the kingdom in several respects. First, the fundamental problem is not oppression but sin, or rebellion against God, which results in a distortion of his entire creation. Sin resides in the human heart. It makes no distinction between rich and poor, the oppressors and the oppressed. Sin certainly does affect social structures and institutions, so that society is often structured in ways that reinforce and perpetuate human sin. Because of sin, humans are often addicted to worldly power. The Old Testament prophets, and Jesus himself, did indeed denounce “social injustice” and oppression through the misuse of power. But attempts to restructure society without dealing with the “sin problem” simply result in the oppressed becoming the oppressors.


Second, the biblical metanarrative which runs from creation to redemption involves the eventual renewal of God’s entire creation which us currently under the bondage of sin. In Luke 4 Jesus is announcing the “good news” of forgiveness of sins and the inbreaking of God’s future reign of righteousness and justice into the present through the power of the cross. Jesus did not come to bring an “otherworldly” salvation that is divorced from the real physical and emotion, as well as spiritual, needs of individuals. But neither did he come to bring a political kingdom. Christ’s kingdom transcends all political divisions. Because we currently live in the tension between the “now” and the “not yet” of God’s future kingdom we must reject all utopian visions of achieving a “here” and “now” kingdom through political activism, which are popularized by many religious progressives, such as Brian McLaren, Rob Bell, and Doug Pagitt.[17]


Finally, extreme versions of critical race theory are far too simplistic in their assumption that “existing power structures” can always be accurately analyzed through the prism of race. As French states: “Quite simply, race (or gender or gender identity) are not always material factors in any given historical development or cultural phenomenon, and the desire to attempt to racialize any given power structure can lead to radically-strained analysis. CRT is biased in favor of viewing much of life through a racial lens, and that lens does not always see reality clearly.” [18] Extreme versions of CT and CRT wrongly place race, gender, or sexual orientation at the center of human identity. It is true, of course, that sin causes humans in their pride (including Christians) to make the identities of race, class, or gender central to their perceptions of themselves and others. These are false constructs that must be opposed by Christians everywhere.[19] Attitudes of “white supremacy,” especially, are a cancer that must be cut out of the church.[20]


From a biblical standpoint, all humans are at the same time both God’s imagers and sinners in need of grace. As Christians, our identity in Christ transcends and relativizes membership in any identity group. The lordship of Christ as revealed in Scripture is the central lens through which we view reality. The experiences of people held to be oppressed (black, female, etc.) can help inform our understanding of Scripture. They can help uncover ways in which a majority culture uses various passages to maintain its privileged status. But this does not mean that their lived experience is authoritative. As Thaddeus Williams states. “God’s solidarity with the poor and the oppressed in Scripture never means that he elevates their perspective to sacred, unquestionable status.” Scripture must be interpreted and applied on its own terms.[21]


Conclusion: Exclusion & Embrace

One voice that needs to be heard in our current political malaise is that of theologian Miroslav Volf, who experienced the same political and social turmoil during the war of independence of Croatia from Yugoslavia. In his classic work Exclusion and Embrace he warns us that the deep divisions in our nation are devolving into an exclusionary polarity of “us against them,” “their gain—our loss,” “either us or them”—which, if unchecked, will mutate into a “perverse communion of mutual hate and mourning over the dead.”[22]


At the core of the gospel is the belief that the One who entered history to take upon himself the sins of the world is also the “Prince of peace.” God’s willingness to forgive, receive, and embrace a hostile humanity must be a model for how humans (and especially Christians) relate to one another. The cross teaches us that the only final alternative to violence is self-giving love and forgiveness, a mutual “willingness to embrace the other in the knowledge that truth and justice have been and will be upheld by God.”[23]


Sadly, Christians themselves are often guilty of a confusion of loyalties. Though affirming their ultimate allegiance to the Gospel of Jesus Christ as defined by the cross, many Christians in fact seem to have an overriding commitment to their respective cultures and ethnic groups. “Hence in conflict situations they tend to fight on the side of their cultural group and employ faith as a weapon in struggle.” Efforts at reconciliation quickly evaporate as the “inter-locking relations of church and cultural section . . . spill into partisan politics marked by the mobilization of collective hate and cultivated bigotry.”[24] Forgiveness often flounders because

“I exclude the enemy from the community of humans even as I exclude myself from the community of sinners.”

We cannot truly know and follow the crucified Messiah unless we overcome by his Spirit this double exclusion—transferring the enemy from the sphere of monstrous humanity to the sphere of shared humanity and myself from the sphere of proud innocence into the sphere of common sinfulness.[25]


To break through this captivity to culture and achieve true reconciliation, Christians must adopt what Volf calls a “theology (or drama) of embrace.”[26] This must begin with a gesture of invitation to reconciliation and justice. This is represented by a speech which Martin Luther King Jr. gave just a few weeks before the formal end of the Montgomery Bus Boycott, which was sparked by the lifelong activist for justice, Rosa Parks. In that address, King mentioned the concept of the “beloved community.” He said: “It is true that as we struggle for freedom in America we will have to boycott at times. But we must remember as we boycott that a boycott is not an end within itself.” Rather, he explained, “the end is reconciliation; the end is redemption; the end is the creation of the beloved community.” King never lost sight of the fact that love for neighbor is what fuels the demand for change. “In the beloved community, love is an action that uses the levers of power to bring about justice.”[27] In his legendary speech, “I Have a Dream” King gave a compelling plea for national reconciliation. He dreamed: “One day, . . . little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.” But though his goal was one of reconciliation, it was not a cheap reconciliation devoid of justi

Justice is almost always thought of in terms of how we arrange the world. Seldom is it connected with virtue—the sort of people we are and the type of character we possess.[28] But Volf and others rightly point out that there cannot be a solution to our current crisis without the three cardinal virtues of love, truth, and humility. We must live the truth in love. There can be no truth without the will to embrace the other in love; nor can the will to embrace the other be sustained if there is not a willingness to embrace the truth. We are sustained by the rightness of our cause. But love prevents us from sacrificing the other on the altar of my truth. Mercy and love cause us to treat others with compassion even when we believe we are right, and others are wrong. Finally, humility reminds us that we are not infallible. As the apostle Paul reminds us, we “know in part” and “see through a glass darkly.” Especially when faced with complex problems we must strive to have a “double vision”—seeing things both “from here” (our perspective) and “from there” (the perspective of the other). Humility causes us to be open to criticism, acknowledge our own self-deceit, and part with our own self-serving and power maintaining ideologies.[29]

[1] Pluckrose and Lindsay, Cynical Theories, 45-66. [2] Ibid., 14-15. [3] Ibid., 259. [4] Ibid., 61-62. [5] Brown, A Queer Thing Happened to America, 92-94. [6] Lukianoff and Haidt, The Coddling of the American Mind, 24-28. [7] French, “On the Use and Abuse of Critical Race Theory,” 4-5. [8] French, Divided We Fall, 104-106. [9] Lilla, The Once and Future Liberal, 90-91. [10] Plasterer, “Critical Theory’s Advent in the Christian World,” 2. [11] Ibid., 3. [12] French, Divided We Fall, 188-91. [13] Ibid., 50-51. [14] Ibid., 198. [15] Williams, Confronting Injustice without Compromising the Truth, 134. [16] Graves-Fitzsimmons, “No More Playing Defense.” [17] See, for example, McLaren, Everything Must Change, 296; Bell, Velvet Elvis, 149-50. See also Miles, “A Kingdom without a King?” [18] French, “On the Use and Abuse of Critical Race Theory,” 4. [19] Ibid., 6. [20] See Jones, White Too Long, 155-87. [21] Williams, Confronting Injustice without Compromising the Truth, 157. [22] Volf, Exclusion and Embrace, 99. [23] Ibid., 295. [24] Volf, “The Social Meaning of Reconciliation,” 2. [25] Volf, Exclusion and Embrace, 124. [26] Ibid., 140-45. [27] Tisby, How to Fight Racism, 141-42. [28] Volf and McAnnally-Linz, Public Faith in Action, 192. [29] See Volf, Exclusion and Embrace, 233-73. See also French, Divided We Fall, 250-57.

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