The twin problems of loneliness and polarization
Plus, how to get signed copies of Uneasy Citizenship
As a political scientist I read a lot about political and social polarization, and the latest research is concerning.1 Just as important for today’s collective ailments, though, is increasing loneliness and alienation across virtually every element of society.
Writing for The Gospel Coalition, Brett McCracken reviews the documentary film Join or Die, which argues for rebuilding a crumbling social capital infrastructure nearly 25 years since Robert Putnam’s influential book, Bowling Alone. But in doing so, McCracken also reflects on the ways in which religion—and at least element, church attendance—has fallen victim to the same maladies as other forms of collective activities. And the consequences are serious.
For example:
The film observes that the things you learn to do at church—run a meeting, give a speech, organize people to solve community problems—are transferable skills to other civic groups. As the vitality of church communities wanes, the ripple effects are felt throughout civic life.
He continues:
Yet this is clearly the trend of religious affiliation in America: identification with a faith without bothering with the inconveniences and uncomfortable dynamics of a faith community; curating a bespoke, tailored-to-me spirituality rather than committing to an institution; having an individualized relationship with Jesus but opting out of church.
McCracken goes on to reference a New York Times story featuring a woman who spent much of her life in church communities yet no longer attends a congregation. Still, she identifies as a Christian, and nourishes her faith on a diet of podcasts and websites discussing politics and cultural issues from a Christian perspective.
“I have,” the woman claims, “my own little thing with the Lord.”
McCracken is (rightly) troubled by these kinds of developments:
This is how we do spirituality in the digital age. In a world of smartphones, algorithms, and one-click consumerism, we expect everything to cater to us on our terms, fast and frictionless. That’s why something like committed involvement in a local church—which is anything but fast and frictionless—becomes counterintuitive. Why bother with church when spiritual “content” is in ample supply on YouTube? Why submit myself to a religious “system” (in which I might not fully align with all tenets or all participants all the time) when online life lets me be religious on my own terms, fed only by the voices and expressions I like?
When church becomes less a community of believers—sharing joy and struggle and all that life entails together while engaging in the corporate worship of God—and more about what it can offer us as individuals, then it becomes yet another malleable and ultimately disposable source of personal identity formation.
McCracken’s reflections on why it matters that more and more of us are “believing alone” connect to another recent essay, from philosopher Dan Williams. Here, Williams offers his thoughts on America’s “epistemological crisis,” and what it means that more and more of us are not just sorting into politically homogeneous tribes, but increasingly believe “the other tribe has lost its mind.” He continues:
Many liberals and conservatives seem to inhabit distinct realities. And within these realities, they have constructed narratives to explain why their ideological enemies are afflicted with ignorance, lies, and delusion.
It seems to me that polarization and alienation are twin perils facing our political and social environment. They are at the very least siblings, sprouting from the same roots of expressive individualism.2 For Christians serious about shoring up the cultural ruins, the most important things we can do are the most relational, and driven by concern not for me, but we.
Signed Copies of Uneasy Citizenship Now Available!
Would you like to encourage someone discouraged by the state of our politics? Have you considered buying a copy of my book but haven’t yet? Are you looking for the perfect Election Day gift?3
Whatever the reason, I’m excited to share that signed copies of Uneasy Citizenship are now available! You can request your copy here and ask for a personalized message. You’re even getting it at a slight discount, considering I’ll mail the book to you in addition to signing and inscribing it.
Recommended Reading
Perdition (Mere Orthodoxy)
My favorite essay from the last couple of weeks comes from Hillsdale College’s Miles Smith, on how Christians’ understand of tragedy can and should be applied to the way we think about politics, including our political engagement and decision making. Some important points:
Evangelicals seem unwilling to think that our politics, even our conservative politics, might be essentially tragic. It is of a very different sort than the natural disasters visiting the southeast and the toll it takes on American life will be different. Even so, the 2024 presidential campaign is a type of tragedy. For many Evangelicals, choosing between the two is a near-existential psycho-intellectual crisis. Because we lack an understanding of the tragic, we tend to think that everything we do must somehow be "redemptive."
More:
Evangelicals’ lack of a systematic understanding of the relationship—or non-relationship—between the church, elections, and politicians led to de facto theocratic politics wherein ministers or so-called “ministry leaders” wedded spiritual pronouncements to political ones. The vote—a decidedly non-spiritual act if ever there was one—became a sort of sacrament for 80s and 90s Moral Majority evangelicals convinced that they had a spiritual duty to redeem America. This redemption, however, was somehow both political and spiritual, leading evangelicals to assume that there was somehow an inevitable and specific policy end to the sanctified private and public Christian life. This deeply confused and wildly inconsistent polemic is what allowed Christians in good faith to baptize not voting for Bill Clinton and then two decades later to baptize voting for Donald Trump, two men whose positions on abortion and whose personal morality are largely equivalent.
The solution—or at least a way forward—is for Christians like you and me to begin thinking realistically about just how messed up our political situation is, given the two principal choices for president this November — and, ultimately, where that leaves us as we make the best of a bad situation:
Evangelicals seem convinced that they could never be a part of a national political tragedy, and their refusal to concede the essentially tragic nature of American politics is to their peril. Every succeeding generation of evangelicals, left right and center, seem convinced that salvation lies in their own political exertions, seemingly unaware that they too could be a part of a national political tragedy, wherein God’s judgment comes on the moral and immoral, on the pious and impious. There are cases, I am sure, to be made for voting for Trump, and that is who most of my tribe will tend towards. Maybe it is necessary. Maybe it is prudent. But don’t tell me it is anything other than tragic that either of the two leading candidates for the presidency will eventually govern the American republic.
Smith concludes with a powerful reminder:
As Americans go to the polls, we do so living the reality of a political tragedy. There are only despots on the ballot; this is the political life the American republic has chosen, and the life it is leading. There is only one guarantee. If God chooses to weigh us only by our electoral choices, none of us will see heaven.
I do think there is reason to be optimistic about the promise of politics to be a force for good in our communities, to promote the wellbeing of our neighbors and the flourishing of those around us. But in the context of politics-as-voting when applied to the most “important” office in the country, Smith is right that we would do well to consider our choice as nothing short of tragic. At least we’d be being honest with ourselves.
The Acceptance Stage of Lost Evangelical Influence (Christianity Today)
Theologian Matthew Kaemingk writes about how American evangelicals are “grieving” the changing culture and the lost of social and political influence accompanying these changes. He writes not to celebrate or mourn, but rather to offer suggestions for Christians unsure of how to live well in this new environment.
Specifically, he calls for a return to right theology about the omnipotence and sovereignty of God in all areas of human existence, including politics. He calls for tactical adjustments in the way evangelicals do politics, advising Christians to better learn “how to play with others.” He calls for an improved political posture, one that adapts to our new circumstances rather than retreads old moves. And he calls for a “profound renewal of the evangelical imagination.” To wit:
Evangelicals will need to shift from a life of political consumption to one of cultural creativity. Rather than consuming endless hours of political vitriol via cable news, talk radio, and social media, we need to focus on—to put it frankly—becoming more interesting human beings. It may seem an odd political prescription, but evangelicals need to throw more dinner parties, attend more poetry classes, take up woodworking, and start book clubs or bowling leagues. We should serve refugee families or learn a new language, learn to cook or throw a neighborhood picnic.
The mindless consumption of political rage will never produce an evangelical political witness marked by creativity, imagination, or wisdom. A life filled with play, beauty, learning, and love offers fertile soil for a much healthier political culture.
Kaemingk’s essay is an acknowledgment of the messiness of pluralism as well as the opportunities Christians have to engage productively with our neighbors in such an environment, while maintaining a healthy and proactive political posture. If you’ve read chapter five of Uneasy Citizenship, you’ll understand why I couldn’t agree more.
I describe and explain this problem in greater detail in the third chapter of Uneasy Citizenship.
Is “Election day gift” a thing, you ask? It is now.