When David Horowitz compiled his list for The Professors: The 101 Most Dangerous Academics in America, he completely ignored me. I have to admit, I was a bit disappointed. After all, by his standards-the academic equivalent of those by which Fox News declares itself "fair and balanced"-a secularist professor like myself is sure to corrupt America's youth. In fact, Horowitz spends much of his time accusing good-old-fashioned liberals who sometimes rant against U.S. policies in their classes. This is hardly surprising, and many students who, like me, were educated in Reagan's America heard countless classroom indictments of "Dutch" during the course of our studies. Nonetheless, my generation came of age, got white-collar jobs, bought SUVs, and helped elect George W. Bush to office. From what I could see, the political leanings of long-haired, Birkenstock-wearing professors did little to influence students' politics twenty years ago, and there is almost nothing to suggest that the classroom dynamic has changed much since then.
Now that I am entrusted with educating some of our nation's youth, I sometimes find myself tempted to become overly sensitive in my own classroom discussions . . . and not only on matters political. A new sensitivity is creeping into classrooms, one that threatens yet again to stifle free discussion even in the university, which at least some of us see as the last bastion of free inquiry. This sensitivity is sparked by a recent uptick in complaints about professors in general, and increased volume from both religious liberals and conservatives, crying for religious sensitivity. Between them, liberals who worry about intolerance and conservatives seeking to defend a faith they believe is "under attack" have squelched on-campus inquiry into one of the most important of human phenomena: religion.
This of course hits on an area we should all be quite concerned about. Scholarly, scientific criticism and inquiry into religious claims and texts have led many of us to our present state of secular humanism. This is, of course, the reason religious conservatives fear too much inquiry: it leads to doubt. On the other hand, liberals-whether religious or secular-fear not doubt but rather the appearance of being intolerant or even just rude. Yet, there is a clear difference between intolerance and rudeness on the one hand and scientific, scholarly inquiry into cherished beliefs on the other.
Religion is one of the most powerful social phenomena in the world. It guides nations, wars, societies, even whole eras; it has catalyzed climactic moments in history. As such, it should be studied-and thoroughly. Religions hinge on truth claims, usually embodied in texts and carried out through social practices and belief sets that are often highly institutionalized and structured. The texts, truth claims, belief sets, and structures of religion can and should all be put to the sort of tests to which other institutionalized phenomena are subject, namely: tests for internal logical consistency in belief sets, tests of corroboration for truth claims, and examinations of the efficacy of institutions and other structures within the boundaries of religions. We do this with ideologies in political science. We do this with theories in economics. We do this with nontheistic philosophies. Scholarly integrity and academic honesty demand that the same level of criticism be employed for religions and their institutions as for other social phenomena. As religious fundamentalists, and most vociferously, Christian groups, raise their voices at alleged discrimination against Christians, it is tempting to seek to maintain order in the academy by toning down scholarly programs in scriptural criticism. This would be intellectually dishonest and must be avoided.
But faced with more shrill accusations of discrimination against the biggest religious majority in the United States-and buoyed by far too few voices of reason challenging that ridiculous conceit-academics whose principal concern is not to "stir the pot" may back off from investigations, queries, and challenges they might otherwise be perfectly entitled to make in the classroom on any one of a number of religious topics. The net effect of the outcry over supposed discrimination against religion may well be a chilling of speech, which is the precise opposite of what ought to be urged in institutions of learning. Moreover, despite the outcry, there is simply no evidence for this alleged discrimination. For instance, three years ago, the Alliance Defense Fund issued a call for claims of discrimination against Christians at college campuses. A thorough look at their Web site indicates that there resulted no tsunami of claims against heathen professors. It seems unlikely that this claimed discrimination actually occurs. Perhaps students, faced-in many instances, for the first time-with the challenges to orthodoxy likely to arise in the course of scientific, historical, and social study, feel their faith tested. That is not the fault of the facts nor the fault of those purveying the facts; in any case, mere facts cannot be intolerant. Given this, if a professor lecturing on epistemology suggests that the most successful means to discovering truth is through observation and experience rather than revelation, can a religious student credibly claim discrimination? After all, revelation is the foundation for fundamentalist conceptions of Christian truth claims. No, we cannot water down honest, scholarly criticism of religious truth claims in the classroom. There is perhaps no more suitable place for scientific investigation, free inquiry, and hard-hitting challenges to religious claims, even while respecting the dignity and autonomy of those who hold revelation as paramount to empiricism.
Liberals who think this shows intolerance are wrong. The entire foundation of scholarship is built upon experience and empiricism. There is nothing discriminatory in the success of this foundation. We can say with confidence that there is, for instance, scant evidence even of the existence of a historical person named Jesus Christ, because the only evidence seems to come from the Gospels, a source that may have some inherent bias. This is not an affront to Christianity but an honest statement of historical fact. It is a fact that may change should further, corroborating historical documents come to light, though none have so far. As an empirical finding, it is open to change, unlike the objects of revelation. So should we feel confident enough in the academy to state such an unpopular truth? Absolutely.
Academic freedom is essential to the integrity of our educational institutions, and it protects teachers in discussing even unpopular opinions. It should protect that much more the expression of unpopular facts. Majorities cannot seek refuge in their numbers from the onslaught of science and learning and must not be allowed to denude the free inquiry of others. Educators must be re-emboldened by their duty to not pander to popularity but to inquire into truths and to stand steadfast behind the success of empirical methods. We cannot bow to the claims of religious discrimination. Even while we ought not to mock those who hold unwarranted beliefs, we must remain critical of those beliefs, using the tools of science and reason to challenge them wherever possible.
CFI SUMMIT
OCTOBER 24-27 2013
TACOMA, WASHINGTON
Joint Conference of the Council for Secular Humanism, Center for Inquiry, and Committee for Skeptical Inquiry
The transnational secular humanist magazine
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