Gotham Diary:
Robust
3 February 2015

David Brooks and Ross Douthat — I always read their columns in the Times. I want to see what they’re up to. Both are appealing writers of conservative allegiance, which, ordinarily, I should find repellent. But both write a good deal about faith and religion, and this is what draws me to them. What have men of faith got to say for themselves?

It is difficult for them to talk about God without sounding like the Dominican nuns who taught me in the first years of elementary school. Belief in God is good because it makes you behave. There is always a whiff of scolding.

Here is David Brooks this morning, listing the things that “secularists” are missing.

Secular individuals have to build their own moral philosophies. Religious people inherit creeds that have evolved over centuries. Autonomous secular people are called upon to settle on their own individual sacred convictions.

Secular individuals have to build their own communities. Religions come equipped with covenantal rituals that bind people together, sacred practices that are beyond individual choice. Secular people have to choose their own communities and come up with their own practices to make them meaningful.

Secular individuals have to build their own Sabbaths. Religious people are commanded to drop worldly concerns. Secular people have to create their own set times for when to pull back and reflect on spiritual matters.

Secular people have to fashion their own moral motivation. It’s not enough to want to be a decent person. You have to be powerfully motivated to behave well. Religious people are motivated by their love for God and their fervent desire to please Him. Secularists have to come up with their own powerful drive that will compel sacrifice and service.

The point is not that secular people should become religious. You either believe in God or you don’t. Neither is the point that religious people are better than secular people. That defies social science evidence and common observation. The point is that an age of mass secularization is an age in which millions of people have put unprecedented moral burdens upon themselves. People who don’t know how to take up these burdens don’t turn bad, but they drift. They suffer from a loss of meaning and an unconscious boredom with their own lives.

One other burden: Past secular creeds were built on the 18th-century enlightenment view of man as an autonomous, rational creature who could reason his way to virtue. The past half-century of cognitive science has shown that that creature doesn’t exist. We are not really rational animals; emotions play a central role in decision-making, the vast majority of thought is unconscious, and our minds are riddled with biases. We are not really autonomous; our actions are powerfully shaped by others in ways we are not even aware of.

“Unconscious boredom” is pretty sneaky, don’t you think? But vintage Brooks: The Doctor Is In.

The weakest item on the list is the one about the Sabbath. Strictly speaking, the matter has already been covered by the first item — to which I should argue that there is nothing to prevent a secular person, somebody like me, who doubts very much that one’s thoughts about God are anybody else’s business, from weighing and considering existing moral philosophies and adopting whatever seems right. Having been educated in moral philosophy since childhood, I am hardly forced to dream up one of my own from scratch. It’s true that I was somewhat self-servingly eclectic in my youth. But life had a way of showing me the error of my ways, and encouraged me to think a little harder about the wisdom of the ages.

But Sabbaths! It seems desperate.The idea of setting an entire day apart for everyone to “drop worldly concerns” strikes me as both invasive and primitive. Hearkening back to Iron Age behavioral precepts always “reminds” me that life without bathrooms is much simpler, because you never need a plumber. Less is, quite often, just less — and “simple” a euphemism for “impoverished.”

I completely agree with the final item. I have been aware of this problem — that we are not rational animals — for all of my adult life, and I’m somewhat mystified that it’s news to anyone. It’s true that I have also tended to find manly talk about rationality perfectly ridiculous. Human beings are almost absolutely irrational by nature. But it’s also in their nature to want to do better. Hence diets and reading lists.

At the end of his column, Brooks writes, “The only secularism that can really arouse moral motivation and impel action is an enchanted secularism, one that puts emotional relations first and autonomy second.” “Enchanted” sounds agreeably poetic, but I can’t make sense of it. Enchanted by what? And with whose consent? Enchantments are usually involuntary, or at least unasked for. I’m seeing fairy dust here. Otherwise, however, I agree. I might put it a little differently: “… one that better weaves together emotional commitments and the irrepressible longing for autonomy.” Only in miserable situations do human beings like being told what to do. We need to work harder on preventing miserable situations.

My belief is that robust self-respect is fully capable of the moral heavy lifting that compels religious people to follow commandments. I’m aware that the word “robust” might be guilty of the same special pleading made by Brooks’s “enchanted,” so I’d like to try to be clear about it. Robustness requires a number of positive circumstances: good health, particularly mental health; a reasonable degree of prosperity; social tranquility. The whole point of civil society — which may be seen as a slowly-evolving dialogue between human beings and their human nature — is to ensure these circumstances. Yes, we have a lot of work to do. Yes, it would be much simpler just to believe in an invisible supreme being who, to top it all off, created us.

I am not keen on community. In my experience, community is a platform for subjugation and renunciation, offered as a sort of insurance premium that promises to minimize the desolation of bad times. I frankly regard communities as herds: no thinking, please! I support civil society because it is based on conventions that can (with care) be changed, not dogmas that lead to fighting words.

Which takes me right to France, where Islamicist unrest is also featured in today’s paper. (“France’s Ideals, Forged in Revolution, Face a Modern Test.”) I have not had a chance to study (ie, to read about) the growth of France’s impoverished maghrébin community, but following recent developments has led to two conclusions. First, the presence of unassimilated North Africans in France reflects an irresponsibility on the part of the French state. Whether these people were allowed into France for economic reasons or to grant political asylum, it ought to have been clear that immigration was the first step in a long process, not the last in a short one. Successive governments have built the ghastly banlieues and imprisoned the newcomers and their descendants in meaningless lives.

Second, we have been through this religious freedom business in the United States. There are limits. Human sacrifice is not permitted. Nor is polygamy. I am no less opposed to distinctive headgear for women than I am to polygamy — no matter how “meaningful” either may be claimed to be by subscribers, the practices are both patently degrading to women and flattering to men. (The idea of flattering men makes me angry.) I am also opposed to minarets, if only because their primary purpose is to facilitate the call to prayer. I am all for bells, however, if French Muslims are willing to consider a shift.

But the faults of French Muslims are decidedly secondary. It is up to the government to envision a radical improvement in the quality of life in the banlieues. And the people of France must do everything to cooperate. They cannot at this time repudiate the mistakes of earlier leaders. The maghrébins are in France now, not the Maghreb, and they’re not going anywhere. France, just like everywhere else in the developed world, is in desperate need of good leaders.