But the most irritating contemporary ‘ism’ is ‘evangelicalism,’ which, as actually discussed, is nothing but a straw man conjured up when someone wishes to play the prophet and sound important.  There is a digital cottage industry in criticizing ‘evangelicalism,’ and the grounds on which this is done are about as diverse as the number of people who have found an audience in doing so.

The contemporary world is confused in its thinking on many points. There is perhaps no greater proof of this than the near-universal tendency to think of all phenomena as problems which may and, indeed, ought, to be pondered by everyone in our society, and to conceive such things as ‘isms,’ thus implying they are distinct systems of thought or practice. In many cases such things are not ‘isms’ at all, but simple ideas: to suggest they are full systems of thought obscures their true nature, and it often suggests they are more robust, coherent, or credible than is actually the case.

For example, I have recently heard much about ‘natalism,’ which in the mouths – or rather, the Substack typeface – of both its critics and proponents is apparently just the idea that people having offspring is necessary for the well-being of their societies. Apparently, those that are concerned by falling birth rates are wracking their brains on how to counteract it, with direct government action being recommended and attempted by some. Those that are less concerned, or who simply like to argue with people who feel civic concern, or who wish to justify their own chosen childlessness, or whatever it is that motivates them in this matter (it is far from clear with many of them) are meanwhile waxing somewhat indignantly about how children are ‘ends, not means,’ and how a utilitarian view of them is mistaken.

The strange particulars notwithstanding, we are in a bad way when something as natural and necessary as reproducing is conceived as some sort of ‘ism’ and made the subject of heated cultural and political debate. Having kids is not an ism but a natural bodily function. Thinking that the human race in general, and one’s immediate nation and family in particular, ought to continue is not an ism but a natural, proper human impulse. Thinking that nations with burgeoning public debts will be in a rough position if their taxpayers decrease in number is simply observing trends and recognizing their future consequences.

There may be room for debate about whether state action ought to be attempted on that point or what it ought to look like, but saying people who think people should reproduce near or above replacement rate are ‘natalists’ is a strange way of discussing the matter; though there would be some justice in accusing some of their opponents of being Malthusians and of having a misanthropic or anti-human streak, and of joining in that bias against children that has reared its head in our society, and thereby demonstrated the unhealthy decadence which afflicts it. However that may be, this whole thing boils down to the idea that it is good when people have kids. Some people might take that simple and obvious truth and run in some strange directions with it, having offspring for sake of Empire or absurd notions of the afterlife (Mormons), while others might expose their selfishness and apathy to the well-being of future posterity by their implicit and practiced opposition to it.

But at base the idea is that it is good when people reproduce. And that by itself is not an ism, and requires quite a lot of subsequent theorizing in tandem with other ideas (the aforementioned Mormon doctrine, or notions that it is a civic duty to produce future workers and soldiers for Empire) to become such. And when that is the case it might be fairly asked whether being ‘pro-birth’ is the essential tenet of such notions, or whether that is but one small, subordinate part of a much larger system of secular or religious social/political thought like imperialism or the so-called Christian Nationalism.

But the most irritating contemporary ‘ism’ is ‘evangelicalism,’ which, as actually discussed, is nothing but a straw man conjured up when someone wishes to play the prophet and sound important.[1] There is a digital cottage industry in criticizing ‘evangelicalism,’ and the grounds on which this is done are about as diverse as the number of people who have found an audience in doing so. I have read scholars fall all over each other attempting to give a definition to it, debating (or assuming) the merit or application of something like David Bebbington’s ‘quadrilateral’ until they have surpassed the realms of both boredom and boorishness in their claims. I have read other, more popular level pundits come along and speak of evangelicalism as though it is one of the most easily-recognized things in our society, as clear as freshly-polished chrome in the noonday sun.

I have read people say that it is not a theological, religious, or ecclesiastical tradition or movement, but a cultural or political one. I have heard others say that the political apathy of many professing evangelicals is one of the things hampering the effectiveness of the conservative political faction in this country and costing victory in the culture war. I have heard people say that it is ruining politics, and I have heard people say that politics is ruining it. I have heard it said that it is the logical end of the Protestant desire for reform, only to turn about and read an Anglican seminary student say that it is not Protestant at all. It is suggested that it is ensnared in our contemporary obsession with individual autonomy; others say that it is a repressive social structure that crushes the individual and her rights. Some say it is too libertine, others that it is too rigid. Some, that it would darken the land under the heel of theocracy; yet others, that it would undermine the beneficent influence of authority. Some say it is masculine, misogynistic, the enemy of women. Others, that it is to be deprecated for its effeminacy, which repels men in droves.

To listen to its critics, evangelicalism is both too traditional and too ahistorical and novel, too individual-exalting and too institutionally-authoritative, too doctrinal and too anti-intellectual, too emotional and too stifling of healthy feeling, hopelessly divided and yet sufficiently unified to be one of the foremost baleful social influences. It has been assailed from within and without, from all directions, and on all grounds. So eager have its critics been to find sticks with which to beat it that they have denuded the forest in their mad search.

And at the end of it all one feels compelled to ask: if evangelicalism is so many mutually-exclusive and contradictory things, how can it be called an ‘ism’ at all? What is its organizing principle or the distinctive feature that constitutes it a clear school or system and separates it from others? And could it be that all this talk of it is, like the talk of so many other ‘isms,’ an attempt to sound like an astute observer that serves rather to muddle our contemporary thinking than to clarify it? That it serves rather to promote someone’s ecclesiastical or political agenda, or their financial interests in selling a book, rather than to promote the truth as such? And could it just maybe, possibly, perhaps be the case that if professing believers put a tenth as much effort into evangelism as into critiquing evangelicalism, things would not be in such a dire state in our nation today?

Tom Hervey is a member of Friendship Presbyterian Church in Laurens County, SC. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not of necessity reflect those of his church or its leadership or other members. He welcomes comments at the email address provided with his name. He is also author of Reflections on the Word: Essays in Protestant Scriptural Contemplation. 

[1] On this point I find myself at odds with my own past habits, for I have elsewhere spoken of ‘evangelicalism,’ even devoting a whole essay to it in my book Reflections on the Word: Essays in Protestant Scriptural Contemplation.