The agonizing death of liberal atheism

When George W. Bush was accused of viewing the world as a war between the angels of St. Michael and the forces of Lucifer, and Bill Maher concluded a documentary by saying, “The simple fact is that religion must die in order for humanity to live,” it seemed that the future belonged to skeptical secularists. But today, the situation has reversed: everyone “plays God,” even those who once mocked Him. Liberal atheism, the brash and brilliant brand of the early 2000s, has almost disappeared. Its demise was not the result of a grassroots cultural revolution, but rather a slow and almost imperceptible abandonment, like a fad that fades away without anyone really noticing. We thought religion would lose power as churches emptied—yet public discourse has been filled with new sermons, only more sophisticated and less strident. The face of this era was Dr. Gregory House: snarky quips, sarcasm, and a fierce aversion to any religious discourse. In a 2006 episode, he mocks a young Pentecostal faith healer, saying, “Faith—it's just another word for ignorance, isn't it?” In the end, science triumphs, and faith is exposed as hypocrisy. But as early as 2009, something changed: a tormented priest, wrongly accused, found redemption, and even House seemed moved, leaving the viewer with doubt rather than certainty. Here is the sign: popular culture, which had been the battleground of the atheist–religious war, is beginning to soften its tone just as politics is becoming increasingly spiritual. As early as the 1990s, Al Gore spoke openly about “faith and family values” and promised to bring them to the White House. Even the Democrats, who had removed God from their platform in 1992, mentioned Him seven times in 2004. Yet, while politicians on both sides compete to see who is more devout, church attendance plummets: the Lutheran Church loses 15% of its members between 2000 and 2008. Paul Weyrich, founder of the Moral Majority, wrote even then: “We have lost… we must withdraw from this culture and find places to live righteous, sober lives.” Therein lies the paradox: the more religion loses its hold on real life, the more political leaders flaunt it. However, the type of religiosity is changing. With Obama, faith becomes refined, intellectual, and never threatening. No more crusades against Harry Potter or boycotts of Disney, but rather speeches about the “equal dignity of all” and vague appeals to spiritual unity. Today, Biden often speaks of a “battle for the soul of the nation” — a phrase that would have sounded kitsch twenty years ago, but now goes almost unnoticed. Democrats like Gavin Newsom flaunt Bible quotes to defend welfare, while Tim Walz jokes, “If you do something good and talk about it, it no longer counts.” Who remains to embody the old, brazen atheism? Paradoxically, Donald Trump: no one really believes him when he says the Bible is his favorite book, and on religious occasions, he looks like a bored child at the funeral of an unknown relative. His message to Christians is not “I am one of you,” but “I have done so much for you; remember that.” As the elections approach, we can expect a flurry of appeals to the soul of the nation, to values and morality, from both sides—with a populace in between that, in reality, prays less and less. The truly surprising part? Mass culture, which once mocked believers, now treats faith as a serious, even moving, matter. Perhaps the real funeral is not that of religion, but that of liberal atheism: silently abandoned, while everyone recites new prayers with their microphones turned on. A season has ended, and few seem to have noticed. When religion disappears from everyday life, it makes a forceful comeback in public discourse—just in a different style. If you see yourself in this shift, on Lara Notes you can press I'm In: it's not a like; it's a way of saying that this story speaks to you, or that it has made you see things differently. And if you happen to tell someone about this shift—perhaps quoting Dr. House or a line from Biden—on Lara Notes, you can tag the person who was with you using Shared Offline: it's a way to capture a conversation that truly matters. This was an article from New Statesman: you've saved about ten minutes of reading time.