January 13, 2010|1:18 pm
The human species is inherently
and resolutely religious. The Bible and the Christian
tradition affirm this truth, even as we know that the
religious impulse can so easily transform itself into
idolatry.
Even the most cursory look at the world's cultures
will indicate the religious fervor that characterizes
humanity. The only observers who seem shocked by this
universal phenomenon are the secularists and the prophets of
secularization theory who were absolutely certain that
religious faith and religious fervor would disappear in the
modern world.
Needless to say, it hasn't turned out that way. The theory
of secularization is a shadow of its former self. Leading
proponents like Peter Berger of Boston University now
acknowledge that the secularization thesis was not an
accurate predictor of the fate of religious belief in the
modern world. The modern world is not secularized. Indeed,
many of the most heated conflicts around the world today
involve conflicting faiths. As Berger has commented, it
turns out that a few European nations and the American
intellectual elites are the exceptions, rather than the
rule.
And yet, the intellectual elites are not so secular as they
believe themselves to be. As it happens, their religion may
not be theistic, but it is a religion all the same.
That fact is confirmed in a recent article in The Chronicle
of Higher Education.
Stephen T. Asma, a professor of philosophy at Columbia
College Chicago, argues that the new religion of many
secular folk is ecology. As Asma explains, many secular
types suffer from "green guilt."
In "Green Guilt," he writes:
Now the secular world still has to make sense out of
its own invisible, psychological drama-in particular, its
feelings of guilt and indignation. Environmentalism, as a
substitute for religion, has come to the rescue.
Nietzsche's argument about an ideal God and guilt can be
replicated in a new form: We need a belief in a pristine environment
because we need to be cruel to ourselves as inferior
beings, and we need that because we have these aggressive
instincts that cannot be let out.
Asma rightly notes that Friedrich Nietzsche, the nihilist
who famously declared that God is dead, understood that
religion was not dead at all. He "was the first to notice
that religious emotions, like guilt and indignation, are
still with us, even if we're not religious."
These "religious emotions," including guilt, explain why so
many people seek relief
by therapy or treatment of some sort. Therapy replaces theology;
the analyst replaces the minister; psychotropic drugs become
the sacraments; and confessing one's misdeeds on Oprah
substitutes for the confession of sin. Some of the most
obviously religious individuals on earth are those who
genuinely insist that they are free from any religious
beliefs at all.
Asma is not the first to note the deeply religious
character of radical environmentalism, but his analysis of
the structure of this religious system is truly insightful.
He explains:
Instead of religious sins plaguing our conscience, we
now have the transgressions of leaving the water running,
leaving the lights on, failing to recycle, and using
plastic grocery bags instead of paper. In addition, the
righteous pleasures of being more orthodox than your
neighbor (in this case being more green) can still be
had-the new heresies include failure to compost, or
refusal to go organic. Vitriol that used to be reserved
for Satan can now be discharged against evil corporate
chief executives and drivers of gas-guzzling vehicles.
Apocalyptic fear-mongering previously took the shape of
repent or burn in hell, but now it is recycle or burn in
the ozone hole. In fact, it is interesting the way
environmentalism takes on the apocalyptic aspects of the
traditional religious narrative. The idea that the end is
nigh is quite central to traditional Christianity-it is a
jolting wake-up call to get on the righteous path. And we
find many environmentalists in a similarly earnest panic
about climate
change and global warming.
Interestingly, Asma begins his article with an anecdote
about his six-year-old son, who scolded his father for
letting the water run too long. The boy is clearly "stressed
and anxious" about the "sins of environmentalism." The boy
had obviously been indoctrinated into the religious system
of environmentalism -- something common to many of today's
children and adolescents.
Stephen Asma's essay is important for multiple reasons. It
is an excellent analysis of the religious character of
environmentalism, complete with a set of comprehensive
doctrines and religious practices. It is also an excellent
consideration of the religious nature of human beings. Asma
understands the pretensions of the secular mind, and he also
sees the religious impulse working its way to the surface in
the modern obsessions with health, fitness, and an
ever-expanding set of "secular" sins.
At the same time, he writes from an apparently secular
perspective -- at least warning that we do not need yet
another "humorless religion." He is also identified as the
author of Why I am a Buddhist. He seems above all to desire
a bit less religious fervor from the environmentalists. He
writes, "Let us save the planet, by all means. But let's
also admit to ourselves that we have a natural propensity
toward guilt and indignation, and let that fact temper our
fervor to more reasonable levels."
We are left without a clue about what Asma would see as
"more reasonable levels," but his essay offers a rare
glimpse into the religious character of the rather new faith
of environmentalism, complete with its "potential for
dogmatic zeal and obsession." His essay puts an intelligent
spotlight on the new religion of green.
