Against "Worldview" as Ideology
why this matters for engaging critical theories, and why we don't measure up to the Puritans...
A recent, important thread from fellow Substacker and professor of theology at Tyndale College, Craig Carter:
There’s a lot wrapped up in Dr. Carter’s thread and central distinction (via Bavinck via Bolt).
But it recalled two things: First, how much I detest contemporary theology’s obsession with epistemology which, as Dr. Carter noted, stems from the diminished confidence in philosophy’s ability to discern reliable, stable truth—a product of the Enlightenment so-called. Much of what Dr. Carter is saying above will rub some evangelicals the wrong way for that very reason. They’re accustomed to always and everywhere demanding the great accounting, the epistemic basis, for truth claims, and there concludes their positivist analysis.
Second, and what I’d prefer to dwell on, is what Perry Miller, in the first volume of The New England Mind, said in describing the richness and eccentricity of the Puritan intellectual heritage:
"For the content of their belief… the Puritans… drew freely upon the stores of knowledge and the methods of thinking which were then available to educated men… Piety did not inhibit the Puritan scholar from adventuring upon them. True, he surveyed them in a thoroughly didactic spirit, and exercised critical wariness lest in his travels he be lured into accepting as fact what might in reality be the fancy of a depraved mind… He could be both selective and eclectic without seeming to do violence to any field of knowledge, without seeming to suppress any idea merely because it was at variance with his creed… [but] whatever teachings were incompatible with his religious beliefs he could exclude, not on the grounds merely of that incompatibility, but by objective and rational demonstration of their falsehood, demonstrations which he did not believe his enemies ever succeeded in disproving. Being a Protestant, he had the vast literature of Protestantism to supply the main outlines of his system; yet because he lived a century after Luther and Calvin he could view the first reformers in perspective, go beyond them or dissent from them when he had reason or Scripture to warrant him. Being an Englishman, on the edge of the Protestant world and always a little remote from his continental brethren, he could select what he saw fit from the works of Dutch, German, or Swiss Calvinists, and meanwhile take up from indigenous traditions, particularly from English legal and political theory, whatever supported his contentions.”
Miller goes on to incorrectly suggest that the Puritans “revolted” against the scholastic tradition, but nevertheless recovers from this exaggeration by rightly acknowledging that the “immense accumulation of scholastic thought… lay before [the Puritan] like an Aztec city before the plunderer.” The Puritan was “still exhilarated by the revival of learning.” And Miller, again rightly, notes that “Erasmus was as much his intellectual progenitor as Calvin,” though in different ways. (See Margo Todd’s Christian Humanism and the Puritan Social Order.)
Miller continues, “[H]e could seize upon the spoils of he heathen to furnish trophies of Christianity.” This is, of course, the familiar “mining the Egyptians” aphorism. Doubtless too Miller has in mind the idea commonly held by Puritans that what wisdom Plato and Aristotle, et al. had garnered, it was ultimately derivative, maybe even directly so, of what God had delivered to Israel. (This is not to say that the Puritans, on the whole, did not maintain a robust conception of natural law, etc.)
“Finally, because his theology taught that whatever was practically useful was contrived in the providence of God, he could welcome without trepidation advances in logic or method, in science or invention, once these demonstrated their utility. Thus the Puritan scholar in the first half of the seventeenth century ranged at will through the spacious chambers and hoarded treasures of a rich intellectual inheritance…. He was ready to appropriate whatever advanced his creed or served his piety from whatever source it might come.”
Now, to be clear, the Puritan intellectual attitude was not quite so fluid as Miller’s colorful—and beautiful; historians rarely write as well as Miller—may imply. But, and this is the point, neither was it so mundane or rigid.
The inquisitive, fearless intellectual posture of the Puritan is admirable but we must recognize that it was coupled with, and enabled by, rigor and doctrinal fidelity. One give rise to the other and protects against a multitude of pitfalls. We no longer possess the intellectual tools of the 17th century man; we must be extra careful.
To paraphrase what Michael Lynch recently said, for many reasons, we simply don’t create people like what Miller describes today. We don’t have the range and the background that instills the self-confidence necessary for the Puritan style intellectual life. This is why contemporary pastors are, in general, terrible at commenting on public matters, politics, law, etc. Clergy in the 17th century were often the leaders in such discussions, and they did it well. Natural science, philology, philosophy, law, politics were all within their expertise, at their disposal, (to some extent) interconnected. This doesn’t mean that everything about the period was roses, but it must’ve been unrivaled for its intellectual stimulation.
Even if we can’t hope to measure up—kids in 17th century Massachusetts had more scripture memorized and possessed a better grip on their systematics by the time they were teenagers than most lifelong pew-sitters do now; and they knew more Greek and Latin before they entered college than the average seminarian does, had read more classical literature than the typical westerner now reads in a lifetime, and so on—we can endeavor to emulate the mood, the approach of the Puritan, controlling for some of the discrepancies just mentioned.
And this brings us back to what Dr. Carter was talking about in his thread. The intellectual mood of our forbears was one of confidence in the truth and, therefore, fearlessness in approaching, well, anything.
A Tablet article by Blake Smith surveying the work of Stanley Fish accurately captures Fish’s contention regarding free speech or lack thereof (today), viz., that for John Milton, whom Fish commented on extensively, and men of his era, the stability and attainability, and certainty in the ultimate triumph of truth, produced the zeal and intelligibility for freedom of speech—that is, freedom from prior restraint in publication.
The Puritans, as characterized by Miller, possessed this same confidence and concomitant intellectual freedom. We should still seek to perpetuate that, it is severely lacking today. What Dr. Carter is getting at in his thread is the current intellectual mood of many Christians, contra that of that of the 17th century, wherein information, truth claims derived from a non-Christian “worldview” are dismissed out of hand. This is to consider “worldview” as ideology.
This ingrained impulse will, and has, greatly inhibited the Christian response to things like critical social theories as they make inroads into Christian circles.
To be clear, I consider critical theories to function as religions (i.e., critical social justice). I think the lion’s share of ideas imbedded therein are antithetical to Christian commitments. But the “worldview” as ideology approach to combatting them will ultimately prove unconvincing and ineffectual. What is required is thoughtful, critical engagement, careful parsing.
I’ve noted before, at my Patheos blog, that the use, not merely the invocation, of ideas from critical theory must be thoroughly examined before judgment can be cast on said use. One example I employed was that of Patrick Deneen in his bestselling, Why Liberalism Failed. Deneen is a devout Catholic and conservative. And yet, he cites Erich Fromm several times. Fromm, of course, was an early member of the Frankfurt School, a critical theorist.
Those who operate within the “worldview” as ideology paradigm would be inclined to dismiss Deneen based on this use of a critical theorist. And yet, it is patently obvious that Deneen is using Fromm in a limited way. (It helps too that 1) the Frankfurt Schoolers were far more interesting and sophisticated than our contemporary theorists, and 2) that Fromm was the most fascinating of them all; his Beyond the Chains of Illusion is a highly beneficial comparative study of Marx and Freud, and his Escape From Freedom contains myriad true and valuable insights into modernity.) In any case, Deneen uses him for a singular insight, and in a qualified sense.
Again, and to be clear, I think dabbling in critical social theories and attempting to integrate the commitments and claims thereof with one’s theology is a dangerous endeavor (as I’ve written about extensively). But the appropriate plan of attack is not the “worldview” as ideology dismissal maneuver. Rather it is to meet critical theories in the field head on. It is to discern their actual claims, parse what is true and untrue, and confront each accordingly.
The best way, the only way, to rid our institutions of the influence of critical theories is not to simply dismiss them as extra-scriptural, unChristian worldview that allegedly debase the sufficiency of scripture. This argument falls flat and reinforces the embattled persecution complex that so many adherents of contemporary critical theory operate with, and thereby assures them of the reality and righteousness of their cause. Christian theology has historically incorporated metaphysical Aristotelian categories, for instance. Why not critical theory ones? What must be demonstrated is that the assumptions, analysis, and conclusions of critical theories are untrue, half-baked, and undesirable or unworkable given our preexisting commitments.
I describe critical theories as fundamentally Marxist, or rather neo-Marxist, not to summarily dismiss them, but to, on my reading, accurately express their intellectual genealogy so that we might establish sure footing to engage them. Others who identify the same source, an admittedly poisoned well, have less irenic aims in mind. This approach only entrenches the proponents of the ideology being combatted. To create any movement—indeed, the discussion seems to be at a standstill—the particular and unique ideas of critical theories, most relevantly critical race theory, must be teased out and refuted directly and specifically. This, by in large, is not being done. It needs to be. Perhaps, rediscovering the Puritan intellectual mood (and content thereof) would help.
This doesn’t imply that we would become mealy mouthed and complacent in a live-and-let-live sort of way. Rather it would increase both confidence and precision in our engagement. It is not to adopt an eat the meat, spit out the bones approach that so many wantonly appeal to. I am not at all confident that that can be truly and safely done with critical theories, the logic of which is fairly comprehensive, the conclusions demanding. But it is to approach said theories with the demeanor of something other than a bull in a china shop.
Some insights of critical theorist are, of course true, as with any theory. This fact isn’t particularly unique or impressive. But the analysis of the problem(s), and more importantly, the solution to social ills (all of which are reduced to matters of relative power dynamics) is exceedingly flawed and simplistic; the methodology of inquiry is haphazard and confused. Proving this is where the battle will be won.