The best that can be said of this book is that the author is preaching to the choir. Phil Christman is a follower of Jesus Christ who has come to see himself as a political leftist and is now evangelizing for the cause. However, given his general approach, he is unlikely to persuade anyone not already onside.
Christman claims that “my Christianity has led me out of conservatism, past liberalism, to the left” (12). What does this leftism consist of? Support for “massive redistribution of wealth (either through alms or taxes), the right of marginalized communities and exploited nations to self-defense, a much-lessened emphasis on punishment-for-its-own-sake and on revenge and a much greater emphasis on harm reduction in our systems of punishment, an abhorrence of war, and an avoidance of the hoarding of wealth and power” (15-16). Christman spends the rest of the book unpacking this collection of priorities.
There is much with which I can agree. I like his long range goal of “private sufficiency plus public luxury” (66). I would also agree that the relative lack of a social safety net in the United States, especially public health insurance, discourages people from taking risks leading to innovation and new ideas (68). But others have made similar observations with more thoroughly documented support. And, of course, few can doubt the destructive character of racism and nativism, the latter of which is tragically in the ascendancy in the United States.
That said, Christman’s general approach is weak. This book is not so much a careful argument as a series of reflections borne of personal experience, including a reaction against “the Calvinist theological orientation of my family and my home church” (4). Like many people who have “deconstructed” their faith—a currently popular term for ordinary disillusionment with ordinary sinners—the author has rediscovered a faith that fits his apparently neurodivergent personality. He still believes in Jesus but is less trusting of institutional religion.
None of this is particularly new or earthshaking. We’ve all read similar stories before. They typically change few minds but function mostly as first-person accounts allowing the authors to get something—or any number of things—off their chests.
As I read this book, I kept wondering whether the publisher, for the sake of balance, might release a book titled, “Why Christians Should Be Rightists.” I can imagine what this would look like: rightists could be said to affirm personal responsibility, healthy local communities and a robust civil society as opposed to statist solutions, an enduring moral order, the protection of human life from conception to natural death, an institutional understanding of marriage as opposed to a mere voluntary partnership, loyalty to country, and so forth. All of these things are genuine goods, I believe, but to group our goods into left and right categories and force us to choose is not an especially helpful strategy.
To be honest, I have never liked the tired classifications of left, right, and centre, whose origin can be traced to the seating arrangement of the French National Assembly in 1789. Since then these labels have succeeded only in muddying the waters and preventing users from probing more deeply into the true character of political ideologies and the programmes that issue from them. What if all political ideologies, however they’re classified, are rooted in idolatry—in making too much of a created good at the expense of other goods, and ultimately at the expense of God himself?
How do we know if we have crossed into ideological territory? If it prompts us to ignore stubborn realities, including reluctant fellow citizens who might not be entirely onside of our own fallible agendas. The British political scientist Sir Bernard Crick defined politics as the peaceful conciliation of diversity within a particular unit of rule. People naturally disagree with each other, but we must find ways to live together short of civil warfare. Christman seems to understand this in part, but then he claims that we need to “[f]igure out how we can live decently and modestly together while beating back nativism and ethnic chauvinism” (133, emphasis mine). How does he propose to do this without actually taking the time to learn what fears motivate people to embrace nativism? His further claim that Americans will have to absorb huge numbers of immigrant refugees who may largely replace the native population is scarcely likely to reassure the sceptical. At that point, what is left other than coercion?
Christman again: “I don’t worry about cultural change as such” (134). Obviously cultures do change, and such change is never entirely within our control. However, most of the goods that we value, such as the rule of law, constitutional governance, and democratic institutions, are rooted in supportive political cultures and the tacit assumptions—dare I say traditions—underpinning them. Even Christman’s vaunted socialist alternative depends on a particular culture influenced by the likes of Karl Marx, the British Fabians, the labour movement, and ultimately notions of fairness rooted in—yes, indeed—institutional Christianity! Remove these and watch the goods he values slip away. A better understanding of the limits of politics and the importance of culture might prompt Christman to alter his agenda accordingly. Short of this, it could turn out, despite his intentions, to be a recipe for just one more form of tyranny.
Note: This review was submitted to Christian Courier, which declined it due to its editorial policy of not carrying reviews of books the reviewer does not recommend. For the record, I agree with this policy, so I am publishing it here instead.
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