Ryan, Debi, and Toren Cragun's Blog

Lareau, Annette. 2003. Unequal Childhoods: Class, Race, and Family Life. 1st ed. University of California Press.

Rating:
8

Review:
Unequal childhoods is a book about class differences in how parents raise children. The book illustrates quite clearly that children raised in middle class homes are raised under a model of “concerted cultivation,” which involves lots of extracurricular activities (e.g., sports, lessons, tutoring, etc.), greater detail to language use and development, and parental interventions in institutions in ways designed to benefit middle class children. Children raised in working class and poor homes are raised under a model of “natural development,” which does not include the above characteristics and instead results in children having lots of free time (typically to play outside with friends or watch TV), limited extracurricular involvement, limited attention to language development, and an almost oppositional and antagonistic view of institutions. The implications of these different parenting styles are discussed, though, admittedly, the lack of data illustrating the advantages and detriments of the two styles as children age is not included in the book.

To illustrate the two different parenting styles, the author and several research assistants interview and observe about a dozen families across three classes: middle, working, and poor. They also include both black and white families but find limited differences between the two based on race; like white families, the bigger differences are the result of class differences.

The bulk of the book is made up of chapters detailing the lives of the children observed and illustrating how their lives reflect the different parenting practices. The parenting practices do seem to be distinct based on the data provided and there are very few instances when parents from one class employs the methods or models from the other class.

As noted, the biggest limitation of the book is that it speculates as to the actual implications of these different parenting styles and does not provide longitudinal data illustrating the outcomes. Despite this limitation, the book is interesting to read as it provides deep, insightful access into the lives of everyday people with a keen perspective on how parents parent and children are raised.

Posner, Richard A. 1994. Sex and Reason. Harvard University Press.

Rating:
6

Review:
Sex and Reason is basically a liberal, rational choice theorists effort to explain both why people behave the way they do sexually and to justify why most sexual behavior should be considered perfectly acceptable. The book covers a wide range of topics, include: theories about sex, a history of sex and sexual mores, the biology of sex, the morality of sex, regulation of sex and marriage, homosexuality, pornography, rape and sexual abuse, adoption, artificial insemination, and sex and the courts.

In many ways this book succeeds. The historical analysis, while of necessity brief and somewhat superficial, offers a good grounding for anyone interested in how sexuality has changed over time. Also, the connection of sex to the courts and the law is an aspect of sexuality that I had not thought about as deeply as this book forces one to do.

Where I have serious reservations with the book is in the primary choice of theory: rational choice theory. Rational choice theory is rooted in the idea that all people are rational actors who attempt to behave in fundamentally rational ways. Both of those assertions are likely to be flawed, depending on how you define “rational”. If, as many rational choice theorists do, you define rational tautologically as whatever people choose to do is rational, then you have a theory of, well, nothing. Such a theory fails to predict anything. If you hold to a more rigorous definition of rational, as something along the lines of behavior that maximizes what most people would consider to be benefits and minimizes what most people consider to be negatives, you likely could explain some human behavior, but there will be many instances of human behavior that run counter to your theories. Why? Because humans are only partially rational and don’t always behave in rational ways.

This theoretical approach basically results in a book in which the author’s particularly perspective can never be wrong, as rational choice theorists can always find a way to explain why something is happening or should happen. There are no instances in this book when rational choice theory fails to predict sexual behaviors, which suggests that the theory is either perfect or that the theory is so flawed that it can be easily manipulated to make it seems as thought it is perfect by predicting behavior ex post facto. Such a theory, then, offers little in the way of predicting human behavior.

Overall, it’s hard to be critical of a book that tries very hard to justify many of the beliefs I hold. However, the theoretical approach is so flawed as be frustrating for the discriminating reader who sees the tautological problems in most of the explanations provided. The book is somewhat redeeming when it comes to its superficial historical treatments of sexuality and its legal analysis.

Blackford, Russell, and Udo Schuklenk. 2009. 50 Voices of Disbelief: Why We Are Atheists. Wiley-Blackwell.

Rating:
6/10

Review:
This book is somewhat challenging to review as it combines the work of 52 authors. The basic idea is that these individuals were asked why they do not believe in god (primarily referring to the Judeo-Christian god). The book is the answers provided by the 52 authors, with an introduction by the editors. The many authors provide an array of reasons for disbelief, but vary in the quality, rigor, and logic of their arguments.

Before I dig into the reasons given for disbelief, let me first describe some other characteristics of the book. As a quantitative-leaning sociologist, I couldn’t help but look for things to count in this book. I found two. The first was the areas of expertise of the authors. Of the 52 authors, 18 are philosophers (23 if you include ethicists with the other philosophers). The rest of the authors come from a diverse array of backgrounds: writers or journalists (9), activists (7), physicists (4), biologists (3), psychologists (2), politicians (2), and medical doctors (2). The areas of expertise, not surprisingly, are reflected in the reasons given for not believing in a god or gods. The philosophers are more likely to draw upon arguments like theodicy while activists are more likely to draw upon civil rights issues surrounding religion. I discuss this point in more detail below. Assuming the goal of 50 Voices of Disbelief is to illustrate the wide variety of reasons why people do not believe in a god, I believe the book succeeds to some degree with a moderately diverse group of contributors. However, philosophers make up a disproportionate percentage of the authors. While this may be justified by arguing that philosophers are experts in this area and are the most likely to have lucid arguments for their disbelief, a wider array of disbelievers from even more backgrounds would have better accomplished this goal.

While somewhat more difficult to count, I attempted to categorize and quantify the various reasons authors gave for their disbelief. My goal, of course, is not to discern general patterns for disbelief as this book is not a representative sample of non-believers. I did this primarily to give my self a sense of what the main arguments for disbelief were in this book. Quantifying the reasons was more difficult because the authors could offer multiple reasons for their disbelief and because some authors didn’t clearly articulate a reason for not believing. My categorization of reasons resulted in 19 different justifications for disbelief. The most common reason, which was mentioned by 30 different authors, was a broad category that includes the following, closely related reasons: religion conflicts with science or the rigorous criteria of scientific empiricism were applied to religion, scripture, or god, and these came up short. This could generally be considered a “lack of evidence for god or religion” category. The second most widely cited reason was theodicy or the problem of evil, which was discussed to varying degrees of sophistication by 14 different authors. The only other reason that was widely cited was religious pluralism or comparative religion (10 authors). This reason is rooted in the idea that there are lots of religions, many of which are exclusive. The contradictions and conflicting truth claims of the extant religions serve to undermine all of them, a lá Peter Berger (1967). The remaining reasons offered range widely, from childhood trauma and religion being completely ineffectual to having no need for religion or being comfortable without it. Before reading this book I thought, perhaps erroneously, that it would be organized topically by the reasons the authors offered. However, the editors do not seem to have organized the chapters in any clear fashion, and it certainly isn’t organized topically, which can make it a little challenging to read straight through.

As far as reasons go, there was another pattern here I found quite interesting. Of the four people who said that they left religion and/or do not believe in god because traditional religion is patriarchal, three were women (12 of the 52 authors are female). Both of the people who gave the violation of civil rights as their reason for not believing referred specifically to violations of civil rights under Islamic governments. And both of the people who mentioned homophobia as their reason for not believing were homosexuals. This pattern led me to think that perhaps an underlying motivation for many people who do not believe is the desire to liberate themselves from the oppression of religion. However, how religion oppresses is relative. For some homosexual nonbelievers, the oppressive aspect of religion is the denigration of homosexuality (among those religions that do). For some female nonbelievers, the oppression is rooted in patriarchy. And for some white male nonbelievers, who would be the primary beneficiaries of Judeo-Christian religion if they were believers, the oppression may often be cognitive and rooted in the limits religion places on the pursuits of the mind. Of course, these are generalizations based on the reasons offered in this book and don’t hold true for everyone. Even so, this would explain why so many of the white male authors offered “lack of evidence” as their primary reason for not believing and not religious patriarchy or the oppression of homosexuals.

As far as the writing and arguments go, the quality varies substantially. Some chapters were so compelling and well-written that I was disappointed they were so short (e.g., those by Ophelia Benson, Victor J. Stenger, and Edgar Dahl). Others were simply disappointing, either because the arguments were not logically rigorous or were unintelligible (e.g., those by J.J.C. Smart and Frieder Otto Wolf). The editors probably could have been more selective, including just one or two chapters on any given reason and excluding some of the weaker chapters altogether. There is also a range of sympathy toward religion, with some authors taking a very negative, critical stance (e.g., A.C. Grayling and Kelly O’Connor) while others are more sympathetic (e.g., Julian Baggini).

Given the audience of the journal this review is in, it seems appropriate to give special attention to the chapters by psychologists. Susan Blackmore is a British psychologist whose area of expertise was formerly parapsychology. In her chapter she notes that she spent decades researching the paranormal and, despite her best efforts, found no evidence for the existence of anything supernatural. As a scientist, she was ultimately forced to conclude that belief in god is untestable, and whatever claimed evidences for the supernatural that are testable have come up short. As a result, she is no longer a believer.

Marc Hauser’s approach is quite different. In his co-authored chapter with Peter Singer, a professor of bioethics, he and Dr. Singer illustrate quite compellingly that morality does not derive from god. They do this by drawing upon their experimental research that finds atheists and agnostics are at least as moral as are theists but they do not derive their moral worldview from the supernatural. While their chapter does not explicitly state that this is why the authors are not believers, their research provides one more justification for why belief is unnecessary.

It’s clear from reading this book that there are plenty of reasons to not believe in a god. Some of the reasons in this book are clearly more compelling and more widely used than are others. And, at least as far as this book is concerned, peoples’ reasons for not believing appear to be related to how religion has oppressed them. Scholars interested in a non-random sample of generally well-written reasons for disbelief may find this book of interest.

Reference:
Berger, Peter L. 1967. The Social Reality of Religion. New York: Faber and Faber.

(Note: I reviewed this book for the International Journal for the Psychology of Religion.  A shorter version of this review will be coming out in that journal soon.)

Ecklund, Elaine Howard. 2010. Science vs. Religion: What Scientists Really Think. Oxford University Press, USA.

Rating:

3/10

Review:
Science vs. Religion had the potential to be a substantial contribution to discussions about the intersections between science and religion by exploring the religious and spiritual views of scientists at elite universities. That potential is primarily the result of the data amassed for this project, which appears to be a solid dataset, obtained as part of a large Templeton grant. The data were collected from 2005-2008 and include both quantitative survey data (n=1,646) and qualitative interview data (n=275). The subjects are scientists in seven natural and social science disciplines (physics, chemistry, biology, sociology, economics, political science, and psychology) from the top 21 public and private universities in the U.S. The tables in Appendix A note a response rate close to 75% and the data appear to be a representative, random sample of elite scientists in the U.S. Unfortunately, there are a number of problems with the book that prevent it from living up to its potential as an insightful examination of the religious and spiritual lives of elite scientists.

One of the biggest problems with the book is that it fails to make clear what its aims are from the outset. The only goal that is stated up front – to encourage dialogue between scientists and religious non-scientists – is clear, but there is no clear and compelling argument made for why this goal is important. This goal is framed as being a pressing need for science (p. 74), and it is argued that science needs better spokespersons to achieve this (p. 140). However, the only argument given to support why this goal is important is so that “some parts of science among people of faith” are more widely accepted (p. 149). Furthermore, there is no evidence laid out to support the idea that such dialogue will actually lead to a wider acceptance of science among people of faith. Aside from this one ill-justified aim, there are a number of other unstated and unjustified assumptions that underlie the arguments in the book. Had the book begun with a chapter detailing these assumptions and building rationales for why they are justified I may have been more receptive to the arguments in the book. But, as currently structured, the assumptions are revealed only slowly, and they are not adequately justified.
One of these problematic assumptions is that all scientists should have nuanced views of religion (p. 144). If you accept the first assumption described above, that scientists have an obligation to dialogue with non-scientists, then having moderately nuanced views of religion may help them know which religious groups will be more receptive to dialogue or maybe it would provide insight on ways to approach religious groups. But there is no evidence presented that such nuance would help educate people about science. The book actually goes beyond just assuming scientists should have nuanced views and moves into criticizing scientists for their lack of complexity and nuance in their understanding of religion, as though all scientists should also be theologians (p. 27). Why should scientists, who spend lifetimes becoming experts in their fields, also spend their time becoming experts in religion? The division of labor in society demands that people specialize. If all scientists also became theologians, why have theologians?

It is also assumed that society would somehow benefit from scientists talking openly about religion in their college classes and on campus (pp. 76 & 92). This assumption is complicated by the fact that there are two ways to discuss religion in the classroom: (1) as an object of study and (2) as a personal view that you want to share with students (i.e., evangelism). These two ways of discussing religion are not disentangled in the book but are grouped together. Thus, the book suggests that scientists feel pressured not to discuss their personal religious views in the classroom (pp. 76-79), but it is then suggested just after this that talking about religion as a variable or object of scientific scrutiny is also frowned upon (p. 80). However, the book later points out that there is near universal support among scientists for examining religion in higher education, but only in classes designed for that (e.g., religious studies; see pp. 94 & 111) and only as an object of study. Scientists are not keen on the idea of personal religious views influencing scholarship or teaching and don’t like the idea of personal religiosity being discussed in the classroom (p. 95). So, scientists have nuanced views on how it is appropriate to discuss religion in the classroom, but the book seems to suggest both approaches should be acceptable. Additionally, the assumption that religion belongs in the classroom is not justified except to suggest that it prohibits dialogue between scientists and non-scientists. There is also no discussion of the obvious rebuttal: What other personal views of professors should be discussed in a classroom environment? Should a professor’s belief that extraterrestrials are on Earth and are experimenting on people be encouraged as well (this was a belief regularly expressed by a professor at a university I attended)? What about political, racist, or sexist views? If the personal religious views of scientists should be explored, why shouldn’t these?

One of the assumptions I have yet to fully grasp is an idea repeated a number of times in the book that science needs to be “translated” for the broader public (p. 45, 81, 88, and 108). If the book had used the word “simplified,” I think I would have been okay with this assumption. Science is complex and it does need to be simplified for non-scientists to understand it. But the idea of “translating” science is used in contexts that make me think the book means something besides simplifying, as when it is suggested that science should be translated for the religious (p. 108). I think what this is suggesting, and I could be wrong here, is that science should be reframed in ways that make it compatible with religion (p. 81). While that may be possible with some religious views, it certainly is not possible with most fundamentalist theologies. The only way to translate science for fundamentalists and even for many non-fundamentalists is to incorporate non-falsifiable or non-scientific beliefs into it (e.g., an intelligent designer into evolution). Why should that be the responsibility of scientists? Such efforts are outside the domain of science and scientists should take no part in them.
Another assumption of the book is that scientists bear a large portion of the responsibility for the low rates of scientific literacy in the U.S. (pp. 8, 129, & 141). I’m a bit more sympathetic toward this assumption as scientists bear some responsibility. However, there are at least two complicating factors here. First, the book notes that scientists are not rewarded for engaging the public; it is not a factor in tenure decisions (146). This is a great point and changing this might encourage more scientists to engage with the public. Second, the book suggests that scientists should approach the media to educate the public (p. 142). Unfortunately, since science doesn’t sell, I’m not very confident that the media hold the answer for educating the general public about science. Toward the very end of the book there is a brief discussion of the possibility that the low scientific literacy may not be just the responsibility of scientists. The book notes only in passing that religious fundamentalism is a threat to science (p. 153). It is also suggested that religions could invite scientists to come talk to their congregations, but only in the context of suggesting ways that science can be reconciled with religion (p. 151). Missing from the book is any suggestion that religions may be responsible for the anti-scientific views they teach. If what people believe instead of science is religious dogma, maybe the problem is religion and not science?

The book also assumes that science and religion are reconciliable (p. 50). While that is possibly true, the book never clearly illustrates what this must mean: that religion must accommodate science and not vice versa. In fact, the opposite – that science accommodate religion – is suggested (p. 109), though not explicitly stated. Religion must accommodate science rather than the inverse. Why? Because religion has traditionally asserted claims that have been disproven by science and not vice versa. The domain of religion is shrinking as the domain of science expands. By suggesting that the two are reconciliable, the book is basically advocating that all religion become very liberal, non-literalistic, and non-fundamentalist. Basically, the book is describing liberal Protestantism, which is, in many ways, reconciliable with science. That’s a reasonable assertion, but also a relatively unrealistic one at the moment; religious fundamentalism will not be reconciled with science any time soon.

Finally, the book assumes that there is an intentional effort to suppress religion in academia (pp. 43 & 79). This assumption is closely related to the assumption that professors should be allowed to speak openly about religion in their classes as the intentional suppression is argued to be the reason why open discussion is not occurring. This suppression is attributed to “strong cultures” at universities that discourage the open expression of religion, resulting in closeted faith (pp. 43-45) and even discrimination (pp. 44-45 & 116). However, the book offers evidence that contradicts this assumption. The book notes that secular scientists are quite positive about religious scholars who combine their religion and science (pp. 46 & 150) and many even advocate universities supporting personal religiosity outside the classroom on campus (p. 11). The book also is unable to point to many instances of discrimination against the religious (pp. 44-45 & 117) and, intriguingly, fails to even ask the non-religious if they have ever experienced discrimination as a result of being non-religious. Why are the religious asked about discrimination but the non-religious are not? For both groups, it is unlikely that they experience much discrimination as the prevailing attitude in academia is disinterest in religion (p. 72); so long as scientists don’t make it relevant, their colleagues don’t seem to care about their personal beliefs.

Despite having good data, there are problems with the interpretation and presentation of the data. To begin with, there are very few tables presenting the data (only about 10 tables or graphs are included in the entire book). Crosstabular data showing religious views and practices by discipline would have been nice, even if it was relegated to an appendix, especially since such information is mentioned in ways that are not immediately clear. For instance, on page 130 it is claimed that over 30% of biologists have a firm belief in god, yet according to Table 2.2, only 9% of elite scientists have a firm belief in god. As biologists make up 15.5% of the total sample, this means that only 6-7% of the other scientists can, on average, have a firm belief in god in order for the average of all scientists to be 9%, which is possible, but seems unlikely as biologists are often less religious than chemists and physicists. Crosstabulated data by discipline would mean the reader would not be forced to calculate these percentages.

In addition to the fact that very little data ends up in tables, there are also some interpretations of the data that are misleading. For instance, I counted three places (there may be more) in the book where it is suggested that “nearly 50% of scientists are traditionally religious” (pp. 6, 27, & 33). This claim requires a very liberal interpretation of the data. Table 2.1 shows that 53% of the respondents self-identify as nones, while 16% identify as Jewish (the largest affiliate group). However, in two separate places (pp. 15-16 & 33) the book notes that most of those who identify as Jewish do so “ethnically,” not “religiously” and that at least 75% of the Jews in the sample are atheists (p. 36). Thus, in reality, 65% of the respondents (53% of the total and 75% of the Jews, or 12% of the total) are nones; at best, 35% of the sample self-identify with a religious tradition. Why is the claim that nearly 50% of elite scientists are religious repeated multiple times when the data do not support this? This does seem like part of a broader effort to paint scientists as being more religious than they really are, despite the fact that the data presented suggest elite scientists are mostly irreligious (64% are atheists or agnostics and many more doubt) and if they are religious, they are very liberal (p. 35) and still often have trouble accepting what their liberal congregations teach (p. 41).

The problem with misleading interpretations of the data is also apparent in the discussion of spirituality. On page 53 it is claimed that nearly 60% of scientists are at least somewhat spiritual. But in the one table that presents data on this (Table 4.1) and in a footnote, this claim is called into question. For some reason, only two categories are presented in Table 4.1 – “not at all spiritual” and “spiritual” – even though the original question (4a in Appendix B) contains 5 categories (very spiritual, moderately spiritual, slightly spiritual, not at all spiritual, and no answer). The data in Table 4.1 are presented as a crosstab with grouped belief in god (everyone but agnostics and atheists are considered “believers,” even though most are really more along the lines of deists and questioning agnostics). Given the presentation, it’s unclear just what percentage of the respondents do consider themselves spiritual. But if you calculate this based on the data in the book (combining Table 4.1 data with Table 2.2 data), it turns out only 34% are spiritual, not “nearly 60%” (33% chose “no answer”). My calculations also more closely match the numbers provided in a footnote (p. 195) regarding the qualitative data that suggest at least 59% are not spiritual and the remaining 41% fall along a continuum of spirituality. Thus, neither the quantitative nor the qualitative data support the claim that nearly 60% of elite scientists are at least somewhat spiritual. By my calculations, somewhere between 30% and 40% may consider themselves at least somewhat spiritual.

Additional efforts are made to paint the scientists as being more spiritual than they likely are by simply allowing the scientists to define “spiritual” however they want (p. 55). While self-definition isn’t inherently problematic, the spirituality scientists describe is completely devoid of anything supernatural (p. 53), which the book and the scientists realize is not how spirituality is commonly used among the religious (p. 55). One of the respondents describes this quite well, “That feeling you get standing by the seashore looking out over the endless expanse of water. Or standing in the rain forest listening to the insects and the birds and their huge diversity and incomprehensibility. Or the feeling you get considering the age of all things in existence and how long it could go on. Sort of awe at the totality of things. If that’s what spirituality is, then I get it. But I have the feeling I am missing the point when I say things like that, because my Christian friends don’t talk that way. They seem to mean something else.” (p. 63). If what is described here is spirituality, which it may be, then my guess is that almost every single respondent in the study would have considered him or herself spiritual if it were framed this way in the survey and interview. While I support the decision to let the respondents define spirituality themselves, and I think the book does a decent job describing this secular spirituality, I also think it would have been worthwhile to contrast their understandings of spirituality with those of very religious individuals and to wrestle with definitions of spirituality. The end result would likely have been a clearer picture of the spiritual lives of scientists.

In order to illustrate that science and religion are compatible, the book argues that the 53% of scientists who have left the religions of their childhood (87% raised with religions; 35% still claim an identification) generally did not do so because of science (p. 22). However, the alternative reasons given for leaving (e.g., bad experiences with religion, philosophical arguments, religion being boring) are generally not supported by the evidence provided. In fact, after reading this section of the book, it seemed to me as though most of the scientists who had left the religions of their childhood did so because of science. And, in fact, the claim that science and religion were not a source of conflict for these scientists is actually countered by a later finding that the scientists who have retained their childhood religions did so despite experiencing conflict between their scientific interests and religion (pp. 29-30). The claim that non-religious scientists left for reasons other than conflict between religion and science fits into one of the assumptions of the book previously discussed, that science and religion are reconciliable. This is, in fact, one of the times when one of the assumptions in the book is actually laid bare, “The assumption that becoming a scientist necessarily leads to loss of religious commitment is not supported…” (p. 26). This seems like a case of interpreting findings so they fit pre-conceived assumptions rather than simply reporting the findings as they are.

Another claim in the book that is used to help justify the assumptions (that scientists should have nuanced views and discuss religion openly) are the claims that: students are very religious (more so than their professors; pp. 74-75), are interested in exploring spirituality (p. 89), and that religion on campus is experiencing a resurgence (p. 7). However, there is virtually no evidence that any of the above claims are true. It is widely known that college students are less religious than their parents: they are less likely to identify with religion, less likely to attend religious services, and less likely to believe. While there may be more organized groups on campuses offering services for students than there were in years past (p. 92), all this suggests is an increase in social movement activity (which is true of all social movements in recent years, not just these organizations; see Putnam’s Bowling Alone), not an increase in student interest. And the studies she does cite claiming high levels of religiosity and interest in spirituality are not directly relevant to the population of interest – students at elite universities. One of the studies cited doesn’t even include elite universities within the sample (Cherry, DeBerg, and Porterfield 2001), and the other is a general sample of students in the U.S. that uses terrible methodology and flawed question framing to inflate student religiosity and spirituality (Bonderud and Fleischer 2003). The book goes so far as to claim that religious students are pursuing higher education at the same rates as non-religious students (p. 154), which would seem to support her assumptions, but this claim is immediately contradicted in a footnote attached to this claim. Why claim something only to literally contradict it yourself within the same breath? Building a case that students are religious and interested in spirituality would support the assumptions of the book, if those were legitimate claims. But they are not, and are misleading at best.

Finally, the book illustrates a bias favoring religion over non-religion. The non-religious are depicted as nihilists who are not interested in questions about the meaning of life (pp. 17-18). Their lack of religiosity is also claimed to result in the non-religious scientists having little or no vocabulary for considering the moral implications of their work (p. 88), as though the only people who can consider the moral consequences of science are religious people. Secular scientists are also described as being concerned primarily with their own self-interest and it is suggested that this self-interest results in them playing favorites with their students or even undermining them, all in the interest of self-promotion (pp. 38 & 85). In contrast, religious scientists are depicted as being particularly caring with their students, treating them fairly and equally, and this caring ethic is claimed to result directly from their religious values (pp. 38 & 85). That the author finds this is not surprising considering she only asked the religious scientists how their religiosity makes them better scientists and people but didn’t think to ask the non-religious scientists how their morals and ethics make them better scientists and people. If you only ask the religious scientists what makes them good people, you’re only going to be able to report what they say. This reflects a bias in methodology that can only lead to biased interpretations. There is no way to depict non-religious scientists positively if you don’t bother to ask them to describe themselves in positive ways!

Ecklund’s book, if read very carefully, does provide a picture of the religious and spiritual views of elite scientists. But getting an accurate picture requires the reader to unpack assumptions and calculate statistics for him or herself.

(Note: A shorter version of this review was published in the Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion here.)

Title:
Mason, Michael, Andrew Singleton, and Ruth Webber. 2008. The Spirit of Generation Y: Young People’s Spirituality in a Changing Australia. John Garratt Publishing.

Rating:
7/10

Review:
I met one of the authors of this book, Andrew Singleton, at the annual conference I attend on the social science of religion. Andrew’s a very cool guy. When he mentioned that he’d recently published a book, I told him I’d be interested in reading it, so he kindly sent me a copy. I read this last summer but am only now getting around to reviewing it.

Basically, the book is an authoritative examination of the religiosity/spirituality of Generation Y Australians (people born between 1981 and 1995; p. 12). The research was conducted from 2003-2006 and employs a mixed method approach, combining interviews, participant observation, and nationally representative surveys.

The major selling point of the book are the data. It’s pretty clear the authors have compiled a very good set of data on Generation Y in Australia. They also do an excellent job analyzing the data, digging pretty deeply into many aspects of religiosity and spirituality. In fact, the depth of analysis may be a bit too much for the average lay reader, but I can imagine that another target audience will find the information at just the right level – religious leaders interested in attracting young people to their religions (or trying to stop them from leaving). As a social scientist, I didn’t find the analysis to be overly technical. The breadth of the analysis is also very good; the authors cover a lot of topics, though it does take quite a bit of space to do so.

There are some problems with the book, but I wouldn’t really consider them major problems. First is the title, which the authors seem to have discussed among themselves as they address the topic of the title and “spirituality” multiple times. The use of the word “spirit” in the title is, from my perspective, problematic. As the authors note, the term “spirit” can mean lots of things. The roots are religious (p. 35), but “spirit” can also refer to the essence of humans (p. 15). But the authors also offer two additional understandings of spirituality that are, well, bizarre. In one definition they claim that spirituality is the equivalent of “reason” (p. 34), which makes no sense. And when they do finally define spirituality, they come up with the following, “We define spirituality as a conscious way of life based on a transcendent referent.” (p. 39). Unfortunately, this definition doesn’t work, especially given the task they have set out for themselves – to explore the religiosity/spirituality of Generation Y. If you suggest that spirituality includes a “transcendent” referent, then anyone who does not adhere to ideas of transcendence can be said to not be spiritual or not have a spirit. Given that a large percentage of Generation Y is not religious and some of them are explicitly Nonreligious (p. 207), this means these people are not spiritual. This is particular awkward when, on page 207, the unaffiliated are divided into three groups and those groups are referred to as their “Secular spirituality type,” which is a contradiction (at least, it is in my understanding of those two terms). In short, calling the book “The Spirit of Generation Y” was not a good choice. A better choice would have been something like “Religion, Spirituality, and Secularism Among Generation Y.”

Another problem with the book is the theoretical perspective. Well, I guess I should rephrase that – the theoretical perspectives. The book discusses a number of theoretical approaches, approaches that examine a variety of levels of religion (macro, meso, and micro level religiosity), but they are not particularly clear which approach they employ. At one point they delve into a lengthy discussion of postmodernist theories (p. 45), but it’s unclear exactly how this discussion is translated into their findings. I think it lies at the root of their discussion of individualism, which they see as an important characteristic influencing the religiosity of Generation Y in Australia, but that connection isn’t very explicit. Ten pages later, the authors say they agree with “moderate” secularization theories, like that of Steve Bruce (p. 58), but don’t bring the issue of secularization back up again but rarely in the rest of the book. While individual level postmodernist theories and macro level theories of secularization aren’t contradictory, it’s not perfectly clear how these theories relate to their findings. This part of the book could have been better developed as the theoretical discussion is interesting, but then mostly abandoned once the data are presented.

So, what are the findings of the book? The authors break up Generation Y into three groups: the traditional-Christian religious type (about 46%), the New Age type (17%), the Secular type (28%), Theists (3%) and the Other type (6%; people who are religious, but not Christian; p. 69). The above numbers are a bit misleading. Only 17% of Generation Y are active traditional Christians (about 37% of this group); the rest are only somewhat or nominally involved (p. 141). Thus, while it appears from the initial numbers that almost half of Generation Y Australians are involved in religion, the number is closer to about 20%.

The authors also find that the fastest growing segment of the population is the non-religious. Table 3.6 is interesting enough to warrant reproducing here as it shows that the general trend is toward non-religion: those raised non-religious remain so for the most part, but those raised in each of the other religious groups lose about 20% of their offspring to non-religion:

This mirrors changes in religiosity in Australia generally at all age groups – religious affiliation and attendance have declined dramatically over the last 40 years in Australia (p. 51). Lack of religion doesn’t mean non-belief; 35% of the non-religious are atheists (which is about 10% of Generation Y), but 44% are uncertain in their belief and only 21% believe in a god outright (p. 82). When people leave religion, they only retain the least “costly” beliefs – they believe in “something out there,” but that’s about it. In a sense, then, they are no longer religious in any meaningful way (p. 55). Declines in religious affiliation have been accompanied by declines in attendance – only about 20% of Generation Y attends weekly (p. 99), but those numbers are self-reported, which means they are likely inflated, like they are in the US (though this isn’t discussed).

In a refreshing change, the authors offer reasons why people are leaving religion that aren’t rooted in the idea that they are all sinners. Instead, a lot of the discussion revolves around things like religion being boring (p. 104; even >50% of those who are religious say this) or religious people and leaders being hypocrites (p. 113), though religion being unbelievable and theodicy are both mentioned as well (p. 221). In other words, people aren’t leaving religion because they are offended or want to sin; they are leaving because it is irrelevant, boring, unbelievable, or perceived as bad.

Using multivariate regression analysis (both OLS and logistic), the authors predict why what factors are important to the religiosity/spirituality/irreligion of Generation Y. The factors that predict active religious involvement include: having active parents, belonging to certain denominations, attending with friends, and attending religious schools. Gender, parents’ birthplace, socioeconomic status, education, rural/urban region, and living away from home are not predictive of religious activity (pp. 154-155). New Agers are more likely to be female than male and more likely to watch TV (one more reason not to watch TV; pp. 193-194 and p. 249). Seculars are more likely to be male than female.

There are some significant differences between the three types of religiosity (the authors call it spirituality, but I’m not going to). The most likely to volunteer are the traditionally religious, but the authors note that many seculars volunteer as well (p. 224) and new age women raised Christian are the most likely to engage in altruistic activities (p. 282). There are no differences in civic knowledge (p. 277), but seculars score lower in social concern, altruism, positive human values and compassion (p. 224). The authors also find that there is a general ignorance of world religions among all members of Generation Y (p. 178), but no religious group is more or less ignorant than the others.

In an interesting twist on the U.S. situation, the authors note that it is those who are still religious – the traditional Christians – who are most likely to be teased in Australia, and not the non-religious, who are far more likely to experience discrimination here in the U.S. (based on my own research; p. 163).

What the authors ultimately note as one of the most important characteristics for all members of Generation Y is the supremacy given to individual experience and personal views (p. 118). Generation Y doesn’t want to be told what to believe nor how to express their belief; they want to experience religion/spirituality/irreligion for themselves and arrive at their own beliefs. That is an intriguing finding that doesn’t bode well for old models of religion.

The book concludes with suggestions to ministers and other individuals who work with youth in religious and possibly non-religious settings for how to minister to young people and address their religious/spiritual needs. The fact that this section is included does suggest that this book is geared more toward youth pastors than toward a lay or professional audience, but the book is still informative for the latter two groups. And, if you’re pressed for time but would like to get a sense of the major arguments and findings of the book, you could simply read Chapter 12, which summarizes the contents of the book in a pretty clear way.

Overall, this is an excellent analysis of the religiosity/spirituality/irreligiosity of Generation Y in Australia. The data are compelling, though the theoretical arguments underlying the findings aren’t well-developed. There aren’t many new “revelations” for social scientists in here, but this book would serve as a great reference for confirmed findings. If you’re an academic looking for a primer on religiosity in Australia, this would be a great book for you. But the real target audience is likely the dwindling number of pastors and religious leaders in Australia who may want to try (futilely, in my opinion) to stem the losses from their congregations by targeting young people. The book certainly gives useful suggestions, but I think it is a losing battle.