[Note: This essay was originally published in three parts on March 1st, 17, and 24, 2023. It was revised and republished in Free Inquiry as "The Boundaries of Secularism: Who's In? Who's Out?" in the Oct/Nov 2023 edition (Vol 43, no. 6)]

Part I

Depending on the source, the “nones” (people who identify with no religion in particular) comprise between one-quarter to three in ten of the United States adult population. We know that the nones are heavily Democratic-leaning in their voting patterns.

In the late 2000s and early 2010s, it was common to use the caveat “most nones are not atheists.” But this seems to be a bit of an exaggeration. Indeed, the nones are not all atheists, but it is simultaneously not true that most nones are believers. Or at least, believers in the Abrahamic God most of us are familiar with. Furthermore, regardless of beliefs, the question is whether these nones are friendlier to religion than to secularists.

What the data says

The 2020 Secular Voices Survey conducted by Socioanalítica Research suggests that most nones are “practical atheists.” By this, I mean that many nones may not identify as atheists but have similar attitudes and behaviors. Let’s take a look.

The Secular Voices Survey was conducted in September 2020 among over 2,000 respondents, including more than 600 nonreligious adults. It has questions about the 2020 elections, as well as questions about trust in institutions and attitudes toward groups in the United States. There are also batteries about religious beliefs and behaviors.

The chart above shows responses to four questions about religious beliefs, attitudes, and behaviors among the nones. The black bars represent the answers of all nones, including people who say their religion is either atheist, agnostic, or they have no religion. The orange bars represent people who say their religion is atheist. The purple is respondents who identify their religion as agnostic, green bars are those who identify as just having no religion.

The first question asks respondents how much confidence they have in organized religion. About two-thirds of the nones say they have very little or none. This ranges from 72% of atheists to 62% of those who do not have a religion. Thus, distrust of religion among the nones is prevalent among most. The difference is more a matter of degree than kind.

The same happens with behavior. Three-quarters of the nones say that they seldom or never attend religious services. There are no differences between atheists(74%), agnostics (76%), and those who identify with no religion in particular (75%).

The last two questions I’m including are about belief. The first question asks what is respondent’s source of morality and guidance while the second asks what they believe about the existence of God.

The chart shows responses to the option “religious teachings and beliefs.” Just eight percent of all nones look to religion for moral guidance. This is very low considering that almost two-thirds of the cohort comprises those who say they have no religion, and only one-third are atheists or agnostic. The chart confirms that atheists (5%), agnostics (8%), and people with no particular religion (8%) are very similar in this regard. For comparison, nearly seven in ten white evangelical Protestants (69%) look up to religious teachings and beliefs for moral guidance.

Finally, how many nones believe in God? Fewer than one in five (17%) believe in “a personal God.” Only three percent of atheists and seven percent of agnostics are theists. Nearly one-quarter (24%) of people who do not identify with a religion are theists. White evangelical Protestants are most likely to believe in a personal God (84%).

Even if they do not identify as atheist or agnostic, the nones have no confidence in religion, do not practice religion, and don’t look to religion for guidance. The difference is higher levels of belief in God, but even what “god” means is unclear. It doesn’t seem that many nones share the same god with, for example, white evangelicals.

These facts matter for building organizations. The “nothing in particulars” are the largest cohort among the nones. Many are nonbelievers; half believe there is no God or have doubts about its existence. But as far as I know, major secular organizations have no “nones” caucus. It would be best to be fairly sure about your atheism or agnosticism to join. I don’t necessarily mean membership requirements, but the type of person attracted to join.

Even though we have had a secular boom this century, the nones have not achieved much political power, such as gaining elective office. The nones are an organic voting bloc. While most vote similarly, they have done so with little organization. Imagine what could be possible if we could harness the energy of this young, growing cohort if we didn’t get tangled up in minor theological debates.

Part II

In the early 2010s, when I was still working at Trinity College’s Institute for the Study of Secularism in Society and Culture (ISSSC), the question of why the nones -then 15% of the adult population- weren’t better represented in politics was often asked in conversations I had. As I have explored in earlier articles, the situation has improved in the past decade, but there’s still a lot of room for improvement.

At the time, about one-in-six adults in the U.S. were nonreligious and growing. Theoretically, the secular movement could transform the political landscape with a well-executed outreach strategy. But in the era of New Atheism, much of the leadership was more interested in gatekeeping and would prefer not to engage with the “spiritual but not religious” crowd. Instead of building a movement that capitalized on the growing distrust of religious institutions, outreach campaigns of the era doubled down on godlessness with vague and counterproductive billboards.

It was weird to double down on atheism because most people have no issues with God because it does not exist. Many “nones,” as the nonreligious are usually called, believe in what I call “fuzzy theism.” They may believe in some higher power, though it is not clear that it also means that the higher power can influence events on Earth. This higher power is likely neutral or good in some vague way or maybe a force or energy that binds us. As I said in part one of this post, they are “practical atheists.” Even when they believe in the supernatural, that supernatural is not likely to be the cranky and fearful Yahweh.

Millions of people realized they did not identify with or care about religion. Many were people raised in interfaith households that rarely discussed religion as a means to keep the peace. Others were raised nominally religious, maybe baptized, but rarely, if ever, practiced it. And others left religion, either because it was useless (they realized there’s no God) or the experience harmed them.

In the previous decades, the Christian Right had wedged itself to power by taking over the Republican Party. The raw dominionist ideology we now label Christian Nationalism was boiling in there. The height of the Catholic Church abuse scandals was a recent memory. September 11 was still in the minds of many people. In other words, religion, whether it was different strands of Christianity or Islam, was facing a crisis of trust. The people leaving religion were not rushing to join more liberal or inclusive congregations. Many were taught that “God is good” but saw that God’s representatives weren’t as much. People didn’t have an issue with God; they had an issue with religion.

Unfortunately, the era’s strategy was to focus on, ironically, “religious atheists.” The group that answers that their religion is “atheist” in surveys. Even when the era’s main source of religious data (Pew’s 2014 Landscape Survey) showed that the “nothing in particulars” included many nonbelievers and even more skeptical of religious practice, furthermore, the “religious atheist” contingent was, and still is, mostly comprised of white men. Thus, doubling down on atheism hindered the diversity of the communities. Even when the language of diversity was spoken, the programming based on discussions about the existence of God and making fun of religion wasn’t going to attract faces much different from the ones already in attendance. The movement is changing; some organizations like American Atheists, Atheists United, and the Center for Freethought Equality are doing excellent work in broadening the networks the secular movement relates with. But we essentially wasted a decade pandering to an audience there already without seriously understanding the sectors where growth was most likely to come from.

Part III

Last Friday, team Puerto Rico lost to team Mexico in the World Baseball Classic. On Monday, Japan dramatically defeated Mexico in their last at-bat in the bottom of the ninth inning. Japan ultimately won the tournament, its third title in six tournaments, in a thrilling victory over team USA.

Like any good baseball fan, I practiced various rituals to help Puerto Rico defeat Mexico, but their efficacy declined. I tried other rituals to help Mexico keep its margin over Japan to no avail. Here, I want to apologize for my role in those defeats.

If you’re a fellow atheist, you may think it is silly to apologize for two events I did not influence. You may think that I was performing useless acts of superstition. And, my friend, you would be right. Despite knowing this, I cannot help it. I’m very superstitious when it comes to baseball. My spouse thinks it is funny how I throw my rationality out the window when I watch baseball (at least baseball games where I care about the outcome).

I’m unsure if, after this confession, I have to return my atheist card (I lost it the last time I moved anyway). But I often think about my baseball superstitions when thinking about secular communities.

How often do we make people feel unwelcome in our meetings or events because we spend a significant chunk of time making fun of the religious or any kind of belief? How much “belief” are we willing to tolerate? What is belief anyway?

A few years ago, watching the documentary “Mucho, Mucho Amor” about the late Puerto Rican astrologer Walter Mercado, I went down memory lane. I never missed Walter’s segments in the various shows he would present his weekly or monthly horoscopes. I remember watching it with my grandma. None of us, my born-again Christian grandmother, or I thought that horoscopes were a thing, but Walter was an amazing showman; his thing was the delivery, not the message. I never watched any of his so-called competitors. And, of course, today, I’m a devotee of Check-in Mela, a fellow Puerto Rican following on the steps of Walter and who writes very amusing predictions.

We get worked up about our “superior brains” and our cult of rationality. And forget that much of life doesn’t make sense or that it is okay to be silly. However, politically, it is one of our major liabilities when we fail to build coalitions with other religious communities because we object to their beliefs. Even worse is when we mock how dumb religious people are, especially those militant fundamentalists. Except those militant types are very good at organizing and running for office.

Many of those militant religious types despise each other. Many evangelicals think Catholics and Mormons are destined for hell (and vice-versa). But they have built these strong alliances to set up a theocracy in the U.S. If they complete their vision, they’ll fight each other. In the meantime, they’re cool oppressing or planning to oppress everyone else.

Most of the nones are not unbelievers like people in atheist communities. But that doesn’t mean they have nothing in common with us; most are functional atheists. Is it that bad if people read horoscopes or practice reiki? Moving on to alliances, is it so bad to work with other religious people who are fighting the same fundamentalists we are?

I want our movement to think deeper about who our allies are and who are members of our community. Moreover, we need to rethink what being an unbeliever means and what types of “belief” we are willing to accept in our midst and ally strategically with. With that said, I wish you mucha paz, pero sobre todo, mucho, mucho amor.

Source: Wikimedia Commons