In a
post here a few days ago, I broke down the demographics of the vote that
elevated Donald Trump to the Presidency. Following research from such
luminaries as Robert
P. Jones, I pointed out that Trump won the election on the strength of the
white Christian vote. Here, I’m not talking merely about the white evangelical vote—it’s already been heavily
reported that Trump swept the board with white evangelical voters. What
hasn’t received sufficient attention is how well Trump did with all varieties of white Christians,
including white Catholics and white mainline Protestants. My rough estimate is
that Trump won the overall white Christian vote by roughly a 2:1 margin, while
he lost the vote of all other race-religious groups by that same 2:1 margin. Of
particular note is how Clinton won an estimated 72% of the American Jewish
vote, illustrating a significant Jewish-Christian political
divide.
In response, Anthony posted a piece on my blog site
making a number of interesting arguments. Anthony pointed out that if we
consider world Christianity, then
only 2.3% of all Christians voted for Trump. Of course, by the same token, less
than 2.3% of Christians worldwide
voted against Trump. I’ll concede
that global Christianity wasn’t given much of a say in our election. Anthony’s other
argument is that close to half of eligible Americans did not vote at all in
2016, meaning that considerably less than 2/3 of American white Christians
voted for Trump. Unfortunately, as I already pointed out in my last post, white
Christians turned out to vote in relatively high numbers compared to the rest
of us; if Anthony wants to avoid election of candidates like Trump in the
future, he might urge instead that more white Christians stay home on Election
Day.
divide.
Anthony returned to his global perspective at the end of his
piece, asking me to consider whether Jews worldwide opposed Trump in the same
numbers as American Jews. The short answer is, I can’t account for all those
Jews. I don’t have any way to gauge how the Jews of France (roughly 450,000 of
them), Canada (400,000) or the U.K. (300,000) might have voted if they’d miraculously
been granted U.S. citizenship (and, I might have wished, been given ballots to
vote in Michigan,
Pennsylvania and Wisconsin). My rough guess is that these Jews don’t
like Trump any better than other French people, Canadians or Brits, but
these Jewish populations (the third, fourth and fifth largest populations of
Jews worldwide) aren’t large enough for anyone to bother to poll. At this point
in Jewish history, more than 80%
of Jews worldwide live in either the United States or Israel … so when
Anthony asks about non-American Jews, he’s really asking me to consider the
opinion of Israeli Jews. During the 2016 campaign, Israelis
favored Hillary Clinton by about the same 2:1 margin we saw in the U.S. for
non-Christians. Since the election, Trump has proven to be relatively popular
in Israel—mostly reflecting that Israelis think Trump is good
for Israel. I’m not sure what our election says about Israeli Jews, or
Bolivian Christians for that matter, just as I don’t know what my favorable
opinion of Justin Trudeau and Angela Merkel says about me.
[By the way … Israeli opinion is not the same as Jewish-Israeli
opinion. Some 21% of Israeli citizens are Arab, and other 4.5% are non-Jewish
non-Arabs. I have no data distinguishing how Israeli Jews and non-Jews view
Trump.]
Let’s end our world tour and return to the question I raised
in my original post (which as I pointed out, was first raised by Anthony
himself): how could so many white American Christians have voted for Trump? Or,
as I put it in my post, how could so many white American Christians have voted
for a person who seems to contradict every value I might associate with
Christianity (humility, honesty, empathy, kindness and generosity)? The easy
answer, the one I pointed to in my last post, is status quo: white
Christians vote Republican. But there’s evidence that white Christians did
not participate in this election in a status quo way. The voter turnout percentage for non-Hispanic
whites in 2016 was the second-highest
measured since 1988—this despite the fact that the religiously unaffiliated
(who are mostly white) voted in relatively low numbers (the “Nones” made up 15%
of the 2016 electorate, compared
to 25% of the general population). So if we measure voter interest by voter
turnout, then white Christians voted for Trump with near-record enthusiasm. We
can see this most clearly in the white evangelical vote—white evangelicals made
up 26%
of the electorate in 2016, same as 2012, even though the white
evangelical percentage of the U.S. population is in decline and is
considerably less than 26%.
Where else should we look for an explanation for strong
white Christian support for Trump? In Christian circles, much of the blame
falls on Hillary Clinton, who is seen as a historically
terrible candidate from a certain white Christian point of view. But much
of the white Christian opposition to Clinton seems
horribly overblown, and there’s no explanation for why Clinton (a
practicing Methodist and former member of her church’s altar guild) should
have been regarded as a mortal threat to Christianity. White Christians may
have objected to Clinton’s political views, but these views were squarely in
the Democratic
Party mainstream, and it’s hard to see how these views were all that
different from those held by previous Democratic Party nominees for President.
I’ll grant that voters increasingly
express unhappiness with politics in general and speak as if they vote for
the lesser of evils … but this is a trend that predates the nomination of Trump
and Clinton. No … the enthusiastic white Christian support of Trump speaks to interest
in Trump, every bit as much as antipathy for Clinton.
We might ask whether there is something in Christian belief
(for example, a low
view of human nature) that leads Christians to support candidates like
Trump. But I’m going to reject this idea quickly, because Christians of color did
not support Trump. I’m ready to be corrected, but I don’t know of any schism
between Black and white American Christian religious belief that might have led
one group to vote Clinton and the other Trump. We can then ask whether Trump’s
white Christian support was based on his appeal to white people. But again …
while we do need to seriously
consider Trump’s appeal to white voters, I need to emphasize how Trump’s appeal
was limited to white Christians. White
Jews (in the U.S., 90%
of Jews are considered white) rejected Trump in large numbers. And the
largest group of white non-Christians in America, those without religious
affiliation (often referred to as “Nones”), mostly rejected Trump as well.
Let’s talk a bit about the Nones. Racially and ethnically, Nones
represent a reasonably
typical American mix: about 68% of Nones are white, 9% are Black, 5% are
Asian, 13% are Latinx and 4% fall into another category. Compared to the
general population, Nones skew a bit more white than average, are more male
than female, are more likely than the average American to be unmarried, and seem
to favor life on the west coast over that in the South.
One fact that distinguishes Nones: they are by far the fastest
growing religious group in America. Over the past 25 years, the number of
Nones has more than quadrupled, from around 6% to 25%.
Where are all these Nones coming from? Mostly, from the ranks
of white Christianity. The vast majority of Nones were raised with some
religious affiliation but have given it up. Nearly two-thirds of Nones were
raised in either Catholic (38%) or white mainline Protestant (26%) households.
More than 1-in-10 were raised white evangelical Protestant (14%) or in some
other Christian faith (11%). While we don’t have a racial breakdown of those
Catholics who have become Nones, we can surmise that most of them are white, as
American
Catholicism is rapidly becoming a religion of color: roughly 34% of U.S.
Catholics are Hispanic today, compared to 10% in 1987.
The trends identified above come into sharper focus if we
examine them generationally. The below
chart shows the sharp decline in religious observance as we move from older
to younger generations, in every religious group measured other than
historically Black Protestants:
And if you’re thinking that Millennials will join the church
as they get older, get married and have children … there’s simply
no evidence for such a “religious life cycle.” Instead, the number of Nones
in each generation is increasing over time, not decreasing. Few (7%) Nones even
express
an interest in looking for a new religious home. The decline in religious
affiliation shows no sign of reversing, or even slowing down.
What do the Nones have to do with our main question, about
why white Christians so enthusiastically supported Trump? The explanation
begins with the advent of the American Religious Right. For this discussion,
I’ll rely heavily on American Grace, the seminal 2010 study by Robert Putnam and
David Campbell on religious life in contemporary America. According to Putnam
and Campbell, the rise of the American Religious Right can be dated to the
mid-1970s, when Americans unhappy with the sexual revolution of the 1960s
reacted by embracing religious identity and church attendance—and the church
preferred in this “aftershock” was mostly conservative and evangelical
Protestant. Astute evangelical leaders like Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell
drew on this religious fervor to create the Religious Right, aligning
conservative Protestantism with conservative, Republican politics.
But the advent of the Religious Right triggered a
counter-reaction of its own, beginning in the 1980s and becoming more evident
by the 1990s, where the marriage of conservative religion and politics grew
increasingly suspect. In 1980, Americans said they’d be more likely to vote for
an evangelical candidate for President; by 1988 the majority of those polled
said just the opposite. The number of Americans agreeing strongly that
religious leaders should not try to exert influence on government decisions
nearly doubled between 1991 and 2008. Symbols of the religious right, like
Falwell and the Moral Majority, came to be viewed unfavorably by most voters,
and “Christian fundamentalists” were increasingly identified with an unwelcome conservative
ideological intervention in American politics. And significantly, the group
that most strongly embraced this view of the Religious Right was the newly
emerging group of Nones.
One might guess that the Nones began their dramatic growth
during the upheaval of the 1960s, but in fact the 1960s produced a very small
downtick in religious observance. It was not until the 1990s that Nones began
their meteoric rise into national prominence. For the authors of American Grace, the timing of this
ascent is no coincidence—it coincides both with the trend to view the Religious
Right negatively and with a dramatic,
more liberal shift in American opinion on such “culture war” issues as
marijuana and homosexuality. Significantly, this shift in opinion was and is
most pronounced (as was and is the growth of the Nones) among young Americans.
When surveyed, Nones give a myriad of reasons why organized
religion no longer speaks to them. 16% of Nones surveyed indicate that an
important reason for leaving their childhood religion was that their church
or congregation “became too focused on politics.” A full 29% of Nones cite
“negative religious teachings about or treatment of gay and lesbian people” as
a reason they gave up religious affiliation. Notably, women
and ex-Catholics are about twice as likely as other Nones to cite treatment
of gays and lesbians as a primary reason they left the church.
More often, Nones say that they’ve left the church because
of their “lack
of belief.” But in most cases, the belief lacking is not that in G-d; fewer
than 1/3 of Nones describe themselves as atheist or agnostic, 30% say
they’re absolutely certain they believe in G-d or
a universal spirit, and another 38% profess this same belief with less
certainty. When asked for explanations
for their “lack of belief,” Nones surveyed will mention “culture war” issues
such as church teaching on evolution, a preference for “rational thought” and a
lack of belief in miracles. What’s evident is that Nones express a conventional
confidence in science, in distinction to an evangelical church that denies
climate change, promotes “intelligent
design”, invests $100 million to illustrate the literal truth of the Noah’s Ark story,
and teaches that there were dinosaurs on that Ark.
[OK, I’ll grant that the Noah’s Ark people are probably a
bit fringe-y even in white evangelical circles.]
Putnam and Campbell make the point explicitly: white American
Christianity is doing a good job retaining its politically conservative
congregants. It’s moderates and liberals (particularly young white moderates and liberals) who are fleeing the church to
join the ranks of the Nones. And for reasons I cannot explain, Christians who
have left conservative Christianity have not opted in significant numbers to
join more liberal churches; they’ve instead left organized religion altogether
to join the ranks of the Nones. Here, finally, is my explanation for why white
Christians supported Trump so enthusiastically: the ranks of white Christianity have been drained of many who might
have opposed Trump had they remained Christians. The rise of the Religious
Right, and the reaction against the Religious Right represented by the growth
in the numbers of Nones, has effectively divided what was once a more
politically diverse group of white Christians into what is today one group of
mostly conservative Christians and a second group of mostly liberal
ex-Christians. If not for this divide,
white American Christendom would have been more lukewarm when it came to Trump.
I should take a step back. There are other explanations we
can give for the rise of the Nones; clearly, politics is not the only reason
for this phenomenon. Moreover, I’ve ignored here how Nones are likely to become
more liberal after they’ve left the
church, under the influence of their new peers. Finally, I need to emphasize
what I said in my first post: I’m talking here about general trends and not
iron-clad rules. There are plenty of white Christians who loathe Trump—just not
as many of them as I wish there were. There are politically liberal
evangelicals. There are liberal
churches in America whose congregants are predominantly white, as well as Nones
who left liberal churches because they don’t like liberal politics.
Demography is not destiny … but at the same time, we’re
witnessing a sea change in the history of American religion. Since World War
II, large populations in the developed world have abandoned
religion and religious identity. While the United States long bucked
this trend, the growth of U.S. Nones shows that we’ll eventually join the ranks
of countries where a majority claims to be either atheist or not religious,
such as the UK, Japan, Germany, Australia, Spain, Canada, France, Denmark and
Israel (yes, Israel; 42%
of Israelis characterize themselves as secular and another 25% say they’re “not
very religious”). But while religion may be on the decline in places like North
America, it is
booming in places like Africa. Religiously, the world is turning into what
one researcher has described as “the secularizing West and the rapidly
growing rest.” And perhaps not coincidentally, predominantly Black churches in
the U.S. are holding on to their numbers,
and there appears to be no crisis of unbelief among America’s Hispanic
Catholics.
Maybe this is as it should be. Maybe we should express no
surprise that global Christianity is losing its hold on the portion of the
world which is relatively privileged and affluent, and seems to have the most
to say to peoples struggling for a fair share of the planet’s resources and a
fair say in the planet’s future. If Christianity today speaks most clearly to
those with the least … as a non-Christian admirer of Christianity, I think
there’s something in this that Jesus would approve.
From this perspective, white Christian American Trump
supporters no longer seem so important to me … which might be why Anthony asked
me to think globally in the first place.
