Religious Exclusivism and the Ethics of Diversity
As the American social landscape continues to diversify, educators are faced with growing complexity. Beyond the challenge of developing a curriculum that does justice to the varying backgrounds and belief systems represented by the wide range of students in their classes and in the culture at large, there is a deeper philosophical problem they must deal with, one that has concrete ramifications for how they teach, respond to, and manage the people they encounter. In a diverse civil society, how should public educators deal with the competing truth claims of varying perspectives represented in their classrooms, when those perspectives are not merely peripheral or provisional beliefs, but stem from foundational ways of life? While the demands of a pluralistic society require that we honor and respect a variety of religious expressions that are viable within a civil and law-abiding society, and even that we teach about these expressions in order to make people aware of diversity and learn to appreciate differences, how should the individual adherents to religions that claim their tenets express exclusive and absolute truths deal with confrontations concerning the truth of their beliefs when hearing of other religious viewpoints? Navigating these waters in a way that honors the variety of religious expressions—both in terms of celebrating diversity and also respecting the truth claims of individual religions—is now a vital and unavoidable issue for discussion in today’s world.
A pragmatic approach is extremely useful in areas where there are clear ways of testing beliefs and hypotheses, such as in the natural sciences and applied technologies. But sometimes this empirical, results-based approach has been characterized as a philosophy dismissive of metaphysical speculation. Some positivists, for example, went as far as dismissing metaphysics as meaningless if it has no criteria of verification; religious beliefs have sometimes been thought of as falling into this category of thought. But rather than give up on attempts to engage religion in a practical and critical way, the significance of religion in people’s lives coupled with the fact of pluralism makes an honest attempt to develop thoughtful conditions of critical inquiry alongside pragmatic ways of addressing the truth claims of religions even more important today.
Philosophers are stereotypically not the most statistically minded people; we historically have dealt with conjectures and abstractions more than empirical data. But even without hard numbers from self-reporting surveys, the following statements seem fairly clear. In a pluralistic society, especially through participation in public institutions, people are likely to encounter others who have some important different beliefs than they themselves do. Indeed, this is one of the virtues of public education—it combats some of the negative practical consequences of isolation through providing an environment in which people can learn to coexist in civility. Furthermore, while people certainly are likely to encounter beliefs that contrast their own beliefs on a regular basis, it is nonetheless apparent that most people believe that what they hold to be true has some reason for it, or that it is “right” to believe it. In other words, in the present context, people believe things about religion and morality because of some reasons or justifications. Certainly those reasons can be scrutinized and evaluated, and sometimes those reasons are merely causal connections to environmental and cultural factors (e.g., “My parents taught me this, and that is the reason why I believe it”). But this does not change the fact that people believe based on reasons. Finally, it seems clear that there are at least some ramifications to ethical and religious beliefs, such that most people understand that by believing a given idea or adhering to a certain principle, there are resulting behaviors and actions that stem from those beliefs.
If these assumptions are true, then it is clear that regardless of how much our social institutions advocate tolerance and the understanding of diverse viewpoints, and no matter how much education takes place concerning wide-ranging religious viewpoints, merely identifying and discussing these religious perspectives does not address the epistemic and metaphysical issues involved in pluralism. Teaching about the diversity of world religions does not address the problem a student feels when an alternative religion to her own is presented as a viable expression of the divine when its tenets directly conflict with her beliefs. If she holds her beliefs because of reasons beyond mere brainwashing or the merely contingent cultural factors of upbringing or sheltered indoctrination, then this student will be confronted with the challenge of reconciling the perceived truth and justifiability of her beliefs with the purported viability of other contrary perspectives. And teachers will inevitably face moments where the personal passion connected to those beliefs provoke challenging opportunities for dealing with issues of truth and justification. Certainly one can respond by avoiding public confrontations of belief altogether, claiming pluralistic peace as the reigning modus operandi. One risk of such an approach, however, is the possibility of projecting the dismissive idea that truth claims of religious beliefs cannot be sorted out easily enough. A more serious risk is the possibility of leaving students thinking that the purported pluralistic position itself undermines their justification to believe their views as true to the exclusion of others, potentially leading to isolation and offense instead of dialogue and understanding. The fact of pluralism in a diverse society can easily lead to philosophical pluralism, where all views are taken on par—either as all relatively true or all relatively false … or as all indeterminate and beyond the realm of discussion.
Not only is it philosophically naïve to think that the problems of advocating this type of pluralism without addressing the metaphysical and epistemological issues involved can do justice to the ethics of religious discourse, it is practically naïve as well. While some who deal with conflicting religious beliefs and who witness the damage of intolerance and exclusivity see advocating an equality or alethic parity (parity in terms of truth) of religious content as the best way to provide a venue of mutual respect, this position itself occurs on a “meta” level—the level of talking about religion. Most people actually hold the beliefs they do because they think there are good reasons for their beliefs. And some beliefs lead to the exclusion of other beliefs. Teaching about—or consciously avoiding!—issues related to the parity of truth among conflicting religious perspectives may be a temporarily successful proposal, but it ultimately rings hollow to those who are convinced that their beliefs are exclusively true (and especially when those beliefs conflict with others, such as monotheism and polytheism). Now, the exclusivist conviction may be appropriate or not: perhaps it is based on merely contingent reasons, or semi-blind faith, though at least sometimes people’s reasons are explicitly evidentialist or more broadly pragmatic, such as the success of our beliefs in dealing with the challenge of integrating our selves with our families, friends, acquaintances, and society at large. Still, this tension provides a clear challenge that cannot be avoided by either the extreme of myopic exclusivism (with a tendency towards incivility) or the extreme of equating all religions in terms of truth (with a tendency to undermine—and even be perceived as demeaning to—the content of some people’s beliefs). It is clear that giving in to just any type of exclusivism about religious content can lead to massive power struggles, persuasion by force or sheer volume, or a mob mentality where the majority is “automatically” right. All of this undermines the civility required for differing views to understand each other. But a radical philosophical pluralism can have negative implications as well, not the least of which is its critical undermining of the character of many people’s beliefs about their religious perspective: namely, the belief that what they have based their lives upon is uniquely true. The dissatisfaction some exclusivists feel over the ramifications of philosophical pluralism, which implies their exclusive beliefs are untrue, can cause as much detriment to civil discourse as a hard-headed exclusivism.
Pluralism and Exclusivity
It may be helpful to more clearly differentiate the types of pluralism under discussion here. There is of course pluralism as an observable fact, the observable social reality that there are different religions, different ways of living, and different perspectives on what is right and what is wrong. But of course this reality is not what is usually up for debate when discussions of civility and diversity ensue. While confrontations arise because of this fact, they would not be taken so seriously if people didn’t have a vested interest in the significance and truth of their beliefs. Religious viewpoints purport to be about an ultimate reality, about the true nature of things. So when we move into a discussion of “philosophical” or “religious” pluralism in terms of the content and truth-value of religious belief, we no longer are discussing the mere fact that different people believe different things and must confront the question of whether conflicting beliefs can all be true, or equally true, or equally justifiable. And furthermore, we must address whether or not the answers to these questions are actually implied by factual pluralism, or if the mere fact of diversity has little to say about matters of ultimate truth.
What does the fact that there is religious diversity say about the truth claims of various religions? There are at least a few options. One is that no religions are “true.” The conflicting claims of different religious perspectives may serve to undermine them all, disqualifying religious belief on the grounds that no measureable arbitration is available for such conflicts and propelling religion into the realm of nonsense. Religious diversity thus may undermine all religions equally. Another possible inference is that one religion is true to the exclusion of others, and the fact of pluralism merely reveals how creatively rebellious people can be in turning from the truth and embracing the religions embodied in false, man-made cultural institutions. In a boldly exclusivist world, who is correct, of course, can be difficult to determine. Even if arguments and evidence concerning religion weren’t inconclusive (and they often are perceived as such), it is a sad reality that exclusivism can lead to violence or subjugation. Establishing universally acceptable criteria for grasping truth can be a practical challenge, and human beings go to great lengths to defend themselves and their beliefs. An “unfriendly” exclusivism is difficult to maintain in a civil pluralistic society. A different approach involves saying all those beliefs that are compatible among the various religions are true, while those that conflict are not. Coupled with this view is usually a posited parity among religious perspectives. In other words, pluralism actually helps us see that there are some eternal truths that are revealed across the various religious expressions of the world, while the mode of these truths’ presentation differs in culture and context. And other combinations and inferences can certainly be developed.
A similar potential breakdown applies to nonreligious beliefs, although not every context appears to work the same way. In mathematics, many students may give a plurality of answers, but it seems clear that within the boundaries of the system only one answer is correct. In a scientific exploration, an absolute reality is often assumed, though there is a recognition that to varying degrees multiple theories or models may explain any given phenomena in a way that is on par with others, or to a degree of effectiveness that is comparable. From this philosophical perspective, pluralism exists even in science, though as Thomas Kuhn has argued, the institution rarely tolerates more than one dominant paradigm at a time in its “normal,” nonrevolutionary periods.1 In criminal legal proceedings, institutional procedures stipulate that proof will depend on evidence, witness testimony, and the decision of a jury—not, strictly speaking, on encountering reality itself. Legal guilt is different than guilt in a cosmic “absolute” sense, and of course, different juries may come to different verdicts about the former. Thus the pluralism relating to the possibilities of different verdicts in the same contentious case points not to a reality that could have existed in more than one way, but rather to an epistemic plurality in how evidence can be discovered and presented and in how procedures may or may not be followed adequately.
In the end, these various contexts show that the fact of diversity in beliefs cannot strictly speaking tell us what is going on behind the metaphysical curtain. And thus we are still left with open questions about the ethics of diversity—the way in which we should treat exclusive religious and ethical claims in the midst of a diverse and plural society. Should we sweep the philosophical problem under the carpet, resorting to the promotion all religious viewpoints as on par and as viable expressions without making reference to ultimate truth, or is there a better way to embrace diversity while honoring the truth claims of religions whose adherents believe they are right to the exclusion of other beliefs?
Epistemic Parity and Alethic Parity
Perhaps the fact of pluralism about beliefs has no direct metaphysical implications. But certainly it causes many of us to think there must be something close to epistemic parity (similarity in reasons, justification, evidence) between different, persistent, “stand-the-test-of-time” religious perspectives. If various religious groups maintain strength and viability throughout a stretch of history, maintaining reasons that cause adherents to believe the way they do and who report satisfaction with their religious perspective, then it seems we should grant that a kind of equality exists between the justification people have for believing the way they do amongst those religious options. Couple this with the influence of a person’s upbringing, heritage, and formative culture, and it seems obtuse to think that one viewpoint is more justified than another in the grand scheme of things. Certainly a particular viewpoint from these viable options may be more justified for a given individual, but not as a belief system on its own merits.
But is this really the case? What would it even mean for a belief system to be justified “on its own,” apart from that justification being connected to human thought and human practice? Justification is always for rational agents—the reasons they are entitled to believe what they believe. Or it is couched in terms of the rational agent’s noetic structure, such as the proper function of their reasoning faculty. But it is certainly a feature of “subjectivity,” of people, or of groups of rational agents in community that establishes a kind of “intersubjectivity.” And if this is the case, what more can we say than that a person should commit to those beliefs that are best justified for them internally? Isn’t a person entitled to believe in those things that in all intellectual honesty are justified to them? Indeed, this is a much bigger debate in epistemology taken more broadly, between those who advocate internalist criteria for justification, where the knower has access to the justifying reasons of their belief, and those who propose externalist criteria such as that the belief was arrived at through a reliable process. And so for our current purposes, perhaps we could add some externalist conditions for justification of religious belief such as proper rational function. Beyond this, it seems a healthy intersubjective approach would insist that individual justification should occur in the context of peer review. Perhaps the pluralist would respond that if a rational agent really was functioning properly they would see that the plurality of good reasons for varying viewpoints should prompt both the recognition of epistemic parity as well as a humble resignation of a corresponding parity in terms of truth (alethic parity). Still, externalist notions of justification ring hollow if they are kept from being evidenced through internal phenomena, in the same way that metaphysical speculations feel suspiciously empty when they have no bearing on human practice or human experience. And so, if there are people who genuinely believe in the exclusive content of their religious perspective, and who meet whatever criteria we come up with in terms of empirical, logical, and/or reliabilist standards of justification, then there is no directly apparent reason why such people would be wrong in claiming their beliefs are both epistemically not on par with others, as well as true in a way that no others are. We believe what we believe because we think we have better reasons to believe it than we do for other beliefs.
On the other hand, it is the apparent epistemic parity between those perspectives that pass the pragmatic tests of believability that leads many to accept pluralism. And if we limited such pluralism to, say, practical methodology, we would run into no difficulty, since methodological concerns resist metaphysical speculation. For instance, there may be numerous ways to achieve a certain task and all could be “valid” approaches. As the strange old saying goes, “There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” But what about when this pluralism relates to the reality proposed by conflicting perspectives? When it comes to religion, philosophers like John Hick see no problem here either: it is possible that the nature of the transcendent reality that religion aims to represent allows religious truth to be expressed in even contradictory ways.2 The contradictions (or contrariness—it is still possible many or all views are false) exist in human reason, but do not exist in the transcendent, mysterious, ineffable realm of divine reality. Some philosophical theologians make an “inclusivist” move here, claiming that while one human religion does capture the nature of divine reality best, other honest adherents to different religions (perhaps within some limitations) are under the grace and truth of the one, ultimately best, religion. Hick discusses Karl Rahner, for instance, who has called such people “anonymous Christians.”
Alvin Plantinga has resisted these approaches, not merely because they are not the only rationally viable positions one can hold (one can maintain exclusivity about religious beliefs without violating a rational duty or ignoring other options), or because one can maintain exclusivity in beliefs without being at moral fault (one can still be tolerant, respectful, and open-minded while still concluding their views are correct).3 Plantinga also proposes that advocating a robust, philosophical pluralism mires a person in various levels of self-referential inconsistency. In maintaining pluralism about religious perspectives, one’s advocacy of that philosophical pluralism commits them to seeing the exclusivist as wrong. While the pluralist wishes to welcome all religious viewpoint in terms of epistemic and alethic parity, they cannot do so when the attention is turned to the meta-position of pluralism itself. Committing to pluralism involves rejection of exclusivism, which thus reveals exclusion in the pluralistic stance. Believing one is “right” about their beliefs is hard to avoid. And so it at least opens the door to the question: Why not allow this sense of justification for the religious believer as much as for the meta-religious philosopher? And beyond this, the truth remains that for whatever apparent amount of epistemic parity there is, it does not imply parity in terms of truth about reality. There is no guarantee that our limited and varied epistemic access to the possibility of a religious reality entails one view is correct any more than it entails all are partly correct or that none is. And the moral virtues associated with pluralism, like tolerance and open-mindedness, have limits too. Of course, tolerance implies difference of opinion, and for all its value and importance, its blind employment would mean toleration of anything and everything. Which would be intolerable.
Pragmatism and Truth
However, while Plantinga makes a strong case for both the moral and rational “right” to hold exclusive beliefs, his minimalism about what this entails makes one wonder how this position should play out in civil discourse. As intimated earlier, exclusivism without the constant recognition of another’s potential entitlement and justification can quickly lead to an end to meaningful conversation. It is easy to talk about one’s entitlement to hold their beliefs as sacred, but unless we understand how to navigate the conflicts that arise when incompatible beliefs are at loggerheads, that sacred exclusion will never naturally lead to civility. And so it is worthwhile to briefly formulate a response to the challenges presented by pluralism and exclusivity, rooted in a pragmatic approach to exclusivism that can help illuminate the situation and open a door to a fruitful discussion for the real world where these conversations ultimately play out.
The classical pragmatists, to varying degrees, maintained the pluralism inherent in their methodological emphasis while leaving the door open for transcendent truth to shine through (and thus not remain entirely transcendent, at least not in the long run!). Peirce is perhaps most exemplary of this, with James to follow. Peirce famously wrote, “Truth is that concordance of an abstract statement with the ideal limit towards which endless investigation would tend to bring scientific belief, which concordance the abstract statement may possess by virtue of the confession of its inaccuracy and one-sidedness, and this confession is an essential ingredient of truth.”4 While the process itself will engage varying competing ideas and viable iterations along the way, Peirce certainly thinks that the pluralism along the way will eventually give way to the “ideal limit” of scientific inquiry. This ideal limit is connected to James’ reference to truth in the “long run,” as we see in his Preface to The Meaning of Truth:
“The true, to put it very briefly, is only the expedient in the way of our thinking, just as the right is only the expedient in the way of our behaving. Expedient in almost any fashion, and expedient in the long run and on the whole, of course; for what meets expediently all the experience in sight won’t necessarily meet all further experiences equally satisfactory. Experience, as we know, has ways of boiling over, and making us correct our present formulas.”5
The pragmatic approach to truth says “Believe as you will, at your own risk! We shall see how truthful such beliefs are!” And thus the pragmatic understanding of civil discourse involves a healthy dose of Peirce and James. It is the scientific commitment of Peirce, where public scrutiny, honest and open conversation, empirical testing, and long-term viability trump mere authoritative pronouncements or subjective certainty. But it is also the openness and optimism of James, where all claims to truth are allowed to make their case, without prejudgment as to whether one is right to the exclusion of others, nor the prejudgment that all must be equally true. It is the discourse of tolerance with an eager desire to test beliefs to the greatest practical extent that we can.
From a pragmatic point of view, the ethics of civil discourse concerning religion maintains values associated with pluralism, such as tolerance, open-mindedness, and a “democracy” of ideas, but it also exuberantly and vigorously maintains a commitment to examination, evaluation, and assessment of the “workability” and “expediency” of the beliefs in view. As we have seen already, when it comes to the religious life, pluralism can of course be considered as a merely observable factual matter. Or, it can be taken as a metaphysical perspective, one that carries with it a normative guidance for civility that renders exclusive claims inappropriate. Pragmatism may offer another way of advocating civility, but without necessarily undermining the prospect of exclusive content. Its commitment to methodological efficacy above particular content means any belief system is welcome to the conversation; but that commitment also means beliefs that fail to meet the demands and tests of open inquiry and of the human condition may be weeded out, with the long-term possibility that “truth” will emerge to the exclusion of unsustainable beliefs. Civility for the pragmatist is first and foremost developed from the virtues required for consistent, successful inquiry—be it, scientific, ethical, or religious in nature.
For instance, in “Why Pragmatists Cannot Be Pluralists,” Robert Talisse and Scott Aikin argue that there are different types of pluralism as well as different types of pragmatism—including the important distinction between the inquiry type of pragmatism and the meaning type of pragmatism.6 While a deep exploration of their work would go beyond our present discussion, we can focus on the role inquiry pragmatism plays in the ethics of religious diversity and discourse. Talisse and Aikin believe that competing conceptions of the good (or in our case, of religious reality) are driven by an under-determination of criteria for judgment.7 Thus, the proper response to diversity in areas like ethics and religion is an active program of research and inquiry into solving conflicts and disagreements by establishing relevant criteria. They write, “Disagreements for inquiry pragmatists are not semantic puzzles arising from inept or unfortunate vocabularies (as they are for meaning pragmatists), but real problems to which we must respond. The search for solutions requires experimentation—we must cast about for answers and put them to the test.”8 For the inquiry pluralist, there is not a predetermined goal to arrive at a particular belief, but rather the establishment of an environment that is conducive to open and honest inquiry and that is guided by principles that arise from successful practice.
Ultimately, Talisse and Aikin hold that inquiry pragmatism is inconsistent with a robust pluralism, because such a pragmatic approach will not be satisfied with an indeterminate conflict between the exclusive claims of different viewpoints. Pragmatists forge ahead to find answers to problematic situations, and it treats competing viewpoints as experiments open to revision and correction.9 The same applies to pluralism and religious discourse. There is no doubt that based on our limited epistemic access to the proposed reality of religious claims, we are left with experimenting and testing in limited terms and according to limited criteria (in comparison to the natural sciences). But what is so interestingly relevant to the present discussion is the idea that, while pragmatism is consistent with each side of a conflict being given room to operate out of either indifference or mutual respect and recognition, to some extent this will entail what exclusivists consider to be an undesirable state of compromise. This compromise involves the fact that in order to coexist a person must believe that peace, civility, and mutual recognition are more fundamental than the proposed truth of each person’s views. Talisse and Aikin end up arguing that pragmatists should actively pursue anti-pluralism, jettisoning an outdated vocabulary, pursuing the criticism of pluralist projects, and advocating the pursuit of truth in the midst of a difficult and conflicted moral universe. Whether or not one should keep peace and civility and mutual recognition as guiding virtues above the content claims of their religion remains an open question. That is, unless the religion itself promotes virtues of civility and respect. Indeed, such a religion may have a leg up on competing and conflicting religious claims since it embodies values of inquiry and engagement.
William James wrote,
“It is conceivable that several rival theories should equally well include the actual order of our sensations in their scheme … That theory will be most generally believed which, besides offering us objects able to account satisfactorily for our sensible experience, also offers those which are most interesting, those which appeal most urgently to our aesthetic, emotional, and active needs.”10
In the pragmatic mindset, there must be a way to establish criteria of evaluation for even religious views and religious ways of living. Perhaps those criteria will not establish a way to get beyond a certain level of remaining pluralism—perhaps a number of religions will adequately satisfy those criteria. But the continued testing in the pursuit of better and better perspectives and expressions of what is true will remain. Other than the fact of pluralism obtaining across cultures and societies in the world, there is no clear reason why we shouldn’t compare the diverse elements of these ways of life in order to see if some approaches to the diverse aspects of human existence are not in fact better than others. Such an ongoing pursuit can certainly happen within an open, tolerant, and free culture of inquiry.
Potential Implications for Education
A typical response to the problem educators face concerning religious pluralism, albeit complicated in its own right, is to think that the best we can do is provide relatively equal time and attention for understanding the various religions represented in society, and that the history and literature curricula can in a measured and objective way do justice to these ways of life. Tolerance of difference is advocated for the sake of peace and understanding. But the question remains concerning how all of this addresses the exclusivity inherent in some people’s belief systems. Should it be ignored, downplayed, or dismissed? When embodied in teaching practice, such responses can often result in a strange mix of generalized religious knowledge coupled with dissatisfaction from members of each particular group who feel their way of life has been misrepresented or misunderstood. This is really the impetus for the present discussion: while we feel obligated (based on principles of fairness and some amount of relative epistemic parity) to treat the religious views represented by members of a pluralistic community as on par, in doing so we simultaneously fail to treat those beliefs containing exclusive content “fairly.” How can we best handle the tension between the requirements of a pluralistic society and those conflicting beliefs that maintain exclusive content?
First, we should present the perspectives advocated earlier on in this work in a simplified, straightforward manner. Both young and old need to be invited to reflect on the differences between truth and justification, between metaphysical speculation and epistemological accountability. Basic concepts that are crucial for understanding matters of belief should be openly discussed: for instance, how a person can be justified and yet still potentially have untrue beliefs, or how a person could have beliefs that capture reality truthfully and yet how they themselves might lack proper justification for such beliefs. Important distinctions should be explored and clarified, such as how relative epistemic parity, while carrying moral implications, does not necessarily imply alethic parity. Beyond these core concepts, the important interdependence between the content of our beliefs and the way they lead us in practice must also be examined and explored. By doing so we can respectfully allow exclusivists to communicate alongside pluralists, maintaining a plurality of epistemic grounding while holing with an open hand the truth claims that stand up to pragmatic testing. Establishing a context of critical thinking about religious belief is the first step to an ethic of civil discourse about religion. Even the youngest of students can work through examples of pluralism and exclusivity, justification and truth—ongoing honest debates in the sciences (or those from its history) seem like a wonderful place to start, as it is easier to see how tests and results can be measured in the midst of tensions of conflicting viewpoints.
Second, a healthy dose of pragmatism about religious belief would do our education track quite a world of good. This means celebrating the role religion plays in our lives, while holding it up to scrutiny where it fails to serve its purported purpose. It means remaining open-minded about the metaphysical implications of those religious beliefs that stand up to peer review, to measured success for general living, as well as success in light of the belief system’s prescribed goals, while recognizing our limited epistemic access to those realities. If a set of religious beliefs leads to a life that contradicts its own standards, this should count against those beliefs. If a religious perspective entails the destruction of lives and the frustration of the most core human values, we should be thoroughgoing in our criticism of it and in relegating the belief to the scrapheap of human endeavors. However, this does not mean going as far as the stereotypical positivistic stance, where whatever cannot be proven in some direct empirical way must be jettisoned as insignificant or downright meaningless. Rather, the pragmatic approach leads us to welcome religious viewpoints to the table of experience, to honor the tenets of believers and unbelievers alike, while unabashedly inviting members of the community to sort out those beliefs that carry weight in the world, those that remain shrouded in untestable metaphysical mystery, and those that outright fail the best testing we as humans can muster. Educators can look at current events where the ramifications of religious beliefs have both positive and negative effects, and how those effects relate to the teachings of related religious perspectives. They can pose open evaluative questions for students to think through in light of attempts to reconcile such realities with the proposals of religion. Students can work through thought experiments and scenarios for tenable and untenable expressions of religious tenets, learning about values and critical inquiry along the way. For too long have public institutions treaded lightly on religious discourse; so lightly that an ethics of engagement has been difficult to develop because of the watered-down nature of the domain.
Finally, educators who wish to honor the exclusive content of belief systems while maintaining a pluralistic environment of learning need to find common denominators and contextual boundaries within which discussions and assessments can occur. While commonalities can be found through comparative religion, contextual boundaries come through the broader appeal of human nature, the human condition, and the pragmatically tested track record of social and ethical guidelines. Ethics education can set limits that are both universal as well as provisionally provincial. We can say, “We have yet to see the human condition flourish, or individuals report satisfaction, or find stability apart from mass dissent, with such-and-such a belief system.” This should cast doubt on the truth of the belief. We can also say “In our province, country, or region of the world, such a belief could not pass the pragmatic cultural tests that are ingrained in our makeup.” This should force an evaluation of both the belief, but also the cultural conditions that may or may not be arbitrary standards of adjudication. Now, in some way we believe such tests are good tests (that is why we have them), but open-mindedness and tolerance may allow pluralism about ethical boundaries to an extent as well. That being said, it is likely that public discourse, liberty, equality, compassion, empowerment, grace, justice, and a host of classical virtues will continually rise to the top of the list as “good” for the human condition. Beliefs and belief-systems that conflict with such virtues, while potentially true, will have to work much harder to make their case.
In the end, the pragmatic examination of religious pluralism and the pursuit of truth in a civilized society provide a cautionary tale against blind pluralism as much as blind exclusivism. The virtues of empathy, openness, and understanding can be lived out from either perspective. Civil discourse demands that we deal ethically and intelligently with each other, regardless of our claims to truth. And in doing so with pragmatic insights and a commitment to both openness and inquiry, we can equip ourselves to deal with a full spectrum of claims and ways of life, enabling us to sort out the viable from the untenable, the enlightening from the threatening, and even develop a conception of what is better and what is worse. If religious belief is not meaningless or irrelevant, if it is a vibrant and significant dimension of the human experience, then we must indeed hope that it enters into our realm of inquiry in such a way that it makes a measurable difference—a difference that is worth our most sincere engagement and evaluation.
Notes
1. Thomas Kuhn, The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, 3rd ed. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1996).
2. John Hick, “Religious Pluralism and Salvation” in Philip L. Quinn and Kevin Meeker, eds., The Philosophical Challenge of Religious Pluralism (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000).
3. Alvin Plantinga, “A Defense of Religious Exclusivism” in Louis Pojman, ed., Philosophy of Religion, 3rd ed. (Belmont, CA: Wadsworth, 1998).
4. Charles Sanders Peirce, “Truth and Falsity and Error” in J.M. Baldwin, ed., Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology (New York: Macmillan, 1901), Vol. 2, 718–720.
5. William James, The Meaning of Truth (New York: Longmans, Green, and Co., 1909), vii.
6. Robert B. Talisse and Scott F. Aikin, “Why Pragmatists Cannot Be Pluralists,” Transactions of the Charles S. Peirce Society 41: 1 (Winter, 2005), 101–118.
7. Ibid., 106.
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid., 109.
10. William James, The Works of William James: The Principles of Psychology (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1981), 939–940.