Christianity and Socialism

Throughout my life it has been clear to me that many Christians assume that capitalism has its roots in Christianity, and that a proper defense of capitalism must begin with an affirmation of the Christian worldview. Some even seem to think that where you find Christianity, you’re likely to find capitalism, as if the latter were a natural corollary of the former. With some two and a half billion Christians in the world (source), how’s that going?

I suppose that much of what gives impetus to this view is the famed Protestant work ethic that Max Weber wrote about in his highly influential book The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism, which begins by observing that in nations “of mixed religious composition” there is a strong tendency that “business leaders and owners of capital… are overwhelmingly Protestant” (p. 35). In contravention to this, Michael Novak argues that capitalism was actually created by the Cistercians, a Catholic religious order which branched off from the Benedictines (because the Benedictines weren’t Benedictine enough), given their masterful use of profits and venture capital.

Of course, capitalism is not reducible merely to a strong work ethic or to wise management of profits; both of these traits, as noble as they may be, are possible outside a capitalist system. At its core capitalism involves the abolishment of the use of force in interpersonal relationships: all human interaction is entirely voluntary. Thus, formally, capitalism as a social system in inextricably based on the concept of individual rights, including the right to life and to property. In capitalism, you are free to have a bad work ethic, and you’re free to forego profits. You won’t prosper, but no one’s going to come along and force you to have a strong work ethic or to enjoy a profit year over year. Prosperity requires dedication, discipline, effort, planning, honest cooperation, fulfillment of obligations, etc.

This is really a question of what political system is most suited to Christian teachings as they are informed by biblical instruction. Or, even more to the point: what is the nature of the political system which results from Christian practice when it is adopted by a society? Would that political system be individualistic, such as capitalism, or would it be more collectivistic, i.e., a form of socialism?

C. S. Lewis, in his immensely popular book Mere Christianity, holds that “Christianity has not, and does not profess to have, a detailed political programme,” and yet at the same time “it is meant for all men at all times” (Book III, chapter 3). He justifies the absence of a worked-out political theory by the following reasoning:

When [Christianity] tells you to feed the hungry it does not give you lessons in cookery. When it tells you to read the Scriptures it does not give you lessons in Hebrew and Greek, or even in English grammar. It was never intended to replace or supersede the ordinary human arts and sciences: it is rather a director which will set them all to the right jobs, and a source of energy which will give them all new life, if only they will put themselves at its disposal. (Ibid.)

All of this strikes me as nothing short of a cop-out. What political thesis which advocates the charitable feeding of “the hungry” expounds that principle along with “lessons in cookery”? Why would the latter be necessary to proclaim the former? Simple division of labor would have philosophers present and defend their political theses, and culinarians can publish their recipes. Christianity, we are constantly reminded, is a worldview, a network of philosophical ideas. One of the main branches of a philosophy worthy of the term is the branch known as politics – i.e., the application of moral principles to the realm of interpersonal relationships. Any set of morals is going to have its share of implications for interpersonal relations. But a worldview which broadcasts its moral tenets as emphatically as Christianity does, is shirking its responsibility as a worldview if it does not also flesh out their social application.

Lewis puts great emphasis on the Golden Rule, which he encapsulates as “do as you would be done by,” as “a summing up of what everyone, at bottom, had always known to be right.” I admit I’ve become weary of confident generalizations such as this, proclaiming what “everyone” supposedly knows, especially when so many samples suggest the opposite. Children, it has been observed, demonstrate acute awareness of basic principles of justice - when they have been wronged; but many are oblivious when their actions infringe on others’ well-being. The point here is that people do not automatically know what is right and wrong – we need to learn this. Taking the Golden Rule seriously can easily lead one to expect reciprocation of good deeds in personal relationships, even though this is often unwarranted. Moreover, one of the central factors found in a great many acts of injustice is the pursuit of the unearned, and the maxim “do as you would be done by” is certainly not incompatible with the desire for the unearned put into action. It’s very common for one party in a relationship to sacrifice for the other on the expectation that someday the favor will be returned, perhaps in even greater measure, and when it is not so returned, the resulting resentment can be tremendous. Here I’d agree that none other than Barnaby Jones offers more worthy guidance when he states “you belong where you earn your way” (Season 1, Ep. 6).

The Christian bible, in particular certain passages in the New Testament, is well known for its proclamations against “the rich” and pursuit of “worldly” values, its praise for “the poor” and “the meek,” etc., which are understandable in a slave society. Most individuals in such a society had little or no hope of lifting themselves out of their humble state, so a religion which rationalizes resentment towards the well-to-do and elevates poverty to the status of a virtue would likely attract many adherents. At the same time, it would reinforce an us-versus-them mentality already seeded in a mystical view of human culture which distinguishes between converts and outsiders. The roots of collectivism in all this are hard to miss, a premise set in motion by the assumption of collective guilt, and the notion of “class struggle” is but a stone’s throw away.

Many will object, perhaps as a reflex, that Marx was vehemently anti-religious and thus argue that socialism – at least the Marxist strain – is antithetical to the rudiments of Christianity. But this is a superficial difference. Marx was an overt determinist, viewing history in terms of economic classes vying for dominance and prognosticating that certain outcomes were inevitable, regardless of individual agency. The worker’s paradise is sure to come about “just because” (but a little violent revolution might be needed to speed things up). In fact, his whole worldview implicitly denies the moral agency of the individual as a category of causation (the class you belong to tells the whole moral story) and casts the individual as a mere cell within a larger social organism. Hicks points out that Marx’s own predictions, far removed from any application of scientific methodology, were by the late 1800s already proving to be so diametrically off target that his political views, even according to some who were sympathetic to them, needed serious rethinking (cf. Explaining Postmodernism, p. 137). Unfortunately the faithful dug in their heels, and the rest is history.

But it does not follow from Marx’s rejection of theism that socialism on the broader interpretation is therefore incompatible with Christianity, or at least certain strains thereof (or its merest form). Put in practice, Marxism can be seen as simply substituting the all-powerful state for Christianity’s all-powerful god, as can be observed in the harrowing experiments of the Soviet Union and Mao’s China. To be sure, the affinity between socialism and Christianity transcends the theistic question, for even deterministic premises aside, both socialism and Christianity avow the ethics of self-sacrifice. This is critical given its implications for interpersonal relationships. Where Christianity condemns selfishness as the root of all sin, socialism consummates this in the political sphere by holding as inherent the obligation of the individual to sacrifice on behalf of the group. And where Christianity has the believer bowing to an omnipotent overseer of the universe, socialism has its authoritarian state ensuring that no one prospers any more than anyone else (save of course those manning the controls of the state). Both hold obedience to authority as a cardinal virtue of the individual, reducing the individual to perpetual subservience, the one to supernatural personalities, the other to civic machinery. While the Christian universe is under the thumb of an all-controlling deity, “socialism,” declared Mao, “must have a dictatorship, it will not work without it” (quoted in Frank Dikötter, The Tragedy of Liberation: A History of the Communist Revolution, 1945–1957).

So it should not surprise us when Lewis writes:

All the same, the New Testament, without going into details, gives us a pretty clear hint of what a fully Christian society would be like. Perhaps it gives us more than we can take. It tells us that there are to be no passengers or parasites: if man does not work, he ought not to eat. Every one is to work with his own hands, and what is more, every one's work is to produce something good: there will be no manufacture of silly luxuries and then of sillier advertisements to persuade us to buy them. And there is to be no "swank" or "side," no putting on airs. To that extent a Christian society would be what we now call Leftist. On the other hand, it is always insisting on obedience—obedience (and outward marks of respect) from all of us to properly appointed magistrates, from children to parents, and (I am afraid this is going to be very unpopular) from wives to husbands. (Op. cit.)

What Lewis describes here is of course a dictatorship, the rule of men (“magistrates”), not of laws. And to the extent that there are any laws in such a society, they serve to limit the individual (he won’t be allowed to manufacture “silly luxuries”), not the bureaucracy which outlines the limits on the individual. Under such a system, the individual is not free to pursue his own choice of purpose, for his purpose is not to flourish and enjoy his life, but to obey and serve the state. An overarching authority is needed to ensure that everyone is working and determines what that work should produce.

In an article published earlier this year titled Christianity and Socialism: What Should A Christian Believe? apologist Douglas Groothuis argues, presumably from a Christian perspective, that “all forms of socialism are dogged by ineradicable flaws.” The first of these, according to Groothuis, is that “socialism does not allow the free exchange of goods and services in an open market,” which is true: socialism indeed does not allow for such freedom. But the sin here is not that such disallowance violates the right of individuals to contract with one another voluntarily, but rather that it “leads to shortages and massive inefficiencies, since centralized control tries in vain to take the place of the distributed intelligence of a free market.” In other words, Groothuis’ objection on this point is a form of consequentialism: if x takes place, then y will be the result, and y is bad because, well, you know, shortages and inefficiencies are just inconvenient. Then again, striking workers also results in shortages, and giving up Sundays to sit in church pews is not a formula for efficiency.

The second failing of socialism, according to Groothuis, is that it

does not allow individuals to advance (or decline) according to their personal industry or resourcefulness. Rather, the state (to one degree or another) controls the economy and takes over such services as education, health care and agriculture. It imposes severe taxes on the wealthy, such that they cannot venture to create new goods, services, and jobs. Instead, their money is redistributed by the state, which, in itself, generates no wealth at all. It can only confiscate through taxes; it does not create through productive enterprise. That requires the incentives and opportunities of a free market.

And all of this is true. But what should not be overlooked here is the fact that Groothuis does not relate this objection to socialism to anything in Scripture. At no point does Groothuis cite any passage of the Christian bible to show that the ills which he attributes to socialism violate biblical teachings. Is this an oversight, or perhaps he assumes the incongruence of this aspect of socialism with the Christian bible is common knowledge? More “we just know”? Groothuis’ objection is more along the lines of: socialism is wrong because it violates the individual’s right to pursue his own values and purpose. But this assumes an ethics of self-interest, not Christianity’s enshrinement of self-sacrifice.

If obedience to magistrates is man’s primary political purpose (cf. Romans 13:1-3), then why would preventing individuals to “advance” be objectionable? If obedience is a cardinal virtue, as Christianity in fact teaches, what’s wrong with the state “control[ling] the economy and tak[ing] over such services as education, health care and agriculture”? If magistrates are to determine what kind of products individuals are to be allowed to produce, why wouldn’t imposing severe taxes to control behavior be a valid, indeed proper, means of ensuring such determination?

Naturally there’s much more to examine on the matter than the trifles I’ve culled together here. But while I would agree with Lewis’ broader point that Christianity fails to draw out its moral implications into an explicit political theory, I would also agree that the application of Christianity’s moral principles of obedience and self-sacrifice implicate “a Christian society [which] we would now call Leftist,” with its centralized control, its limitation on individual freedoms, and its overall treatment of the individual as an end beyond himself. Given Christianity’s determinism, collectivism, emphasis on self-sacrifice, and supreme authoritarianism, I don’t see how Christianity in its most unmitigated state could fail to imply a socialist political theory. It should not be any surprise, then, that the Nazi Party Platform of 1920 states in its 24th point that “The Party, as such, stands for positive Christianity, but does not commit itself to any particular denomination.” For that matter, neither does Mere Christianity.

Speaking of Jesus, one Christian source characterizes his sacrifice as follows:

In His human life, He was all about sacrifice—His whole life was a sacrifice. And His is the life that has been exalted as the perfect pattern for our own.

Or as Joseph Goebbels puts it in his novel Michael:

Socialism is: that I submit to you, 

The personification of all sacrifice.

Socialism is in the deepest sense of service, 

Above the individual and dedication to the whole.

Frankly, it’s all rather chilling, don’t you think?

by Dawson Bethrick