In 1943, C. S. Lewis published The Abolition of Man in an attempt to warn the world about the Innovators, educators who were corrupting the minds of children, turning them into “men without chests.” If Lewis were to write again in 2019, he would find a formidable set of new Innovators to warn us about.

Lewis begins The Abolition of Man by commenting on an English textbook, written by two misguided authors whom he calls Gaius and Titius:

In their second chapter Gains and Titius quote the well-known story of Coleridge at the waterfall. You remember that there were two tourists present: that one called it ‘sublime’ and the other ‘pretty’; and that Coleridge mentally endorsed the first judgement and rejected the second with disgust. Gaius and Titius comment as follows: ‘When the man said This is sublime, he appeared to be making a remark about the waterfall… Actually … he was not making a remark about the waterfall, but a remark about his own feelings. What he was saying was really I have feelings associated in my mind with the word “Sublime”, or shortly, I have sublime feelings.

As Lewis observes, Gaius and Titius have reduced all statements of value to “statements about the emotional state of the speaker.”

Gaius and Titius’ perspective fails to reckon with what we might call the grain of the universe, the natural order, or as Lewis calls it, “the Tao.” It fails to account for the way the world really is: the fact that some waterfalls truly are sublime apart from any assertion or human opinion about them. This reality-denying individualism (known in technical circles as “emotivism”) is the calling card of the Innovators.

Lewis warns where this way of thinking, oblivious to the created world, will lead: nihilism.

The practical result of education in the spirit of “The Green Book” must be the destruction of the society which accepts it…. The Tao therefore is the basis of all value systems. If it is rejected, all value is rejected. If any value is retained, it is retained. No new value system can be erected except on the basis of the Tao. All such efforts will merely be fragments from the Tao itself … If he had really started from scratch, from right outside the human tradition of value, no jugglery could have advanced him an inch towards the conception that a man should die for the community or work for posterity.

Apart from the Tao, all that is left is one’s own preferences and those preferences are only as meaningful as the power of the person to enforce them. Everything becomes utterly arbitrary, so that talk about justice, goodness, and beauty is meaningless. These concepts amount to no more than opinion enforced by strength or numbers.

In abandoning the Tao, “it is not that [the Innovators] are bad men. They are not men at all. … They have stepped into the void … they are artifacts. Man’s final conquest has proved to be the abolition of Man!”

A similar abandonment of the created order is working its way through American Christianity in our own century, masquerading itself as Christian truth. This time the Innovators are not emotivists like Gaius and Titius, reducing every value statement to an opinion, but they are liberal individualists, reducing real flesh-and-blood human beings into isolated abstractions. These Innovators of the third millennium are the preachers of the atomic individual, the man who thinks for himself and is responsible to no one. We can find these Nietzchean Ubermen in the excesses of libertarianism and in the fiction of Ayn Rand. Far more worrisome, though, is that we can find these self-made men praised in the pulpits of many a respectable Christian church.

Where the Christian gospel insists “you are not your own; you were bought at a price,” these Innovators and their libertarian gospel say, “you are your own; whatever you have bought is yours.” Where Scripture speaks about salvation as being united in Christ and becoming Christ’s body on earth, the libertarian gospel speaks of salvation as inviting Jesus into your heart (that is, Jesus entering your individual body, not you and all Christians together entering his). Although this kind of pathology runs against the grain of the universe, against the scriptural witness, and even against the weight of Christian thought across two millenia, still somehow that does not stop Christian ministers from clinging to it.

Last summer, John MacArthur and some other prominent Christian leaders drafted and signed a clumsy document known as The Statement on Social Justice. While the drafters claim that the statement is motivated by “[a deep concern] that values borrowed from secular culture are currently undermining Scripture,”[1] every single error among the statement’s pronouncements comes from the drafter’s own confusion of the gospel of liberal individualism with Holy Writ.

Yes, John MacArthur and the other signers of the Statement on Social Justice are the Innovators that C. S. Lewis warned us about.

The Statement, which aspires to address the “onslaught of dangerous and false teachings that threaten the gospel, misrepresent Scripture, and lead people away from the grace of God in Jesus Christ,”[2] is itself culpable of seriously distorting Christian teaching. There is a frustrating insistence on individualism in its paragraphs.

By individualism, I here and above mean the sense that all that matters morally is the heart and intention of the individual. That is, a perspective that zooms so entirely in on the individual so as to obscure, and even deny, any larger realities. I think here of the benighted souls (and I myself have been one) who think it possible to fly a Confederate flag simply for pride of Southern culture. The moral framework necessary to justify this action is one that focuses solely on the individual and his or her heart towards African Americans. As just one example of its shortcomings, this framework denies granting any significance, except in a secondary sense, to the historical re-adoption of the flag in the Civil Rights era as a symbol of Southern defiance against federally-mandated integration.

The reality-bending individualism of the Statement on Social Justice is on full display when its drafters claim that while it is possible for families, groups, and nations to “sin collectively” or be “predisposed to particular sins,” “subsequent generations share the collective guilt of their ancestors only if they approve and embrace (or attempt to justify) those sins.”[3] Here they have reduced morality to the thought-life of a solitary individual.

Like the drafters’ account of the gospel, which is simply about affirming Christ as the Lord who has atoned for the world’s sins (a good start though it is something which “even the demons believe, and shudder,”) their account of ethical action is about right belief and fails to acknowledge the way we are implicated in one another’s lives. True, “the child will not share the guilt of the parent” (Ezekiel 18:20) but to consider the matter settled by that verse is to miss the biblical picture of what it is to be a human being.

There is no sense in the drafters’ pronouncements that I might bear responsibility for my family, children, or ancestors, other than not to “approve and embrace”[4] their sins. This is far afield from the biblical picture, which insists that in one man all sinned and will die (1 Corinthians 15:22); that I am my brother’s keeper (Genesis 4); that if my brother sins I have a duty to confront him (Matthew 18); that my body is a member of Christ and that my sexual immorality can unite the body of Christ and other members of that body with a prostitute (1 Corinthians 6).

In the drafters’ fear of the social nature of the gospel, they mis-read Scripture and fail to see the full glory of the gospel. They, and other followers of the libertarian gospel, miss the reality on display in the body of Christ, the truth that John Donne captured so elegantly: “No man is an island entire of itself … any man’s death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind.”

This fear of our corporate nature, this radical individualism is not just a failure to understand who we are as human beings; it also manifests itself in a failure to understand how we know and learn to believe things. The libertarian gospel paints a picture of humankind as atoms and monads, totally separate from everything around them, brains on sticks that can merely either “approve and embrace … sins” or reject them. Their ‘repentance’ is one of the mind, so that they can earnestly claim that “implications and applications of the gospel, such as the obligation to live justly in the world … are not definitional components of the gospel.”[5]

The drafters and the proponents of this caricatured gospel fail to consider the abolition of man that has been carried out through the individualism they champion. In their isolation, they have lost sight of that partnership “between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are yet to be born,” as Edmund Burke puts it. They have lost their place in the great communion of humankind.

This is another way of getting at the same thing as Donne’s poem, and, in part, what Christians mean when they profess belief in the “communion of saints.” Christ unites in his own body that which is separated by time and distance. And it is also a recognition of what is so evidently true of reality: we are not our own; we come from somewhere and are indebted to a history, apart from which we cannot even articulate who we are. We first learn to speak and reason through others who cared for us when we could not care for ourselves. The very nature of human beings requires this.

Rather than try to “be our own man,” as the individualists would have it, only taking responsibility for the sins and failures which we directly and explicitly embraced, to be fully human is to take responsibility for things, actions, and people outside our immediate experience and, in turn, to be dependent upon the responsibility and care of others. This is to embrace the biblical picture of human nature and to live out the fully human life of Christ. It is the antidote to this individualism run amok.

To enter into and embrace the responsibility and dependence of human community is to recognize, with awe, that Christ took on flesh, not as a fully-formed, independent adult, but as a baby within Mary’s womb. To embrace this Tao, this natural order, is to acknowledge our dependence on those around us and those before us, those who bore us, as well as our debt to those who will come after us.

The Gospel of Jesus Christ is that we have been united in Christ, brought into God’s chosen people of Israel as wild branches are grafted into an olive tree. We are not our own. We are members of Christ’s one body, sharing in the unity of the Spirit one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all (Ephesians 4:3-6).

Sharing as we do in this one body, it is then our business to be our brothers’ keeper, lest in denying our brother we deny the one body we are a part of. Our business is to step into our true nature as human beings and manifest the reality of the world in our fellowship. We must become participators in that reality, not the Innovators that Lewis warned us about.

Enjoy the article? Pay the writer.

Personal Info

Donation Total: $0

  1. “Introduction,” The Statement on Social Justice & the Gospel. You can read the whole statement here:
  2. Ibid.
  3. “Sin,” Ibid.
  4. “Gospel,” Ibid.
  5. Ibid.
Print Friendly, PDF & Email

Posted by John Shelton

John Schweiker Shelton is a congressional staffer with a master’s degree from Duke in theological ethics and political theory. He is also a proud Virginian and alumnus of Thomas Jefferson’s university. You can follow him on Twitter @jayshelt for odd musings about theology, philosophy, and fantasy literature.


  1. Barbara McClatchey April 24, 2019 at 11:59 pm

    Please note that John Donne’s “No man is an island” quotation is in a sermon by him, not a poem.


    1. It’s not a sermon. It’s a work best characterized as devotional writing. It was never read, so far as I know, by Donne in a religious service.

      It lacks a consistent meter and is embedded within a larger piece of prose but it does have some rhyme and plenty of other poetic features, so it’s not a stretch to call it a prose-poem. It’s far more poetic than many another work going by that name.


  2. Your grasp of The Abolition of Man is almost as bad as your grasp of the Scriptures. To take just one example, “Where the Christian gospel insists “you are not your own; you were bought at a price,” these Innovators and their libertarian gospel say, “you are your own; whatever you have bought is yours.”” Paul’s teaching that our bodies belong not to ourselves, but to Christ, has nothing to do with private property, for or against.
    You do not seem to recognize your own place in the continuum Lewis describes in his essay. I see far more in common between what you wrote and the Green Book.


    1. Agree. The writer treats CS Lewis’s Abolition superficially in order to drop his name in service of a Progressive ideology that Lewis would never have endorsed.


    2. This comment appears to prove the author’s point.


  3. Is it not written that no longer shall it be said that the fathers eat sour grapes and the children’s teeth are set on edge? Is it not also written that every man will die for his own iniquity, not another’s? (Ezekiel 18:1-4)


  4. Lewis is is resisting the idea that the profound feelings we have are only in our brain and do not reflect a greater significance and meaning hidden in nature, and one that is also innate to all humanity. He is saying that both morality and values are universal. He was not making a statement about individualism. Individualism in the libertarian sense concerns the importance of the individual taking on responsibility, to speak truth, to improve their life. It demonstrates how valuable the individual is having been made in God’s image and reduces the tribal idea of a one’s value stemming from which group they belong to or their position in the group. Those who emphasise only certain morals or who deny moral absolutes are not being individualistic they are being nihilistic. One could think of nihilism or postmodernism as as extreme individualism, but they are not what the libertarians of the enlightenment would have defined it as. It is possible to be very individualistic and still be concerned about the state of the environment and be “my brother’s keeper”.

    The New Testament puts much more emphasis on the individual before God than the Old. We are not saved by becoming united with Christ and part of his body, we are saved by faith, and faith is always an individual choice. Becoming united is the outworking of this submission, faith and love. The OT prophets spoke of a future time when God would not punish us for our tribal sins. “For everyone belongs to me, the parent as well as the child–both alike belong to me. The one who sins is the one who will die.” (Ezekiel 18:4). “In those days, it will no longer be said: ‘The fathers have eaten sour grapes, and this has set the children’s teeth on edge.’ Instead, each will die for his own iniquity. If anyone eats the sour grapes, his own teeth will be set on edge.…” (Jer 31:29) There are still natural consequences for the group when we do wrong, as John Donne wrote, “no man is an island entire of itself…”, but these days God does not judge us or reward us in this life.
    The Western malady is its emphasis on the individual becoming independent and great, having moved away from the original concept of the individual becoming righteous and valuable. This has lead to a loss of respect for family and community, and a loss of tribal identity. It has reduced the useful impact of social shame to keep order as we have become desensitised to our instinctual sense of disgust, and to our higher desire to give honour to those who demonstrate goodness. Instead we are great at giving honour to belligerent beauties. In this sense the media has united us in each other’s sins on a scale never seen before. We have responsibility to not be influenced by the spirit of the age and are responsible to try and change it for the better. We may be punished one day for our sins of omission, but we will not be punished for Michael Jackson’s child abuse.


    1. Wow, both pro and con–this is getting deep. I suppose the next thing to deliberate is how CS Lewis’s concepts would apply to Michael Jackson’s music. This thread is mind blowing.


  5. He is saying that both morality and values are universal. He was not making a statement about individualism. Individualism in the libertarian sense concerns the importance of the individual taking on responsibility, to speak truth, to improve their life. It demonstrates how valuable the individual is having been made in God’s image and reduces the tribal idea of a one’s value stemming from which group they belong to or their position in the group.
    The New Testament puts much more emphasis on the individual before God than the Old. We are not saved by becoming united with Christ and part of his body, we are saved by faith, and faith is always an individual choice. Becoming united is the outworking of this submission, faith and love. The OT prophets spoke of a future time when God would not punish us for our tribal sins.


    1. If you read Lewis’ critique of emotivism, it’s all right there. He’s critiquing a metaphysical version of individualism.

      Also, we are justified and sanctified by union with Christ. It’s all in Calvin. See also: Paul’s writings and usage of the phrase “in Christ.”


  6. Great contribution. I do wonder, though, to what extent this faux gospel is truly a libertarian gospel. As you note, it’s silent on any kind of social component. But that’s likely because its proponents prefer a gospel that doesn’t push against the social assumptions of post-WWII, middle-class, whites in the US.

    As Molly Worthen documents in her excellent book, it’s nearly impossible to untangle post-WWII evangelical theology from the promotion of a certain lifestyle, particularly among middle-class whites. Rod Dreher recently quoted an author on his blog who remarked that post-WWII evangelicalism amounts to little more than a lifestyle masquerading as a faith. That’s an overstatement, but it doesn’t miss the mark by much.

    It will be interesting to see if evangelicalism can survive the passing of the era that gave it its birth. With each passing year, the social assumptions of the the decades following WWII year become less relevant. And sporting red MAGA hats isn’t going to change that (although it likely explains why white evangelicals embrace the MAGA message so easily).

    I prefer that evangelicalism survive the coming inter-generational transfer. But doing so requires us to be more honest with ourselves about our history and the sociological assumptions that undergird our movement. Our tribal commitments run deep. In fact, they run so deep that we need not acknowledge them explicitly in our gospel. And although we’ve become comfortable with those social commitments, they are increasingly less and less useful for navigating the social challenges that we face today. John Wayne is dead, and it’s probably time to let the evangelical gospel of John Wayne die off too.


    1. Which book? “Apostles of Reason”? I haven’t had the opportunity to check out any of Worthen’s writings.


      1. That’s the one I had in mind.


  7. I would add that I’m not hopeful that evangelicalism, in its current institutional form, will last too much longer. I say this for one key reason.

    That’s what generally happens in Protestantism. The flexibility of Protestantism permits it to adjust to changing social circumstances. That means that the social assumptions of a particular ra in a particular place get baked into the polity. That’s inevitable. And if those social assumptions are widely shared by others in the culture, these “truths”—though conditional on time and place—can come to seem more lasting than they are. As time passes, these “truths” become less relevant to the social problems that younger generations face. But they often remain helpful for an older generation’s way of understanding its place in the world. For these reasons, movements in Protestantism rarely change much from their founding narrative. Eventually, they just die off and are replaced by other movements.

    I’ve lost any interest in trying to “reform” evangelicalism. It’s clear that guys like Franklin Graham, Al Mohler, Denny Burk, and the whole traditionalist lot, are not that interested in examining the social assumptions of the gospel they promote. The debate over the Revoice conference is a good example. To have dialogue and debate, there has to be a willingness to listen to what others say. It’s clear that traditionalist evangelicals are not interested in listening to anything that may undercut the lifestyle narrative that has guided the movement for the past 70 years. I’m fine with that. I think that message still works for older Americans, especially in the South and Midwest. As I look out over the Manhattan skyline, I also recognize that it explains little concerning the world I inhabit. So, it annoys me a bit when guys like Tim Keller suppose that Revoice and Franklin Graham can coexist happily within the same institutional space. They can’t. It’s time for an amicable divorce within evangelicalism.


  8. […] wanted to put up a quick post to deal with an objection that had been raised to John Shelton’s post over on the main site. In his post, Shelton argued that there is a strong individualistic streak to […]


Leave a reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *