America 250: Why America is Rejecting Its Desecration

Our anthropology is what allows us both to go to space and to look death in the eye.

“I’ll go on record — I believe in God, I do.”

Those remarks, delivered in 2023 by neuroscientist and podcaster Andrew Huberman, seemed to epitomize the West’s complicated relationship with belief in the supernatural. “I’ll go on record,” Huberman said — the phrase itself belying the calculus of making such an admission. It’s not a casual thing for an influential scientist and the host of one of the biggest podcasts in the world to drop this bit of lore. It’s on the record, an aspect of Huberman’s personal life that’s now indelibly part of his public image, as is the reason Huberman gives for his belief: “I’m fascinated with the story of us.”

Just three years later, as America prepares to celebrate its 250th anniversary, the story of us appears to be one of continual progress. As the Artemis II mission comes to a close, humankind has catapulted four bold occupants almost 700,000 miles and back to Earth with no major setbacks — farther than any human being has gone before. We are once again a spacefaring race. In the realm of policy, lawmakers are jettisoning anti-progress initiatives, from net zero to ridiculous racialist narratives, offering the potential for tremendous growth in the sectors that drive our world forward. Amid such scientific, political and cultural growth, it would appear society has also begun to challenge the status quo when it comes to acknowledging the transcendent.

Beyond Huberman, Artemis astronaut Victor Glover has drawn massive attention for being incredibly public about his Christian faith both during and since the Artemis mission. “When I read the Bible and I look at all of the amazing things that were done for us, who were created, you have this amazing place, this spaceship,” Glover said in a message delivered from space on Easter Sunday. “You guys are talking to us because we’re in a spaceship really far from Earth… but you’re on a spaceship called Earth that was created to give us a place to live in the universe.” The days where keeping your faith out of the public eye — particularly in the field of science where it was practically a rule — are over. Glover, a literal space traveler operating at the heights of human engineering and ingenuity, is hardly the only example.

It’s a great time to see why we’re searching for a transcendent element to the human story. We are a species that can send four souls aboard a rocket a quarter-million miles from our world and bring them back in one piece. But we’re also struggling to figure out whether children should be able to transition their gender, what systems of government actually uphold human rights, and at what those human rights actually begin. We are forever pushing the envelope on what we can do — yet in doing so, we still have yet to answer many questions about what we are.

This is driven by what my friend and noted theologian Carl Trueman has deemed ‘the desecration of man.’ In the repudiation of traditional faith structures (and the destruction of things considered sacred), we’ve managed to create new quasi-religions by which to define ourselves. And while many of our modern substitutes for these things are not political in nature, it’s also true that many of the most notably illiberal movements of recent years serve less as socio-political explanations and more as gospel.

One clear example is the quasi-religion of anti-racism, where the original sin of unconscious bias can be purged and repented of by reading Robin DiAngelo books, apologizing for the actions of others you happen to share skin color with, and penance via donations to dubious ‘antiracist’ NGOs. This isn’t ditching religion — it’s making your grievance politics into a religion. Even belief in the tremendous positive potential of science and innovation can suffice, as evidenced by aspiring transhumanists like Bryan Johnson.

Yet much of this has quickly devolved into cultural nihilism, particularly among the West’s youngest aspiring believers. You can watch the Artemis launch and be uplifted by humanity’s potential. But it stops being fun the minute you turn the livestream off and still feel dead inside. That, as it happens, is a remarkably fast, fading, and fruitless version of ‘the story of us.’ Again, perhaps it’s no surprise that public figures with a more transcendent view of humanity are getting more airplay.

One such example is former senator Ben Sasse, who is similarly vocal about his Christian belief as he faces his seemingly-soon demise. Sasse’s recent interview with The New York Times’ Ross Douthat is a beautiful yet baffling mix of reflective, brave, and heartwarming. It’s difficult to imagine someone facing a looming death with that level of closure and calm. Yet Sasse’s reflections on a life lived for God’s glory still succeed in bringing his audience to tears. Or, in his words, “open[ing] up a can of pansy-ass.” Brilliant.

In a way, this renewed public discussion about how faith can and should drive the most difficult elements of the human experience is fitting for the 250th anniversary of our Founding. Be it the abyss of space or of death, faith has been a motivator for many of our species’ most dedicated pioneers and creators, including many of America’s architects. It is no surprise that an aspiration towards growth, innovation, and excellence will attract the sort of people — like our own Founding Fathers — who understand that answers about what our universe is are connected at their heart to answers about why we were made to live in it at all.

As Trueman suggests, the cure of many of our modern cultural malaises is not “re-enchantment,” or simply a belief that there are things about nature we don’t understand. Speaking for myself, I would take the Artemis launch over the time where people like Thales thought the world was a flat disk floating in an endless ocean, and I think most defenders of western civilization would agree. But what we may well be witnessing in a culture that, if not fully onboard with religion, is certainly less dismissive than it has been in past decades, is the answer to desecration: consecration. It’s a belief that life’s fundamental questions, just like the universe’s deepest mysteries, are answers to be sought after, not merely shrugged away.

The story of America at its 250th, and the story of the West, is the story of us: the most important thing to inhabit this vast cosmos. That story is worth exploring, and telling, in full.

Isaac Willour is the director of corporate engagement at Bowyer Research, representing institutional investors before America’s biggest companies. He writes frequently on issues pertaining to business, faith, and culture, and can be found on X @IsaacWillour.