Addressing Reductionistic “Nothing but” Scholarship: The Conversation around a New Definition of “Evangelical,” Part 1

Christian scholars interested in Christ-animated learning have long observed that one major danger to such scholarship is reductionism. George Marsden helpfully summarized the problem in his book, The Outrageous Idea of Christian Scholarship, “Once we have a convincing explanation at the level of empirically researched connections we are inclined to think we have a complete explanation.” (p. 86). He described it as the “nothing but” approach. Marsden helpfully reminded us that we need interdisciplinary work to save us from “nothing but” scholarship.

A recent debate among historians illustrates the problems with “nothing but” scholarship. The argument deals with a common question over the past half-century that historians have addressed: Who Is an Evangelical? Instead of relying primarily upon self-identification, many Christian scholars have relied upon a substantive four-part definition first proposed by the historian David Bebbington and currently used by the National Association of Evangelicals. Their website describes it as follows:

1. Conversionism: the belief that lives need to be transformed through a “born-again” experience and a lifelong process of following Jesus

2. Biblicism: a high regard for and obedience to the Bible as the ultimate authority

3. Crucicentrism: a stress on the sacrifice of Jesus Christ on the cross as making possible the redemption of humanity

4. Activism: the expression and demonstration of the gospel in missionary and social reform efforts

The obvious strength of this definition is that it supplies clear cognitive and behavioral standards by which to delineate an evangelical person, church, non-profit, or other institution. It is also formulated by an insider instead of an outsider

Recently, the well-published historian, Matthew Sutton critiqued Bebbington’s definition and those scholars who use it. He argued that evangelical historians sought to use this definition to distance themselves from the Christian Right. As a result, he contended it misrepresents post-WWII history. So, he proposed this new definition, “post–World War II evangelicalism is best defined as a white, patriarchal, nationalist religious movement made up of Christians who seek power to transform American culture through conservative-leaning politics and free-market economics” (p. 19). Today and tomorrow, I want to point out how this definition and the supporting evidence reveal numerous problems with “nothing-but” scholarship.

“Nothing But” on Both Sides

Sutton’s definition does point out one important danger. Sometimes, “nothing but…” scholarship happens by using only theological categories. Sutton astutely points out that post-WWII evangelicals cannot and should not be defined only by Bebbington’s four categories because historically, evangelicals have not always made decisions based on nothing but theological markers. Why did the NAE not reach out to African-American denominations with the same theological beliefs to ask them to join them? Why are there no Christian HBCUs in the CCCU? Race and politics, and not necessarily theology, played the important determining factor when honestly answering these questions. These are important past indicators of racism that Sutton’s analysis reminds us that evangelicals need to acknowledge, confess, and repent of. Overtly theological arguments and explanations are not the only ones.

The problem with Sutton’s definition is that he also takes the “nothing but…” approach, not in the way that evangelical lay people usually take it (explaining things simply by appealing only to a person or group’s theological beliefs), but in the all-too-common academic way. He reduces evangelicals to nothing but their supposed race, their political desire for power, their views on gender (although it is not clear in what area), and oddly, their supposed economic views (an already out-of-date claim).¹

Moreover, he is not even consistent with his “nothing but” approach in ways that simply create intellectual conflation and confusion. Although he does illuminate some important realities, he largely distorts other complicated historical and sociological realities for his own political agenda.

Trying To Have It Both Ways

The first major problem with Sutton’s argument is that he is inconsistent with his own “nothing but” definition. He wants to use two approaches to defining evangelicals. He uses self-identification to define evangelicals at some points when it is convenient for his argument, but then he creates a new definition when he wants to argue against an earlier approach to defining evangelicals I will describe below.

To give an example, Sutton tells us, “More Americans today identify as ‘evangelicals’ than as members of any other religious group, and they make up about one-quarter of the American population” (p. 3). Here, Sutton is using self-identification and not his own definition because it helps his argument. Interestingly, even the self-report data Sutton uses is problematic. Sutton’s apparent source for this claim is a 2021 Pew study. If one looks at that study, it asks the question, “Would you describe yourself as a born-again or evangelical Christian or not?”

Now, any good social scientist will tell you that is a horrible survey question (for a recent critique of this approach, see here). The surveyors should ask about the two terms separately (as we did in our survey of CCCU students and faculty I will discuss below). Since they did not, Sutton’s claim that one-quarter of Americans self-identify as Evangelical is not accurate. Indeed, another recent study by Levi Allen has found 35% of members of evangelical religious traditions preferred the term “born again” over evangelical (with Democrats and Republicans virtually equal in that preference).

I should note that the secularized Pew Foundation (ironically) appears largely to blame here. The Pew study summary stated, “Among Black Protestants, evangelicals outnumber non-evangelicals by two-to-one (66% vs. 33%).” More accurately, they should have said those identifying as evangelical or born again outnumber the others by two to one. Still, Ryan Burge has noted regarding a study that simply uses “evangelical,” 44% of blacks identify as evangelical compared to only 25% of whites and Hispanics, and 15% of Asians.

Thus, I find it both odd and inconsistent that Sutton makes the case for the importance of his new definition by relying on social science research that does not use his definition and which conflates those identifying as “born-again” and “evangelical” In addition, even though 44% of Blacks identify as evangelical he then proceeds not to identity them as evangelical with his new definition. It is embarrassing to see a white scholar try to tell Blacks who they really are.

Of course, this move between defining post-World War II evangelicals relying upon self-identification and Sutton’s new definition that equates evangelicals as being “made up of Christians who seek power to transform American culture through conservative-leaning politics” creates all kinds of conceptual and practical problems. For instance, Sutton tells us that post-World War II evangelicals sought to transform American culture through conservative-leaning politics, while over half of self-identified evangelicals voted for Jimmy Carter.

Why Conflating Evangelical and Born-Again Is Problematic

Unfortunately, Sutton himself does not engage in the social science work to figure out what percent of self-identified evangelicals would fit his new definition. I contend it would fit hardly any. For instance, a group of us surveyed a representative sample of 6737 students at 48 Council for Christian Colleges and Universities (CCCU) in 2012. During the previous decade, “evangelicals” had received negative press from politically-minded critics of George Bush, Thus, it did not surprise us to find 96% of students preferred other religious identity markers than “evangelical” when given the option among a list of common Christian sub-identities.

Table 1. Term That Best Describes Your Religious Identity

[Denominational] identity	44%
Born-again	30%
Bible-believing	15%
Evangelical	4%
Charismatic	2%
Theologically conservative	2%
Fundamentalist	1%

N=6737. Values do not sum to 100% because of rounding.

So, if you took my data and then combined it with Sutton’s new definition, one would have to conclude that CCCU students who both prioritized self-identifying as evangelical and fit his definition would likely be a minuscule 2%.           

Now, one would expect most students to shy away from terms that have been painted with a negative brush by elites, but what’s interesting is that we found a similar pattern with a representative sample of 2255 CCCU faculty. Only 15% thought “evangelical” best described their religious identity.

Table 2. Term That Best Describes Your Religious Identity

[Denominational] identity	34%
Born-again	21%
Bible-believing	15%
Evangelical	15%
Theologically conservative	5%
Theologically liberal	3%
Nondenominational	2%
Charismatic	2%
Mainline Protestant	2%

N=2255. Values do not sum to 100% because of rounding.

Thus, using self-identification, very few CCCU faculty from a little over a decade ago prioritized their self-identification as evangelical. Instead, they preferred identifying as “born-again” and/or “Bible-believing,” which would be an affirmation of different parts of Bebbington’s quadrilateral. Sutton would be better off acknowledging that his definition should supplement any use of Bebbington’s definition rather than engaging in a new form of reductionism. 

Equating Evangelicals with Conservative Politics

Unfortunately, Sutton’s reductionistic methodology extends beyond definitions to his historiographical basis for his definition. For instance, Sutton’s preferred approach to history appears to be to highlight important figures and organizations (e.g., J. Howard Pew and the National Association of Evangelicals) that fit his agenda and story. Yet, like the historians he criticizes, his narrative leaves out some important figures and groups who self-identify as evangelical but do not fit his tidy narrative and new definition.

One wonders, for example, where Ron Sider, the founder of Evangelicals for Social Action, or Richard Mouw, the politically left-leaning former President of Fuller Seminary, a major evangelical seminary, fit in Sutton’s world (the two are not mentioned in his essay). In fact, Sutton’s definition ignores that there were and are self-identified progressive evangelicals, Black evangelicals, feminist evangelicals, and egalitarian evangelicals that fill historical evangelical institutions. 

My own evangelical graduate school experience in the early 90s is instructive in this regard. I remember seeing an advertisement in Christianity Today for the Crossroad Program, funded by the still slightly religious Pew Foundation. The program was interested in helping mentor upcoming evangelical graduate students to think Christianly about public policy. I applied and was accepted, and there I encountered various evangelical leaders, including wonderful scholars and political activists such as Ron Sider and James Skillen. The program was run by Evangelicals for Social Action. My mentor was Christina Pohl from Asbury Seminary. Was this experience with evangelical intellectual mentorship in public policy simply an extension of a “patriarchal, nationalist religious movement made up of Christians who seek power to transform American culture through conservative-leaning politics and free-market economics?” Hardly.

Not only does Sutton create conceptual confusion regarding the defense of his definition, but he also demonstrates an ideologically slanted approach to historiography that colors his choice of data. Tomorrow, I will discuss how the substance of his definition demonstrates additional problems with the reductionistic “nothing but” approach.

1. The one especially puzzling emphasis in Sutton’s definition is the point about free markets. I have no doubt wealthy evangelicals, like most wealthy capitalists of any worldview (e.g., Ford, Rockefeller, Gates, Buffett, and most recently Bezos), have praised free markets. To make it a central definitional element of evangelicalism is problematic in light of the historical evidence.

   In this respect, Sutton confuses not only evangelicals but also the Religious Right with the Heritage Foundation and its ilk. Anyone who studied and experienced the political arm of Religious Right in the ’90s after the fall of the Soviet Union, as I did, would have noticed surprisingly little being done to promote capitalism and the free market system at the policy level. The groups in the American political domain that heavily promote free market economics were almost always libertarian-leaning think tanks or public policy centers that one finds in almost every state. For example, Colorado’s Independent Institute is not exactly a hotbed of evangelicalism (being heavily funded by the Coors beer company). Furthermore, one can hardly call the promotion of free markets central to Republican politics today. This Sutton sentence is certainly no longer true: “In every election since 1980, the Republican Party has crafted platforms specifically designed to appeal to those whites who identify as evangelicals. Evangelicals did not change; the GOP moved to meet them where they were” (p. 18). Furthermore, Sutton’s free market tag is already out of date in that the majority of evangelicals did not abandon Trump in droves because he has jettisoned traditional conservative free-market tenets such as being anti-protectionism, pro-free trade, or being fiscally conservative.