On why the relationship is generally unknown by the public, despite being well covered by historians, Ismail Kurun makes an interesting point:
Defining liberalism as “the holding of liberal opinions in politics or theology,” a nineteenth-century Oxford English Dictionary seems to be aware of the relationship between liberalism and theology.But why then has this relationship that seems quite apparent to any scholar of the early modern history not attracted remarkable attention? I think that the main reason is that modernity, Enlightenment, and liberalism have generally been seen as a break from the Middle Ages. I see this reductionist paradigm as the result of many factors ranging from scientism and positivism to progressivism and anti-clericalism. The sociopolitical changes accompanying the convulsions France experienced beginning with the French Revolution seem to have contributed to a mind-set that epitomizes the French philosophes’ grand projects such as the revocation of the organized church, the creation of a civil religion undergirded by constructivist rationalism, scientism, and romanticism tinged with nationalism as the exemplary of the Enlightenment. In other words, although it is well-known that English and Scottish Enlightenments differed considerably from the French one, this prevalent mind-set seems to create a general tendency among the scholars of philosophy and social sciences to overlook the possibility of the existence of a theological relationship between liberalism and Christianity. Actually modern scholars of philosophy and political theory already tend to underestimate anything concerning theology. When a modern mainstream political theorist encounters words such as purgatory, Eucharist, Grace of Salvation, or transubstantiation in a book, he or she will probably pass off them quickly.
This is certainly part of it, but I would say the issue is deeper still. Because secular liberalism has issues with grounding (as one might expect from any young tradition, but especially one that wants to see itself as presuppositionless), it relies heavily on historical meta-narratives the justify itself. This involves both presenting prior epochs as incredibly brutal, cruel, and superstitious, and the current paradigm as the lone rational solution to the endemic cruelties and dogmatisms of all past forms of life. This is the view at its most extreme obviously, but you find the extreme version pretty often in popular history and textbooks.
But such a view is by no means obvious. The Anglo-liberal tradition is the only tradition to have carried out an almost total genocide across two different continents, almost entirely displacing their native populations. Its paradigmatic example had a legally instituted racial caste system within living memory (one derived from its ubiquitous use of a particularly brutal form of slavery). Whereas, the infamies of the other main post-Enlightenment secular ideologies, communism and fascism, are even more obvious. Hence, any story about progress has to be caveated in important ways. And this remains true even in the post-WWII, post-Jim Crow era, since this period saw wealthy liberal democracies essentially move their working class abroad, leading to conditions akin to those Dickens decried in England, and the worst excesses of the Gilded Age.
All that said, @Tom_Storm, I wonder if you have perhaps led with an issue that is too abstract to really get much traction on. MacIntyre’s thesis is interesting, but it’s also the case that people’s day to day actions and self-understanding tend to be pretty far removed from problems of metaphysical grounding and the like. I certainly wouldn’t say that it doesn’t matter, only that the effects of such shifts take lifetimes to materialize (because traditions limp along long after they have creased to be intelligible), and are very diffuse.
So, I would point instead to a more obvious outgrowth of the broad Enlightenment-secularist-liberal paradigm: consumerism. That’s an area where the linkage between changes in theology, and then the rise of secularism, and the promotion of consumerism has been studied going back to Weber. And I’d say that consumerism ties in directly to maybe the three most acute crises facing the world today:
A. Ecological catastrophes related to over-consumption (e.g., global warming, ocean acidification, sea level rise, etc.).
B. Plummeting birthrates (which now in many nations would result in 70-90+% declines in population over three generations, or even less).
C. Unrestrained technological innovation, namely the risks represented by AI, and the economic dislocations downstream of AI and automation.
We could maybe add growing and calcifying economic inequality as a fourth issue.
But these are all deeply related to consumerism, and consumerism has well explored origins in particular theologies (particularly in the denial of a teleological ordering, skepticism of asceticism, and a changing theology of labor, paired with the rejection of monasticism), and later in secular thoughts’ ejection of all non-immanent ends from the public sphere. Indeed, as Charles Taylor explores, non-immanent ends are often seen as dangerous distractions, while Humean and materialist outlooks also shift how any non-material ends are understood. That’s a big issue, but it is much more concrete, I think.
And I think it is a good question whether the broadly neoliberal paradigm, as it exists today, has the conceptual resources to articulate principled limits on consumerism, given how it accounts for the human good (and I would say the same for Marxism).
Now, the defender of liberalism or socialism will say that everyone loves stuff, as evidenced by the fact that people jump at opportunities to get more of it! And indeed, there is something to this; I won’t deny it. People do like consumer items, and they want more of them long after their “basic needs” are met. However, it is also the case that neo-liberalism has been hegemonic in attempting to shape culture and institutions throughout the world to promote consumerist identity and behavior (and so too in the case of China’s turn to state capitalism, although perhaps to a lesser extent). And it’s by no means obvious that all locales or subcultures equally fall prey to this issue (consider widely divergent birth rates within wealthy nations by social group, even controlling for education, etc.). Hence, claiming consumerism is merely an issue stemming from a universal anthropology is a bit much to my mind.
Certainly, the more traditionalist-friendly view acknowledges acquisitiveness as a key vice that all men are vulnerable to, but it doesn’t follow from this that all cultures are equally good at forming people away from it. Today, acquisitiveness is often presented as more of a virtue than a vice, as it is in many TV shows and films about billionaires (which verge of hagiography), or loveable drug lords. Mark Fisher’s exploration of “keeping it real” in hip hop culture and gangster dramas works wonderfully here; to be “real” is to be an unconstrained consumer who maximizes power and wealth. That’s not a universal anthropology though, but a learned one.