u/rastancovitz

Image 1 — How Symbols of Inclusion Can Act as Signals of Exclusion
Image 2 — How Symbols of Inclusion Can Act as Signals of Exclusion
Image 3 — How Symbols of Inclusion Can Act as Signals of Exclusion

How Symbols of Inclusion Can Act as Signals of Exclusion

Reprinted below:

How Symbols of Inclusion Can Act as Signals of Exclusion

by David Cycleback, Ph.D., (retired Director of Center for Artifact Studies, member of the British Royal Institute of Philosophy, and author of the college textbook Cognitive Science of Religion and Belief Systems)

Many organizations prominently display progressive symbols as front-facing signage, presenting them as expressions of inclusion, diversity, and tolerance. Land acknowledgments, Black Lives Matter signage, Progressive Pride flags, and “Free Palestine” messaging are meant to signal compassion, moral awareness, and ethical commitment. Many people who use these symbols do so sincerely. They genuinely believe they are working to create spaces that are welcoming and inclusive.

To many observers, however, these same symbols communicate something quite different, especially when they are combined with ideological jargon and a ‘safetyism’ culture (Read the earlier posts “Why progressive activist language turns off most people” and “Revisiting Jonathan Haidt’s The Coddling of the American Mind”). The symbols and slogans are viewed as strict ideological boundary markers. They signal that a space is highly politically partisan, tribalistic, and morally rigid.

They also convey a specific class and cultural identity: spaces oriented toward highly educated, upper-middle-class progressives and, in practice, often overwhelmingly white. To many working-class people, classical and old-school liberals, moderates, independents, conservatives, immigrants, and racial and ethnic minorities, these signals suggest that their language, perspectives and values will be treated with suspicion, or even disdain, rather than welcome.

These perceptions didn’t arise in a vacuum, but are learned through experience. Many people have spent time in environments where speech was monitored, language tightly policed, and reasoned disagreement treated as evidence of moral failure. Over time, they recognize a recurring ideological structure: postmodern-influenced frameworks that treat people not as individuals but as representatives of identity categories, each assigned presumed power, virtue, or guilt. Within these frameworks, free expression is often reframed as oppression, disagreement as harm, and dissent as bigotry.

As a result, people learn that these are not spaces designed for genuine diversity of thought. Views are expected to conform to a narrow interpretive lens. Questioning dominant narratives is treated as ignorance, malice, or defect. Language is used not only to persuade but to enforce conformity and signal insider status.

Many of those alienated by these environments are minorities themselves, who have seen their own views, and those of other minorities, dismissed for failing to conform to approved positions. Others were committed supporters of social justice who were labeled bigoted, fragile, or uneducated for expressing nuance or personal experience. Watching colleagues and friends be publicly corrected, morally diagnosed, or pushed out teaches people how these spaces actually function.

This dynamic is especially visible in the use of loaded ideological jargon. In progressive social justice spaces, people learn that when someone is asked whether they are “anti-racist,” the question is rarely about opposing racism in the ordinary sense. More often, it functions as a test of adherence to a specific theoretical framework rooted in critical race theory and postmodernism. Agreement on basic moral values of equality and fairness is not enough; strict doctrinal alignment is what they are looking for.

This helps explain growing skepticism toward moralized political language, and why many symbols and slogans operate less as invitations than as warnings. Many slogans are designed to sound universally agreeable while carrying much narrower ideological meanings. They trade on moral universals, such as justice, dignity, and safety, while embedding specific theoretical commitments.

The political content associated with these symbols reinforces this perception. Whatever one thinks of the slogan itself, the Black Lives Matter organization has embraced positions that extend far beyond opposition to racism and police misconduct, including anti-capitalism, abolitionist approaches to policing and prisons that are opposed by most blacks and other racial minorities, and critical race and intersectional frameworks that prioritize group identity over individual intent. It rejects colorblind liberalism and meritocracy in favor of equity-based outcomes and aligns with broader activist causes, including anti-Zionist narratives. These commitments are distinct from the widely shared moral statement that “black lives matter.”

A similar pattern exists around the Progressive Pride flag, where there is disagreement about the flag within the LGBT communities themselves. While supporters see it as increasing visibility, inclusion, and justice, critics within the LGBT communities argue that it transforms a unifying symbol, the rainbow flag, into a political one, introducing identity hierarchies and implicitly demanding alignment with activist frameworks such as intersectionality, postmodernism, and gender theory. Many gay, lesbian, and bisexual people—especially older members and those outside activist circles—experience this not as inclusion but as politicization.

The same is true of the “Free Palestine” slogan. While some may see it as a universal humanitarian slogan, in activist and institutional contexts it often functions as shorthand for an explicitly anti-Zionist framework that rejects Israel’s legitimacy and situates the conflict within broader anti-Western colonial narratives. Because of these associations, many people—especially Jews, moderates, and those familiar with Middle Eastern politics—do not read the slogan as neutral or merely humanitarian.

To many outsiders, land acknowledgments have become a textbook case of symbolic performative activism. What is presented as humility often reads as ritual: a scripted moral display that costs nothing, changes nothing, and signals ideological identity. Delivered most often in affluent, white progressive spaces with no intention of returning land, they function less as justice than as virtue signaling.

In short, many people do not experience these symbols as general, universal statements. They are widely understood—and often intended—as markers of specific ideological frameworks that go far beyond any common-language reading of the slogans. As a result, people may question or reject them not because they oppose racial or gender equality or humanitarian concern, but because they do not accept the ideological or political assumptions embedded in the symbols and slogans themselves.

Social psychology helps explain why this signaling is so powerful. In religion, politics, and commercial advertising, catchy symbols and slogans act as blunt cognitive shortcuts and are a powerful form of propaganda. They override conscious reasoning and critical thinking, compressing complex ideas into emotional cues that trigger identity, loyalty, and fear.

Clinical psychologist and former Evangelical Christian Valerie Tarico has observed that moralized secular movements can resemble religious fundamentalism, complete with sacred language, insider and outsider status, taboo questions, and purity tests. In her article “The Righteous and the Woke – Why Evangelicals and Social Justice Warriors Trigger Me in the Same Way,” Tarico writes that the language of progressive social justice activism closely resembles the linguistic patterns of the Evangelical Christianity she left.

Dylan Selterman, a social-personality psychologist at Johns Hopkins University, similarly observes that modern political alliances increasingly function like pseudo-religious tribes. Shared sacred symbols and insider jargon signal belonging, while dissent triggers social punishment. In the article “When Political Slogans Become Sacred,” Selterman writes that these dynamics satisfy deep psychological needs for identity and meaning, but at the cost of diversity, inclusivity, and productive dialogue with outsiders.

These dynamics are not unique to the left. Across ideologies, moralized slogans often sound universally positive while functioning as shorthand for specific political commitments. “Family values,” “states’ rights,” and “pro-life” all illustrate how morally appealing language can obscure ideological content while rewarding in-group recognition and discouraging scrutiny.

I saw this dynamic firsthand in the Unitarian Universalist congregation I attended, one example among many but a revealing one. Although the congregation abstractly promoted free thinking and freedom of belief, certain postmodernist ideological frameworks were introduced by activists, including in leadership, not as ideas to examine but as moral authorities to be followed. Members who expressed nuance or questioned the frameworks were labeled fragile, uneducated, and even bigots.

While the congregation has moved beyond that name-calling, it continues to institute progressive symbolism and theoretical frameworks, and the result is not greater diversity but greater homogeneity. Independent thinkers, old-school liberals, and moderates left the congregation, and new members and visitors are almost entirely highly educated, white progressives. An already white-dominant church has become only whiter and politically and culturally more narrow.

This homogeneity is not accidental. It is the predictable result of moralization, identity signaling, ideological symbolism, and conformity pressure. Over time, spaces that rely on these mechanisms do not become more diverse; they become more uniform. What remains is not pluralism, inclusion, and diversity, but a narrow bubble that feels welcoming only to those who already speak its language and share its culture and assumptions.

Genuine inclusion requires more than the right symbols. It requires tolerance for disagreement, respect for diverse viewpoints, and room for different ways of speaking. It requires treating people as individuals rather than as representatives of moral categories.

The question organizations should ask is not whether their symbols express the right values, but what those symbols actually do. Do they invite curiosity, dialogue, and difference, or do they function as loyalty tests? When a community keeps reproducing the same demographic and ideological profile, the answer may already be visible. Symbols meant to signal openness can just as easily become tools of filtration, sorting people not by character or goodwill, but by ideological compliance.

References and Further Reading

When Political Slogans Become Sacred — Psychology Professor Dylan Selterman, Psychology Today

The Seven Deadly Sins of Politi-Speak — Rural Urban Bridge Initiative Communications Director Erica Etelson, YES! Magazine

Decoding Political Propaganda: Slogans — Nabb Research Center, Salisbury University

The Righteous and the Woke: Why Evangelicals and Social Justice Warriors Trigger Me in the Same Way — Clinical psychologist Valerie Tarico

The Uselessness of Land Acknowledgments — Professor Jerry Coyne

u/rastancovitz — 24 days ago

It's suprising how many UU congregants don't understand what 'liberal religion' means and equate it with American liberal politics

Unitarian Universalism is a liberal religion. I am regularly surprised at how many current UU congregants, including longtime congregants, don't understand what liberal religion means, and mistakenly equate it with American liberal politics. (Which isn't a positive sign about the education system with the church and many congregations.) Many UUs would be shocked to learn that Barry Goldwater would have theolgically fit in a UU congregation.

The reprinted essay (link) below explains the different definitions of liberalism, including religious liberalism, and how many Americans get them mixed up.

The Different Definitions of Liberalism

Different definitions cause confusion for Americans

by David Cycleback, British Royal Institute of Philosophy

In the United States, there often are misunderstandings when someone uses the term liberal or liberalism. This is because Americans use different definitions for the terms than the rest of the world. Even many members of American religiously liberal churches, such as Unitarian Universalism and the United Church of Christ, misunderstand what liberal religion means.

Americans commonly associate “liberalism” and “liberal” with the political left and the American Democratic Party. However, liberal and liberalism as used in the wider world means classical liberalism.

Classical liberalism refers to a political and moral philosophy that supports, amongst other things, individual and human rights, equality, democracy, freedom of belief, economic and political freedom, and freedom of speech and the press. This form of liberalism includes people from the political left, center, and right. By this definition, an American Republican can also be a liberal.

When writing, I use both definitions. So there is no misunderstanding, I will say “American political liberalism” or “classical liberalism.”

Liberal religion or religious liberalism is classical liberalism in the context of religion and church. It contrasts with fundamentalist, dogmatic, and orthodox religions such as Calvinism and Haredi Judaism.

Many members of liberal churches, such as UU and UCC, mistakenly assume liberal religion refers to the American political left. This confusion is in part because most members of those churches are politically left.

The Wikipedia page on Unitarian Universalism explains it: “While political liberals make up a clear majority of Unitarian Universalists, the movement aspires to diversity, and officially welcomes congregants regardless of their political views. Politically conservative Unitarian Universalists point out that neither theological liberalism nor the Principles and Purposes of the UUA require liberal politics. Like the beliefs of Unitarian Universalists, politics are decided by individuals, not by congregations or the denomination.”

Barry Goldwater is a classic example of how someone can simultaneously be a political conservative and a religious liberal. Goldwater was “Mr. Conservative” and the 1964 Republican Presidential Nominee who promoted limited government and strictly following the U.S. Constitution. Raised by a Jewish father and a Christian mother, he was also a secular humanist, a supporter of religious freedom and pluralism, and a vocal opponent of religious dogmatism and mixing religion with politics. For Goldwater, liberty meant not only economic freedom but freedom in personal life.

Illiberalism means opposition to or lack of liberalism. Illiberalism includes opposition to or lack of freedom of thought, behavior, and speech, and lack of civil liberties. It is associated with fundamentalism, dogmatism, and intolerance. Illiberalism is found in both the political right and the political left.

u/rastancovitz — 26 days ago

Beyond Membership: The Other Numbers That Should Worry Unitarian Universalists

Reprinted below:

Beyond Membership: The Other Numbers That Should Worry Unitarian Universalists

Declining numbers of friends, children, and pledging households point to a bleak future.

by David Cycleback, Ph.D. (retired Director of the Center for Artifact Studies, member of the British Royal Institute of Philosophy, and author of the college textbook Cognitive Science of Religion and Belief Systems)

Unitarian Universalism’s decline is usually discussed in terms of membership. According to the Unitarian Universalist Association’s 2025 Certification Report, membership has fallen 15 percent over the last decade.

However, membership alone understates the problem. The numbers of non-member adults participating in congregations, children enrolled in religious education, and households supporting the church financially have also fallen sharply. Together, these declines show that UU is losing both current participants and the people who could help it rebuild.

Fewer friends, fewer potential members

The UUA tracks non-member friends as a separate category. These are people who participate in congregational life without formally joining. They often attend services, volunteer, contribute financially, and eventually become members.

According to the UUA’s report, non-member friends fell from approximately 99,000 in 2016 to 54,000 in 2025. That is a decline of about 45 percent in nine years, substantially steeper than the decline in formal membership. This includes a 4 percent drop in 2025 alone.

Friends are already part of the community, so losing them means losing current participants as well as potential members. A shrinking congregation gaining friends might be building relationships that eventually reverse its decline. Losing both groups makes recovery harder.

Fewer children, fewer younger families

Children’s religious education enrollment has fallen sharply over the past decade, including another 2 percent in 2025. Enrollment is down roughly 75 percent since the UUA’s formation in 1961 and just over 80 percent from its 1968 peak. Some children participate without formally enrolling, and changes in reporting complicate comparisons. Even so, the long-term decline raises doubts about whether enough children will remain involved as adults to sustain the denomination.

Smaller programs become less attractive to families. Fewer children mean fewer peers, while staff cuts limit classes and activities. In the certification report, the UUA says there are significant financial and membership pressures on religious educators and is seeking information about reduced and eliminated positions.

Dan Harper, a UU minister and former religious education director who has raised alarms about declining religious education enrollment and overall church membership, writes that children’s religious education is a key way to attract young adults to the church. Parents often arrive seeking a religious community for their children and remain after those children grow up.

Retaining members is essential to future health

Ryan Burge, a professor at Washington University’s Danforth Center on Religion and Politics and author of The Vanishing Church, calls retention “the most important metric for any church or denomination.” He argues that keeping children involved as they become adults is essential to sustaining a religious movement for decades. Over the long term, recruiting newcomers is not a substitute for retaining members.

UU has substantially worse retention rates than other denominations. UU minister Christana Wille-McKnight’s research reported retention of just 12.5 percent among those raised Unitarian Universalist, compared with 44 percent among Presbyterians and 48 percent in the United Church of Christ.

Fewer households supporting congregations

The UUA reported that pledging units have fallen 22 percent over the decade. Average pledges rose, but total pledged dollars increased only 11 percent. After adjusting for inflation, the increase in average pledges is much smaller, while total pledging has declined.

A congregation that depends on a small and shrinking group of donors is vulnerable when those donors leave, die, or can no longer give as much. Larger gifts from a shrinking group can also mask serious structural and retention problems. A congregation may appear financially stable while losing members, families, volunteers, friends, and future leaders. The generosity of remaining donors is valuable, but it is not evidence that the community is healthy or growing.

Large church endowments and reserves from earlier generations provide a substantial cushion, but legacy money cannot replace participation. Some congregations, mostly small ones, are growing, and a congregation’s decline is not inevitable. Nationally, however, declines in non-member friends, religious education enrollment, and pledging units show that UU’s ability to rebuild is shrinking along with its membership.

A narrower church has fewer people to draw from

In my experience and observation, and that of other longtime UUs I know, the church has become more politically, ideologically, and culturally narrow. This has driven away longtime members who are more moderate, classically liberal, or seeking a community centered on religion and spirituality rather than politics. I have described my former UU congregation as a “social club and bubble for college-educated white progressives.”

Being a religious liberal does not require being a political progressive, although church leaders often seem to treat the two as inseparable. Religious liberalism concerns freedom of belief, open inquiry, and the rejection of imposed religious dogma. Religious liberals can be politically progressive, liberal, moderate, libertarian, and conservative.

I am a religious liberal and an agnostic Sephardic Jew who joined a UU congregation more than a decade ago because of its freedom from imposed dogma and creeds, its principle of the inherent worth and dignity of every person, and because I enjoy being around curious and open-minded people with diverse beliefs, perspectives, and backgrounds. However, I am a political moderate, not a progressive, and I do not go to church for partisan politics and political activism.

As the congregation came to be designed almost exclusively for white political progressives and to treat progressive politics and ideology as the de facto orthodoxy, it was no longer a place for me and many other longtime members. These included fellow religious liberals who were not political progressives, wanted a more diverse community, or objected to a self-proclaimed non-creedal church that seemed to have adopted a political creed. When a liberal religion drives away religious liberals, something is clearly wrong.

Following substantial membership losses, my former congregation’s approach to growth has been to narrow who it is for and work to attract more people who fit that narrow profile, while pushing away existing members and failing to attract others who do not.

Even if this produces short-term gains in membership, it is a short-sighted and counterproductive approach to long-term growth, let alone to creating a diverse, liberal community. A shrinking church with poor retention and an increasingly narrow demographic should welcome religious liberals with a broader range of perspectives and backgrounds. Rebuilding requires giving more people reasons to join and longtime members and friends reasons to stay.

I see a bleak future for UU. UU insiders such as Harper, minister and philosopher of religion Davidson Loehr, and author John Halstead have warned about decline. Loehr and Halstead describe a dying church, while Harper predicts that many congregations will close in the coming years. Their warnings, together with the work of religion scholars Burge, Dean M. Kelley, Rodney Stark, and Roger Finke, reinforce my conclusion that replacing spirituality with partisan politics and narrowing whom the church is for undermines its future.

I discuss this further in my earlier post, “How the Unitarian Universalist Church Became a Racial, Political, and Social Bubble.”

References and further reading

Unitarian Universalist Association. 2025 Certification Report.

Burge, Ryan. “What About the Unitarians?”

Harper, Dan. “Time to Panic.”

Halstead, John. “ My Church Is Dying, and I’m OK with That.”

Burge, Ryan. “So You Want Your Child to Keep the Faith?”

Canadian Unitarian Council. 2017 presentation on retaining young people raised UU.

Harper, Dan. “The Problem of Retention in Unitarian Universalism.”

Loehr, Davidson. “Why ‘Unitarian Universalism’ Is Dying.”

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u/rastancovitz — 1 month ago
▲ 49 r/UUreddit+1 crossposts

"How the Unitarian Universalist Church Became a Racial, Political, and Social Bubble"

Reprinted below:

How the Unitarian Universalist Church Became a Racial, Political, and Social Bubble

And Why It's Getting Worse

by David Cycleback Ph.D. (retired Director of Center for Artifact Studies, member of the British Royal Institute of Philosophy, and author of the university textbook Cognitive Science of Religion and Belief Systems and The Power of the Crowd: How Group Psychology Influences Beliefs and Behavior).

The Unitarian Universalist church presents itself as a liberal religious movement committed to pluralism, diversity, multiculturalism, and open-mindedness. Yet by most measurable indicators, it has become one of the most racially, politically, and culturally homogeneous religious denominations in the United States.

The gap between the church’s ideals and its demographic reality raises an obvious question: How did a movement devoted to diversity and freethinking become such a narrow social bubble?

Visitors to Unitarian Universalist congregations usually notice a familiar pattern. In many places, the typical member is a highly educated white professional with progressive political views. Visitors from working-class backgrounds, people with independent or moderate viewpoints, immigrant communities, and many ethnic and racial minorities often sense quickly that they are outsiders. No one may say this directly, but messaging, platforms, language, and social signals are powerful. People can usually tell when a space is designed for people like themselves, and when it is not. As UU Minister Rev. James Kubal-Komoto observed in UU World, "Most Unitarian Universalists don't realize what a truly narrow demographic niche most of us fall into."

The Demographic Reality

The demographic facts are clear. National surveys and denominational data consistently show that a large majority of Unitarian Universalists, including both laity and religious professionals (ministers and religious education directors), are white, with only small percentages of black, Latino, Asian, and members of other racial and ethnic minority groups. By several measures, the Unitarian Universalist church is among the most racially and ethnically homogeneous religious movements in the United States.

Membership is also unusually highly educated, drawn largely from the professional middle and upper-middle classes, and disproportionately female, with one of the highest percentages of women among American religious denominations.

Politically, Unitarian Universalist congregations lean strongly toward the Democratic and progressive side of American politics. Surveys consistently rank Unitarian Universalism as one of the most politically far-left, politically homogenous, and politically active religious denominations in the United States.

At the same time, the denomination has experienced a marked decline in membership. Like mainline Protestant denominations such as the United Church of Christ and the Episcopal Church, Unitarian Universalism faces shrinking congregations and an aging membership base. Adjusted for overall U.S. population growth, UUA membership has fallen by more than half and children’s religious education enrollment has fallen by more than 80 percent since the UUA was formed in 1961. In absolute numbers, participation (members and non-member friends) has fallen by more than a quarter in the last decade. While multiple factors are involved, a key driver is demographic and ideological narrowing, which reduces the range of people who feel comfortable joining and remaining in UU communities.

These patterns do not necessarily prove something has gone wrong. Many voluntary organizations cluster demographically, culturally, and ideologically. However, when a religious movement that says it is committed to diversity and pluralism consistently attracts people from only a narrow demographic and political slice of society while also declining in membership, the pattern deserves examination.

Viewpoint Diversity

Viewpoint diversity has always been central to liberal religion. Liberal religion is built on the idea that individuals search for truth rather than accept a fixed creed. A liberal congregation should be a place where religious liberals with different perspectives and backgrounds, who agree on the principles of equality and the inherent worth and dignity of every person, can learn from one another. Dogmatism, echo chambers, and groupthink are therefore the antithesis of liberal religion.

Although many UUs associate liberal religion with leftist politics, religious liberalism has no political creed. Religious liberalism, which is distinct from American political liberalism, emphasizes freedom of belief, open inquiry, and the rejection of imposed religious dogma. Religious liberals include people who are politically progressive, liberal, moderate, libertarian, and conservative. As with theological beliefs, political beliefs are decided by individuals, not by congregations or the denomination.

Viewpoint diversity is also essential for other forms of diversity. Differences in race, culture, religion, gender, nationality, and class can bring different knowledge, life experiences, and perspectives. Communities that welcome a range of viewpoints tend to attract people from different backgrounds, while communities that narrow acceptable viewpoints narrow socially as well. In this way, viewpoint diversity and demographic diversity reinforce one another.

An overtly political congregation that implicitly expects members to share the same political positions, and presents only a very narrow range of perspectives from the pulpit and in its publications and programming, will tend to attract people who already fit that profile. People with different viewpoints and cultural and social backgrounds, along with those seeking a church focused on spirituality rather than politics, are unlikely to join. Over time, ideological uniformity produces social uniformity.

Scholars of religion have found that this carries long-term institutional costs. Ryan Burge, a professor at Washington University’s Danforth Center on Religion and Politics and author of The Vanishing Church, has documented this damage to denominations with politically diverse memberships, particularly mainline Protestant churches. As these churches and their clergy became more politically narrow and partisan, they appealed to fewer Americans and alienated many members of their own congregations, contributing to massive membership losses over decades.

Over the past fifty years, sociologists of religion Dean M. Kelley (National Council of Churches), Rodney Stark (University of Washington), and Roger Finke (Penn State University and the Association of Religion Data Archives) have found that religious groups tend to grow when they offer a distinctive religious or spiritual identity and commitments that secular institutions cannot replace, and decline when political and secular causes displace that focus. When a church offers essentially the same programming, messages, and causes as political, advocacy, and other secular organizations, people have less reason to join or remain.

In his 2004 sermon “Why Unitarian Universalism Is Dying,” philosopher of religion and UU minister Davidson Loehr argued that the movement had been declining for decades and would continue to do so because its focus had shifted from its distinctive religious and spiritual identity to politics.

Historical Roots of Homogeneity

The Unitarian Universalist church’s demographic pattern did not appear suddenly. The tradition has long been socially and racially homogeneous. The Unitarian and Universalist movements that merged in 1961 emerged largely from white New England Protestant culture and were historically concentrated among educated communities.

For much of their history, these congregations reflected the social environment from which they came. They were shaped by educated, professional networks that were themselves relatively homogeneous. The demographic imbalance therefore has deep historical roots.

When Attempted Solutions Make Things Worse

In recent years, leaders and activists within the church have tried to address this lack of racial diversity. National initiatives and institutional statements have focused heavily on racial inclusion and anti-racism. The intentions behind these efforts have been sincere.

Yet despite these efforts, Unitarian Universalist Association (UUA) membership reports show that racial minority membership, both in absolute numbers and as a percentage, has declined over the last decade and a half. The reports also show that religious professionals are even more likely to be white than the laity.

A central problem is that these diversity initiatives have become expressions of a particular ideological subculture. When diversity and inclusion are defined solely through a progressive political, cultural, and linguistic framework, they signal that full participation requires embracing that framework as well. Rather than broadening a congregation's appeal, they reinforce the perception, and often the social reality, that membership requires conforming to a specific set of ideological assumptions and cultural and linguistic norms. This discourages people from different backgrounds, cultures, and perspectives from joining. For a denomination that presents itself as pluralistic and non-creedal, this is a striking contradiction.

This dynamic reflects broader patterns in American society. Political and ideological progressivism is concentrated disproportionately among affluent, white, urban, college-educated professionals. Pew Research Center surveys show that even within the Democratic Party, the progressive wing is the smallest of the major ideological factions and the only one with a majority-white membership. Racial minorities, working-class Americans, and immigrants are politically diverse, and most hold more moderate or conservative views. For example, while a majority of black voters belong to the Democratic Party, seven in ten identify as moderate or conservative, with more than half as moderate.

A national church and congregations that strongly align with progressive activism, especially when progressivism functions as a de facto institutional orthodoxy, therefore signal a political, social, cultural, and linguistic environment associated with a narrow demographic and ideological segment of the population.

These initiatives have also been accompanied by a broader cultural shift within the church toward what social psychologist Jonathan Haidt calls safetyism: the belief that protecting emotional comfort should take precedence over open disagreement. In practice, this has included suspicion toward debate, skepticism toward traditional appeals to reason and evidence, and criticism of viewpoint diversity itself. This culture discourages people who are comfortable with debate and intellectual challenge from joining, while attracting those who seek an emotionally protective environment where potentially upsetting ideas and conflicts are suppressed.

When disagreement is interpreted through this lens, the range of acceptable viewpoints narrows. Over time, pressure toward conformity grows, reinforcing the groupthink that liberal religion historically sought to avoid.

The result is that most UU congregations appear politically, intellectually, and culturally narrow to potential visitors from minority, working-class, immigrant, and politically diverse communities. Even when racial and ethnic minorities join, they are drawn largely from a small and unrepresentative segment of their communities. Racial and ethnic diversity can increase slightly, but viewpoint diversity remains limited.

A Denomination That Once Had More Political Variety

The Unitarian Universalist church has long leaned politically left. However, earlier generations of congregations contained a wider range of viewpoints within that general orientation. Libertarians, progressives, moderate Democrats, independents, religious seekers, and politically unclassifiable members shared the same congregation. There were even political conservatives, with a national group for conservative UUs. Disagreement and debate were part of the culture.

Over the past decades, this internal range has narrowed substantially.

How Social Bubbles Form

Communities usually don’t become homogeneous by design. It usually happens through ordinary social processes. One of the strongest is homophily, the tendency for people to associate with others who are similar to themselves. This idea is encapsulated by the saying, “Birds of a feather flock together.”

Homophily is not inherently a problem. Many healthy and productive groups are built around shared identities, interests, values, beliefs, and cultures. Scandinavian Lutheran, Ukrainian Orthodox, Hispanic Catholic, and black Baptist congregations, as well as Turkish mosques and Sephardic synagogues, are composed mostly of people from the same ethnic and cultural backgrounds. The same is true of ethnic and cultural associations, veterans’ organizations, and political organizations, which naturally bring together people with similar backgrounds, experiences, or beliefs.

The danger arises when group homogeneity develops into dogmatism, closed-mindedness, self-righteousness, and ignorance about and bigotry toward outsiders.

A community that is relatively homogeneous both demographically and ideologically can counter these natural but destructive group tendencies by cultivating intellectual humility, actively welcoming internal disagreement, inviting outside speakers and perspectives, and educating members about unfamiliar beliefs, cultures, backgrounds, and ideas.

However, when people spend most of their time around others who share similar backgrounds, values, and assumptions, and only a narrow and self-reinforcing range of views is heard and considered, human group psychology tends to make those assumptions seem increasingly normal, obvious, and self-evident. Harvard legal scholar and group behavior expert Cass Sunstein describes this process as group polarization. Related research by social psychologists Muzafer Sherif and Henri Tajfel likewise shows that strong group identities can strengthen internal cohesion while also increasing tribal us-versus-them thinking, narrowing intellectual diversity, and reducing members’ ability to understand and effectively communicate with people who hold different beliefs and come from different groups.

A broader pattern of political sorting across American institutions reinforces these dynamics. As communities become identified with a particular political identity, people who feel comfortable with that identity remain, while those who do not gradually leave or choose not to join. Over time, this political homogeneity becomes increasingly self-reinforcing.

Moralizing of Beliefs

Many observers have also noticed a growing moral tone attached to political views. In earlier UU culture, political and philosophical disagreements were treated as part of the normal exchange of ideas. Increasingly, however, some political positions are framed not as arguments but as moral mandates.

The national leadership sets this trend. The UUA, affiliated organizations, and an increasing number of ministers take explicit positions aligned with progressive activism, often presenting them as unquestionable moral truths. As a result, many members and visitors experience UU congregations not primarily as spiritual centers but as hubs for moralized political activism.

Social psychologists Haidt and Philip Tetlock have shown that people can come to treat their political and ideological beliefs not simply as opinions but as representations of sacred values that should not be questioned or negotiated. Once beliefs become moralized in this way, disagreement is no longer seen as an ordinary difference of opinion but as morally wrong. Political theorist Jonathan Rauch, a leading advocate of liberal democracy and free inquiry, argues that liberal societies depend on treating ideas as open to questioning and critique rather than as untouchable truths.

When political and ideological views are moralized within a community, open inquiry gives way to social pressure and increasing ideological conformity. Members become less willing to voice doubts, ask difficult questions, and consider alternative perspectives. Over time, those who disagree or are uncomfortable with an environment that expects ideological conformity increasingly self-censor, disengage, or leave. As they do, the community becomes increasingly more ideologically homogeneous, further reinforcing the pressure to conform.

Why This Matters

Demographic, cultural, and ideological homogeneity shape how communities think and behave. When most members share similar backgrounds and assumptions, blind spots become harder to recognize. A group may feel thoughtful internally while gradually losing contact with perspectives outside its demographic and social bubble.

For a movement built around the free search for truth, intellectual and spiritual openness requires not only curiosity but also the presence of people who see the world differently and exposure to diverse perspectives and ideas, including from outside the congregation and denomination.

Where This Leaves the Unitarian Universalist Church

The Unitarian Universalist church remains a thoughtful and ethically serious religious tradition. At the same time, national data and congregational experience show that the movement has become more racially, culturally, and politically homogeneous than its ideals would suggest.

Liberal religion historically presented itself as a place where people with different backgrounds, beliefs, and experiences could meet in honest conversation. That aspiration requires social and intellectual conditions that allow disagreement, curiosity, and genuine diversity of perspectives. When a religious community becomes socially and politically narrow, the free search for truth gradually becomes a conversation among people who already think alike.

The central question facing the Unitarian Universalist church and congregations is simple: whether they wish to remain a community of open inquiry or continue evolving into an increasingly narrow, exclusive, and shrinking denomination.

References

American Religious Identification Survey (ARIS): Unitarian Universalist Socio-Demographic Analyses (1990–2008).

Burge, Ryan P. (2026). The Vanishing Church: How the Hollowing Out of Moderate Congregations Is Hurting Democracy, Faith, and Us. Brazos Press.

Burge, Ryan P. “What About the Unitarians?” Graphs About Religion.

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Haidt, Jonathan. (2012). The Righteous Mind: Why Good People Are Divided by Politics and Religion. Pantheon Books.

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Loehr, Davidson. (2005). “Why Unitarian Universalism Is Dying.” Journal of Liberal Religion.

Lukianoff, G., & Haidt, J. (2018). The Coddling of the American Mind: How Good Intentions and Bad Ideas Are Setting Up a Generation for Failure. Penguin Press.

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