Can American Religion Reach a Tipping Point?

Part two of my examination of Christian Smith's book

TL;DR

Christian Smith argues that American religion declined because culture shifted and churches lost their distinctiveness. Malcolm Gladwell argues that big change happens when small actions accumulate into a “tipping point.” Taken together, both suggest that renewal in American Christianity—if it comes at all—will depend on context, a compelling message, and the right mix of people faithfully doing small things that matter.

I just finished reading Christian Smith’s Why Religion Went Obsolete. For my initial thoughts on the book, see my previous post. For this one, I’d like to bring Smith into conversation with Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point and consider how American religion might find a way back—not through clever strategy alone, but only by the grace of God and the movement of the Holy Spirit, at least in the case of Christianity. Still, we can pay attention to what we can learn from these two important thinkers.

To begin, in Smith’s book, he argues that American religion didn’t decline because secularism defeated it, but because massive cultural shifts—and self-inflicted mistakes by both Mainline Protestantism and Evangelicalism—made traditional religion unnecessary, incoherent, or unconvincing. As American culture changed, religion lost its distinctiveness, moral authority, and ability to form identity, leaving it vulnerable to being replaced by more compelling “quasi-religions” like sports, politics, wellness, and expressive individualism.

Throughout the book, Smith repeatedly talked about “context” and even “tipping points,” which brought to mind Gladwell’s argument that big social changes happen the same way epidemics spread: small actions build quietly until they hit a “tipping point,” and then everything accelerates fast. Change doesn’t require massive effort—just the right mix of influential people, a message that sticks, and a context primed for shift. When those elements line up, transformation spreads rapidly and unexpectedly. Bringing these thinkers together, there might be some interesting takeaways for those hoping to see an uptick within American Christianity today.

Context is Key

Gladwell writes:

“The lesson of the Power of Context is that we are more than just sensitive to changes in context. We’re exquisitely sensitive to them. And the kinds of contextual changes that are capable of tipping an epidemic are very different than we might ordinarily suspect.” (140)

And here’s Smith sounding very similar:

“Cultural meanings often shift—less through conscious belief formation, more through the repetition of concepts and images that evoke powerful emotions.” (176)

Gladwell again:

“The Power of Context is an environmental argument. It says that behavior is a function of social context.” (150)

This is essentially the core of Smith’s argument. While he readily acknowledges that American Traditional Religion has inflicted plenty of wounds on itself, his broader point—and the reason he says religion has gone obsolete—is that the cultural context has shifted so dramatically. In short, American culture today encourages people to be almost anything but religious.

As Smith puts it:

“Significant social transformations do not happen overnight. They do not necessarily come with advance warning, either. What can appear to be dramatic transformations are usually the result of trends, events, and forces long in the making.” (365)

A Message That Matters

Gladwell notes:

“For a social epidemic to start, some people are actually going to have to be persuaded to do something.” (69)

In Gladwell’s context, persuasion might mean buying shoes or cleaning up their act. But the point remains: there must be a meaningful call to action.

Too many churches put out messages like, “If you’re in X city on Y date, come join us at church.” Hardly compelling. And we’ve done the same thing with the Christian message—especially in Mainline contexts.

Smith writes:

“When religion becomes a ‘concept’… rather than one’s identity, life, and salvation, it generates less commitment and investment.” (116)

If the message doesn’t matter, nothing else will.

The Right Mix of Influential People

Gladwell argues that tipping points require the right mix of people—information mavens, connectors, and salespeople. These are the people who help ideas spread because human beings are influenced not only by what we believe, but by who we spend time with.

Gladwell writes:

“We’re friends with the people we do things with, as much as we are with the people we resemble. We don’t seek out friends, in other words. We associate with the people who occupy the same small, physical spaces that we do.” (35)

And again:

“The convictions of your heart and the actual contents of your thoughts are less important, in the end, in guiding your actions than the immediate context of your behavior.” (165)

This is perhaps most evident in church life. Most people don’t join a church because they’ve carefully examined its doctrinal statements. They join because the people are kind, the kids’ program is great, or the pastor communicates well. Context matters. But almost always, that context includes a few influential people—a warm greeter, a gifted kids’ ministry leader, a caring pastor. I’ve yet to see a thriving church without at least some of these kinds of people.

Ultimately, change begins with those closest to us. Smith reminds readers:

“The strongest statistical association with being religious as an adult is having been raised religiously as a child. Parents are usually the most important influence shaping the religious lives of American youth.” (371)

There’s an obsession in America—including the religious left—to find the next “Joe Rogan,” someone who will single-handedly shift public perception. But Rogan isn’t a stereotypical influencer; he simply has long, interesting conversations with interesting people. In Gladwell’s terms, he’s more of a connector than anything else.

It’s On Us

All of this leads me to think that change is, ultimately, on us. There’s an American obsession with “moon-shots”—big, dramatic, risky actions that either explode spectacularly or collapse in failure. That narrative works because we can either valorize the leader of such efforts or blame them when things fall apart. What we don’t have to do is the harder work of evaluating what actually worked or didn’t.

But Gladwell suggests that real change is usually much more ordinary:

“The Band-Aid solution is actually the best kind of solution because it involves solving a problem with the minimum amount of effort and time and cost… We have an instinctive disdain for this kind of solution because something in us believes true answers must be comprehensive… that slow and steady should win the race.” (256)

Smith ends his book with something similar:

“Among the more unlikely but not impossible of history’s surprises would be if American traditional religions turned their difficult predicament into an opportunity for self-critical soul-searching. What, finally, are they trying to do and why? What are essential to their traditions’ core identities and missions—without which they would not be themselves—versus cultural positions that may seem nonnegotiable but are actually liabilities?” (372)

Which brings me to this…

A Part 3?

This was supposed to be a two-part series, but I’m realizing I have enough material for a Part 3. Next time, I want to highlight some interesting present-day examples in our culture and explore whether they line up with Gladwell’s and Smith’s ideas on cultural change and tipping points.

Stay tuned.