The Urgent Need for Reinhold Niebuhr

Time Magazine cover: Reinhold Niebuhr, March 8, 1948

There was once a time in America when philosophers, theologians, and public intellectuals who thought deeply and critically about the world were respected and uplifted by American society. From 1926 to 1962, influential theologians like Reinhold Niebuhr, Paul Tillich, Karl Barth, Henry Sloane Coffin, and C.S. Lewis each appeared on the cover of Time magazine. Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel was frequently quoted in Time, and the magazine did an extensive profile of him in 1956. The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., appeared on Time’s cover three times prior to his assassination in 1968. Until the 1990s, Time devoted one page every week to a section on Religion and Theology. It is impossible to know how much this mattered in the halls of power, but for most of the 20th Century, Time was a pillar of the media landscape and one of the most highly read publications in the world.

Time’s attention to religion and theology may have simply reflected a more homogeneous American society, a time when many of our elite institutions were dominated by liberal Protestantism. By the latter half of the 20th century, America had gradually transformed into a more pluralistic, multi-ethnic, multi-religious, and increasingly secular society that paid far less attention to theologians and religious institutions. But before the mid-1960s, Reinhold Niebuhr, who taught at the Union Theological Seminary in New York for over 30 years, was among the most influential theologians in modern American history.

Niebuhr wrote and lectured frequently about the intersection of theology, history, foreign policy, politics, and culture. He had a deep sense of history and its importance in explaining the human experience within the larger scheme of things. And he reminded Americans that, even as the most powerful nation on earth, we are but a small and limited part of a wider human story.

Niebuhr was deeply committed to social justice, stemming from his days as a young pastor in 1920’s Detroit fighting the oppressive working conditions on Henry Ford’s assembly lines. He believed deeply in the workings of democracy. Niebuhr’s writings blended a progressive drive for social activism with a deeply conservative skepticism of human perfectibility. He favored bold actions to advance the cause of justice. But he rejected utopian thinking and realistically appraised the human condition as morally ambiguous. His pragmatism appealed to liberals and conservatives alike. Barack Obama once called Niebuhr “one of my favorite philosophers.” Other prominent admirers of Niebuhr included Democrats Hillary Clinton and Hubert Humphrey and Republicans John McCain and Jeanne Kirkpatrick, former UN Ambassador to Ronald Reagan.

Although he started out as a Christian pacifist, in the 1930s Niebuhr watched with growing alarm the rise of Hitler and Stalin. He came to view Christian pacifism as an inadequate response to the global threats of fascism and totalitarianism. To address this deficiency, he developed a philosophy known as Christian realism, which examines the world as it is, not as we want it to be. As the United States tilted towards isolationism in 1940, Niebuhr pushed for America to aid Britain in its fight against the Nazis. He championed U.S. intervention in World War II because the future of democracy and the entire world order was under attack.

Niebuhr believed that human beings are by nature sinful, afflicted with excessive pride and a self-preoccupation that frequently results in moral blindness. For Niebuhr, this was an empirical fact rooted in history and experience. Moreover, the consequences of humanity’s proclivity for sin were more damaging when committed by institutions and groups, especially nations.

Although most Americans today are turned off by the traditional concept of “sin” and prefer other words to describe a fallen or lost humanity, Niebuhr’s views resonated in the generation that wrestled with the moral depravity of Hitler and Stalin, the Holocaust, Hiroshima and Nagasaki, the ever-present threat of nuclear annihilation, racial injustice, and economic inequality. When Time put a troubled-looking Niebuhr on the cover of its magazine on March 8, 1948, it accompanied it with the caption, “Man’s story is not a success story.”

An objective assessment of human history supports Niebuhr’s beliefs about the nature of man. One need not be a Christian theologian to recognize that humanity is deeply flawed. My Jewish father-in-law, a professor of anthropology and psychology, often said (only half-jokingly) about the human race when he was alive, “We are a rotten species.” However one phrases it, the essential truth remains, human beings are by nature blinded by self-interest and morally indifferent to injustice, even if we have the capacity and desire to do good. It is why moral leadership is so important in institutions and in nations.

Following the war, Niebuhr was an early proponent of Cold War strategy as a necessary deterrent to Soviet expansionism. But he became increasingly disillusioned with the excessive use of American power throughout the world and was an outspoken critic of American hubris and overreaching arrogance. In the Irony of American History (1952), Niebuhr warned against the dangers of imperialism and exaggerated claims of American virtue:

A nation with an inordinate degree of political power is doubly tempted to exceed the bounds of historical possibilities, if it is informed by an idealism which does not understand the limits of man’s wisdom and volition in history.

Imperialism is a perennial problem of human existence; for powerful nations and individuals inevitably tend to use the weak as instruments of their purposes.

Niebuhr believed that America’s certainty of its own righteousness led to the tragedy of Vietnam, which he called “the most pointless, costly, and bloody war in our history.” He wrote presciently about the hazards of America believing in its own inherent goodness. To confidently assume that we alone have the capacity to eliminate evil and spread freedom in the world, clouds our judgment in the exercise of military and economic power. The complexity of the world requires a great deal of humility; American myths and illusions distort our self-understanding as a nation.

Having supported American efforts in World War II and the early stages of the Cold War, and having lived through and witnessed the horrors of the twentieth century, Niebuhr agreed that war was sometimes necessary to confront evil. He cautioned, however, that the exercise of military power must be a measured undertaking and not part of a holy crusade. Any decision to engage in war must be made with a sense of human tragedy and a profound concern for innocent human life. He warned that envy and pride would lead to our downfall.

Toward the end of his life, Niebuhr developed a close friendship with his Morningside Heights neighbor, Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel. Like Heschel, Niebuhr’s theological thinking was greatly influenced by the Hebrew prophets. He shared with them a belief that morality and politics are closely connected and that the fate of the earth rests on humanity.

It was why Niebuhr recognized the imperative of a vital democracy in a free society. “Man’s capacity for justice makes democracy possible,” Niebuhr wrote, “but man’s inclination to injustice makes democracy necessary.” According to Richard Crouther, professor of religious studies at Carleton College and author of Reinhold Niebuhr: On Politics, Religion, and Christian Faith (Oxford University Press, 2010), “Like most of us, Niebuhr knew in his heart that we must affirm and appeal to a higher moral order amid the daily challenges of our individual and collective lives. What gives depth to his teaching is the constant appeal to history and the facts of our experience as limited humans who are surrounded by the crises of a troubled and perplexing world.”

Perhaps Niebuhr is too complex a thinker for America in the 21st century. But America could certainly use his wisdom and guidance today. On September 22, the president of the United States stood on the podium of the United Nations and threatened to “annihilate” the Iranian people and drive them “into hell with no chance of survival.” It was not the first time Trump had threatened to annihilate an entire civilization. The irony of such a statement before this international body, created in response to the bloodiest and most violent conflict in human history to promote world peace and international cooperation, should not be lost on anyone.  

Niebuhr would have been horrified by President Trump’s willingness to threaten friends and upset alliances cultivated and nurtured through 80 years of diplomacy and mutual trust. He would have condemned this administration’s military adventurism and unilateral exercises of power to suit its own ends—the U.S. war of choice in Iran; the unprovoked military invasion of Venezuela; Trump declaring “to the victor belong the spoils” to justify his claims on Venezuelan oil reserves; the illegal and extrajudicial killings of 227 civilians in the Caribbean Sea and Pacific Ocean; the president’s threats to invade Cuba, Mexico, Colombia, Canada, Greenland, Panama, and Oman; his military strikes on seven other countries in the past 18 months; and his utter disregard for international law and diplomacy.

It would have been unthinkable in Niebuhr’s time for a U.S. president to tell The New York Times, as Trump did, that the only limit on his power is “my own morality, my own mind—it’s the only thing that can stop me.” Indeed, no modern president would have so easily dismissed international law and norms established by the United States and its allies after World War II to maintain world stability and prevent another world war.  

Niebuhr would have spoken prophetically against Trump’s repeated lies that human-caused climate change is a “hoax,” most recently spewed by Trump at the United Nations. Niebuhr believed that, only when humanity has the moral will and practical wisdom to assume responsibility for the consequences of our collective actions, will we have the capacity to protect the earth, and with it, all of humanity.

Niebuhr also would have recoiled at the absurdity and arrogance of Trump’s insistence on the geographical designations “Lake of America” and “Gulf of America” and his promise to “make America great again.” Niebuhr was harshly critical of American idolatry and blind patriotism. He rejected unreflective assertions of America as the “greatest country on earth,” which disregards how America empirically compares to other countries on such things as universal access to health care, income inequality, and other matters of economic and political justice.

Niebuhr embraced American idealism and the ability of American democracy to correct past injustices at home and excesses abroad. But he was suspicious of “true believers,” people who never have doubts. For Niebuhr, an element of moral doubt was necessary for self-awareness, for people and nations. He was concerned about “a deep layer of messianic consciousness in the mind of America” that could eventually lead us astray.

As the historian Arthur Schlesinger, Jr., a great admirer of Niebuhr, once wrote: “History is the best antidote to delusion of omnipotence and omniscience. Self-knowledge is the indispensable prelude to self-control for the nation as well as the individual, and history should forever remind us of the limits of our passing perspectives.”

It is unlikely that Trump is acquainted with the intellectual legacy of Reinhold Niebuhr and his pivotal role in shaping twentieth-century American thought. But the modern world desperately needs Niebuhr’s moral wisdom to counter Trump’s celebration of power over principle, personal ego over morality, and raw self-interest over international law.

At the end of The Irony of American History, Niebuhr ominously warned what can happen to a great nation blinded by overreaching pride, arrogance, and moral blindness:

For if we should perish, the ruthlessness of the foe would be only the secondary cause of the disaster. The primary cause would be that the strength of a giant nation was directed by eyes too blind to see all the hazards of the struggle; and the blindness would be induced not by some accident of nature or history, but by hatred and vainglory.

The Football Dilemma

St. Augustine High School football, New Orleans, Louisiana

No sport inspires the passions and loyalties of Americans more than football. From September through December, Friday night lights dominate the American landscape, when the local high school football teams suit up to play their cross-county rivals. In hard-luck towns across America, high school football provides a unity of purpose, a place where the glory days of old are re-lived by aging men with aching bodies, and the struggles of everyday life are temporarily set aside to enjoy the youthful athleticism of young men who provide hope of a glorious future. Black or white, liberal or conservative, Christian or atheist, nothing brings people of diverse backgrounds together, or promotes community unity better, than football. From the forgotten towns of rural America to neglected inner-city housing projects, the local football field is where the American Dream comes true.

Like many young American boys then and now, football was the sport that most competed with my love of baseball and basketball. Every fall, starting in grade school and throughout my high school years, I looked forward to watching football on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. My friends and I played flag football games in the backyard and on the school fields of my youth. We played Strat-O-Matic Football in the basements and family rooms of our childhood homes (see “Strat-O-Matic Memories: The Football Years”). I looked up to the star football players who walked around town with varsity jackets on their backs and pretty cheerleaders by their sides.

The popularity of football is why high schools across the country devote disproportionately large percentages of their limited capital and operating budgets to sustain high-end football programs, even in poor communities that cannot afford a full-time librarian or consistently underperform academically. Although the child poverty rate in Valdosta, Georgia, exceeds 33%, and although 84% of school-aged children in the district are considered economically disadvantaged, the school district recently spent $15 million on a new 83,000-square foot indoor training facility that includes a 100-yard turf field, offense/defense meeting rooms, and an expanded kitchen. Similar examples can be found in every state and region of the country. From small, economically-depressed towns in western Pennsylvania, to poorly funded, working-class communities throughout rural Texas, under-resourced communities pour money into their local high school football programs as if they are non-negotiable budget priorities.

The financial priorities of the nation’s colleges and universities are even more out of whack. A successful football program at a Division I school requires hundreds of millions of dollars to pay for and maintain an 80,000-seat stadium, first-class practice fields, indoor gyms, and locker room facilities. The head football coaches at top-ranked Division I schools earn salaries in excess of $5 million to $10 million per year. At many state universities, a head football coach is the highest paid public employee in their state. Even some relatively small universities pay their head football coaches over $1 million per year, funding their programs through mandatory (and excessively high) student fees and university budget subsidies.

Football in America is big business. Last year, the NFL recorded $23 billion in revenues. Its commissioner is paid $64 million per year. Each NFL team’s salary cap exceeds $300 million (for player salaries), and the legalization of sports gambling has brought billions of more dollars into the NFL. Team valuations have more than doubled in ten years, and even poorly performing teams are valued at close to $10 billion. Every Sunday (and Monday and Thursday), the NFL commands the nation’s attention on five major networks (ABC, CBS, ESPN, NBC, FOX). College football fills the airwaves on Saturdays. The most elite college players now earn hundreds of thousands, and in some cases, millions of dollars for use of their name, image, and likeness. The games are played in major cathedrals before capacity crowds.

The young men who play the game are adored and uplifted and treated as special people … until they can no longer perform. And then they are forgotten.

A recent study published in the British Medical Journal and reported extensively over the past two weeks has forced me to consider some uncomfortable truths, about American society’s love affair with football, and with my own admiration and draw to the sport. The study shows that the risk of developing chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a form of brain damage caused by repeated jolts to the head, is far more prevalent than originally imagined.

CTE is associated with the accumulation of thousands of small, sub-concussive hits, not necessarily recognizable concussions. These hits start as early as pee-wee football and accumulate as players progress through high school and college ball. By the time the small group of elite players reach the NFL, many if not most of them have likely already experienced some significant, long-term damage. The brutal physicality of football, the hundreds of violent hits and tackles, the rattling of the brain that occurs on most plays, the incredible speed and size and strength of the players who bring such talent and zeal and beauty to the sport, all contribute to what we are now learning about the medical data.

The study examined 338 brains donated by players’ families between 2008 and 2021 (out of a total of 1,721 players who died), and found that 93% were diagnosed with CTE. To account for selection bias, as most families who donated their loved ones’ brains likely suspected something was wrong, researchers narrowed the study to the 878 players who died between 2016 and 2021. That sample included 235 donated brains, of which 91.5% were diagnosed with CTE. After looking at demographic data and other information from death certificates of all NFL players who died in that time frame, they found that not less than 25% of the players had CTE. Because only a small percentage of the dead players’ brains were autopsied, and because an autopsy is the only way to detect CTE, the 25% figure is the absolute floor, or the lowest possible minimum of CTE prevalence, and assumes that every player whose brain was not autopsied was perfectly healthy, which is extremely unlikely. Medical experts believe the actual rate of CTE could be as high as 97.7%, and is most likely somewhere between the high and low figures.

The symptoms of the disease are devastating. They include memory loss, confusion, uncharacteristic mood swings, increases in erratic and impulsive behavior. It has been found in very young men, including several high-profile former NFL players who committed suicide, suffered debilitating cases of cognitive impairment, and in a few cases committed violent crimes.

Some may argue this is what the men signed up for when they chose to play such a physically violent game that brought them a modicum of fame and money. But how many of the risks were told to the high school teens that were later so aggressively recruited to play at Division I colleges and universities?

For those of us who love to watch football, or who spend money on football tickets and merchandise, how do we come to terms with the knowledge that the high-speed hits, blocks, and tackles we love to watch causes the athletes’ brains to bounce against their skull, each time potentially inflicting little injuries? Or that, when these little injuries are repeated over and over again, the long-term consequences are dire and devastating?

Even by turning on the remote to watch the game are we not supporting what is a multi-billion-dollar industry that glorifies and promotes a game in which the players repeatedly do immense damage to their brains? Can we really say that the 20-year-old man who chooses to play professionally knows precisely the risks he is taking? What about the 13- and 14-year-old boys who are drawn to the glory of Friday night lights?

In the fall of 1973, as a 14-year-old about to start my freshman year in high school, and decades before we knew anything about CTE, I too was drawn to high school football. My mother, herself a high school athlete, was less enthusiastic about the idea. She worried that football was a dangerous sport that could result in serious injury. A few weeks before football practice started, mom quietly purchased a then bestselling paperback book called Meat on the Hoof: The Hidden World of Texas Football by Gary Shaw (St. Martin’s Press, 1972). Shaw played football for the University of Texas at Austin in the 1960s, and his book exposed the brutal realities of the UT football program under Coach Darrell Royal.

Mom handed me a copy of the book one afternoon and said, “You really need to read this.” I recall feeling a bit exasperated at the time, but became genuinely intrigued by the book as I absorbed its contents over the next several days. Shaw’s memoir described the poor medical care, punishing practices, and extreme psychological pressure the players endured. Players were put through practice drills intentionally designed to weed them out, through injury, severe hazing, and humiliation. Players who became injured, including Shaw, were treated as expendable inventory. Many lost their scholarships. The promises made by Coach Royal during recruiting sessions—that they would be looked after, receive a first-rate education, and be treated like family—suddenly vanished. Instead, as the title of the book implied, the athletes were treated like livestock ("meat on the hoof"), used, exploited, and then discarded when no longer useful.

But I was fourteen years old. From my vantage point, high school football was glorious, with marching bands and cheerleaders, pep rallies and stands filled with people on gameday. Football players were looked up to and treated like rock stars. Besides, I failed to see the connection between a football program at a big-time Texas university and the smalltime freshmen program at Hightstown High School.

So, I endured the twice-a-day practice sessions held during the peak summer heat, and learned to hit and tackle and block. The coaches tried their best to turn me into someone I was not, a physically aggressive, angry and ruthless person willing to inflict punishment on others. Throughout the season, the coaches yelled at, intimidated, and humiliated us, believing it motivated us to play harder, hit harder, tackle harder. Although as a tight end and occasional wide receiver, I led our underperforming team in scoring, I learned quickly that football was not for me. I played in fear of getting injured (not a good way to play football), hated playing defense, and held the coaches in disdain. When the start of my sophomore year came around, I opted out.

Yet I understand why so many young men are attracted to football. It is a beautiful game to watch and a fun and exciting sport to play. The adulation and adornment dished out to football players in many communities and schools is hard to ignore. And football offers an attractive avenue for young men in search of meaning and purpose in their lives. Football teaches discipline and a strong work ethic, teamwork and collaboration, leadership skills, and the perseverance and resilience needed to overcome challenges and handle setbacks. But too many young men play the game in the hopes of achieving college scholarships and NFL stardom and the big money attached to it. For some talented high school players, the fame, riches, and glory are there for the taking, or so it seems. For most, it turns out to be a mirage.

Is there any truth to the notion that football is so popular in the United States because it is such a violently physical sport full of risk? Or are we simply oblivious, or unthinking, in our support of what is admittedly an exciting, beautiful game? If it turns out that the rate of CTE among professional football players is as high as 97% (or even 40% or 50%) what are the ethical implications of school boards, college presidents, local media outlets, NFL owners, advertisers and sponsors, and the sports gambling industry supporting and promoting an industry that causes such harm to those who play it? And what about all of us who support the game by watching and rooting for young men as they entertain us in a way that will eventually cause many of them to suffer severe brain damage and disproportionately high cases of early dementia, ALS, Parkinson's disease, and worse?

I am genuinely conflicted by all of this because I continue to enjoy football for the exciting, dynamic, and thrilling sport that it is. I love that football brings people from all walks of life together. And I understand the socioeconomic and cultural factors that play a role in the high percentage of African American athletes who play and dominate football at its most competitive levels. The lure of football as an opportunity to open doors to a better life, to riches and fame, is compelling and difficult to resist, especially if you are poor and don’t perceive a bright future outside of football. But it is sad. Only a select few are good enough to make it, and even then, based on the medical data, it does not seem worth it.

It is not for me to tell anyone whether or not they should play football, or root for football, or support the game financially. But I hope that any young person considering playing the game today will take a long, hard look at the evidence and ask themselves, is the glory of Friday night lights really worth it?