The Black Sheep
People are different! There are 8 billion people in the world today, and as many as 100 BILLION that have ever existed, and no two people are identical. But one cool thing about humanity is that in spite of all of our differences, we do share certain similarities. We share certain needs.
Needs are not suggestions. Needs are not recommendations. Needs are things that we require. Scientists have called these needs human motives, because they’re so central to understanding and explaining human behavior. These human motives are so strong that when they aren’t met, our health starts to atrophy. Our health literally starts to decline, because we have important and basic human needs that aren’t being met.
There are a number of human motives, but as a social scientist, I tend to take a lot more interest in the social and psychological ones. I’ll focus on two here.
In the late 90’s, social psychologists started to give more attention to a framework for human behavior known as Optimal Distinctiveness Theory (ODT). This work was largely pioneered by Marilynn Brewer, who was trying to make sense of a paradox. Her theory on optimal distinctiveness focuses on 2 human motives, Affiliation and Distinctiveness… the issue is, those human motives don’t go super well together.
Affiliation is exactly what it sounds like. We have a fundamental human need to establish human relationships and connect with others, so that we feel a sense of community and feel like we belong. When we don’t have that opportunity to affiliate, or when we feel like we don’t belong, or when our social relationships suffer, our health starts to decline, and there’s evidence to support that. As I’ve stated elsewhere, contrary to the popular lone wolf or lone ranger metaphor, humans need social interaction to survive. We need to affiliate. We need relationships. We need to feel accepted and we need to feel like we belong.
But we also have this other human motive, distinctiveness, wherein throughout our lives, we strive to be distinct from other people. I mean think about it, right… nobody goes through life saying, “I want to be identical in every way to the other 8 billion people on the face of the planet.” That would be weird, right? That would probably be a personality disorder. Instead, we want to have some level of uniqueness. Fortunately, this isn’t an insurmountable task. Who we are is a complex array of all the things that our reflected through our very existence: our ideas, our attitudes, our personality, our hobbies, our taste in music, our career aspirations, our religion, our experiences, our EVERYTHING. So, we already ARE different… distinctiveness is merely about expressing that so it’s explicit, easily observable, and known to others. And much like affiliation, people have to satisfy their need for distinctiveness. We need to be able to express who we are. When we don’t, our health begins to atrophy… and again, there’s research evidence that overwhelmingly supports this. We need to feel like we’re being true to ourselves.
ODT has proven most useful as a theory to understand behavior within groups, as this is a setting where the motives for affiliation and distinctiveness may be particularly in conflict. An example may help.
Let’s say you work at an accounting firm with other finance and accounting professionals. Obviously, this is a professional setting, so you try and do your best to fit in so you won’t be excluded. But sometimes you do and say things just to fit in and you end up feeling like you’re not actually being true to yourself. When you are true to yourself though, and you say and do things that reflect that, you notice you get weird looks sometimes.
Doesn’t sound fun, right? But this kind of thing is all too common. Not surprisingly, this theory can be used to understand behavior in all kinds of groups.
A group of friends.
A nuclear or extended family.
A work team.
Classmates at a school, college, or university.
Sports teams.
Literally, any kind of group you want; across the board, we face these competing needs of affiliating or assimilating so we feel like we belong, and being our true and authentic selves, so we feel unique.
As you would imagine, in most situations in groups, we strike a balance between these two needs: we decide how much we’ll assimilate, while also trying to be true to who we are. We do desire to be seen as a member of the group, but we also want to be our authentic selves. That is natural, healthy, and completely to be expected.
But here’s where things get interesting.
Because we know affiliation and distinctiveness are fundamental human motives, we can use this to better understand how to build inclusive spaces so people get their needs met. We know that people desire to feel like they belong and connect with others. We also know that people desire to be authentic, distinct, and true to themselves. So inclusive spaces, therefore, are places where people feel like they can connect and belong to others, without sacrificing who they are as a person for the sake of being accepted.
That’s what we learn from Optimal Distinctiveness Theory. Isn’t science super cool?
I’ve been thinking about this a lot in the context of Christianity, because I don’t really think we do this super well. And if you follow my work, you probably notice that I make this point again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again… but I’ll make that point yet again here today and use ODT as a way of illustrating that a bit… and we can do that, because churches represent communities of people, so ODT is a useful framework to make sense of some patterns of human behavior.
When you become a part of a group, any group, there’s an expectation to conform to norms. That’s true for churches, just like it’s true for fraternities and sororities, just like it’s true for tech companies in Silicon Valley. Groups have norms and you’re encouraged to follow them. In the case of a religion though, these norms are frequently reflected in the form of religious views, and religious adherents are expected to have attitudes and behaviors that reflect that. That’s a fair expectation.
“We expect you to show compassion for the poor and needy.”
“We expect you to be abstinent until marriage… that means people who are not married shouldn’t be sexually active.”
“We expect you to honor your parents.”
“We expect you to forgive other people, because we know that God forgave you.”
You get the idea. This isn’t specific to Christianity; every religious group has norms, reflected in religious beliefs, that members are expected to follow. I mean, that’s one of the things that makes a religion a religion vs. just a book club.
But I’m a bit concerned, and have been for some time, to be completely honest. I think I’m concerned because, although we generally have good intentions, some of these expectations are starting to backfire, in really spectacular ways.
One implication of that, I think, is that even though we like to tell people that Christianity is for all people, realistically, we have congregations that are intended for a subset of people that are willing to follow specific norms. And sure, other people can attend, but our churches are intended for a subset of people that are willing to conform to specific norms.
I’ll illustrate with an example that I’ve used previously, but you could do a similar exercise for any identity that you think is fitting.
I am a Black, Christian Scientist.
It’s a very complex identity for me to understand, and I don’t think I ever really will completely wrap my head around it… I think it’ll be a life long journey, but I think so much of who I am is reflected in that: I am a BLACK, CHRISTIAN SCIENTIST.
It’s interesting though because in my experience, American Christianity doesn’t really want to engage with my Blackness. And American Christianity doesn’t seem to care to engage with me as a scientist, either. What that means practically, in my case, is I feel pressure to leave those identities, important identities, at the door when I come to church… because I feel like they won’t be accepted. What’s really interesting about that is, I know what needs to be done in order to be accepted. All I have to do is suppress my Black identity and/or suppress my scientist identity. If I do those things, assimilation and belonging become really easy. Then the only parts of me that are left are the parts of me that are really easy for the church to accept… the parts of me that are really easy for the church to engage with.
The Blackness, and the Science, though… they’re kind of iffy about that.
But here’s my thesis: you can’t have an inclusive congregation if you’re not willing to accept your members in their totality. In the case of American Christianity, I fear there’s a lot more emphasis on conforming, and assimilating, than being the men and women that God called for us to be, in full.
I’ll illustrate using my example, starting with the Blackness. But I’ve made these points a number of times previously, so I’ll only mention them in passing before hitting on the science piece.
I think the last 18 months or so in the United States are a perfect example of what’s been said in various ways for a long, long time.
There are two Americas.
There’s the America where you fear for your life if you have a run in with law enforcement, and there’s the America where police brutality doesn’t even exist.
There’s the America where people tell you your hair is unprofessional because of how it NATURALLY grows out of your scalp, and there’s the America where, “I don’t see race”.
There’s the America where storming the United States capitol is an act of insurrection and there’s the America where storming the United States capitol is an act of patriotism.
There’s the America where Black History Month is an opportunity for you to learn things that you may not otherwise learn the other 11 months of the year (because American history is super White-washed), and there’s the America where Black History month is Black people trying to make White people feel bad about slavery.
There’s the America where the country’s brightest days are in the future, and there’s the America where the country’s brightest days are in its past.
There’s the America where diversity is a signature staple that makes this country unique and special, and there’s the America where diversity is just an inconvenient burden expected of White people because of Black people.
You get the picture. We can do this all day. Seriously.
What we don’t talk about enough though is, because America is a tale of two cities, Christianity in America is a tale of two churches.
I want to be clear: I take ZERO delight in saying that. But I don’t think it’s false. And I don’t say that to spur division in any way, shape, or form, I say that to illustrate a point: Black Christians and White Christians in America live in two different worlds, even if we attend the same congregations. To say anything otherwise, to me, would fall far short of the reality of race relations in this country. And I think frequently, because we live in two different worlds, we can perceive the same church very, very differently. So, as you share your platitudes about how diverse, progressive, and inclusive the congregation is, there’s a chance I don’t necessarily share those views. If I’m honest, there’s lots of evidence that White Americans aren’t great at identifying prejudice and racism when they see it, so it’s not really surprising that we may differ in how we perceive the diversity climate of a congregation. And it’s interesting because the more I hear those diversity platitudes, the more I can feel weird for not sharing those sentiments… it’s almost like I can feel that there’s something wrong with ME because I don’t really feel the same way about the congregation that my White brothers and sisters in Christ do.
It’s a Black Sheep phenomenon (a play on words). I’m part of the flock (John 10:11-16; John 21:15), but I’m also Black, so yes, that influences my experience at church. As much as churches seem disinterested in engaging with Blackness, I don’t think you’ll have much success building inclusive churches if you have great difficulty accepting people in their entirety, vs. just the aspects of them you feel are most convenient to work with.
One of the really key features of Blackness is the looming possibility of threat. And it can emerge at any given moment. People in America are threatened simply by the existence of Black people. True story… they’ll LITERALLY call the police on us because we look “suspicious”… just for existing. It’s an interesting experience. So, Black people, like other minority groups, seek cues in our environment that signal that we’re in a safe space (these are call identity safety cues, or diversity cues, depending on the situation, and there’s lots of research on this). So, for example, gay people don’t just walk around telling the world that they’re gay, because something bad can happen to them. Somebody might beat them up. Or throw a brick through their car window. Or make a mean joke. And so on and so forth. In a similar way, when you’re Black, you don’t just walk around flaunting your Blackness… something bad could happen to you. One of the things you do is you look for cues in your environment that signal that you’re in a safe space and you’ll be accepted for who you are.
You don’t have to worry about being mistreated here.
It’s sad because when churches show an unwillingness to engage with Blackness, lots of Black people interpret that as, “You need to be someone else in order to exist here.” I mean, sure, they didn’t explicitly say that, but that’s what signals are for… you send a message without actually sending a message.
So, there you have it. I’m a Black sheep. Now, let’s talk about this science thing, because that’s part of my Black sheep experience, too.
I’m a Black, Christian scientist… and periodically, I can feel out of place in the church as a scientist as well. I think one of the big reasons why is sometimes we try and rationalize or explain things that we see in the Bible, but sometimes we use explanations that don’t really mesh well with science… at all.
I’ll give you an example, a common one I should add. But keep in mind, it’s just an example for illustrative purposes.
“Don’t have sex before marriage, because if you do, x, y, and z will happen.”
To me, it would be WAAAAY easier, and more straight forward, to say “Don’t have sex before marriage, because the Bible says that isn’t pleasing to God.”
It could really be that simple. That’s not a scientific argument, and it also doesn’t need to be, because you’re making a statement about a religious text and what it says about a particular topic. It’s very straight forward.
Instead, we make these arguments about sex that sound really good, but sometimes, there’s a lot of scientific research that says the exact opposite.
And I love illustrating this point with topics like sex, or sexuality, or sexual orientation, or gender, or race, or discrimination, because these are all topics where the church has opinions and has been quite vocal about them… these are also all topics where we have DECADES of scientific research, by brilliant minds around the world… and sometimes, they don’t really support the point that the church is trying to make.
Just keep it really simple and stick to the Bible. Seriously.
Here’s why I say that.
I’m a scientist. And I read a lot. And study a lot. And work really hard to be in this profession. What we do is investigate research questions that enrich our understanding of the world, and we work together as experts to do that. As we learn exciting new things, we share what we know with the world. That’s why most research happens at universities. Universities are places of learning and discovery, so as scientists learn new things, they publish a research paper, or they write a book, or update their course material (or design a new course entirely), and so on and so forth.
It’s soooooooo much easier to say, “Live this lifestyle because the Bible says it’s pleasing to God.” So, in the context of our sex example, it would be, “Wait until marriage, because the Bible says that’s pleasing to God.” But a lot of times, we want our ideas and opinions to carry more weight. We want to be more influential. So, we come up with some logic concerning all the good things that come from waiting or the bad things that come from not waiting… but that’s a slippery slope. Because now you’re talking about science. And if you’re saying things that aren’t consistent with what people who are experts in their field of study think, or even scientific claims that we know are just flat out wrong, that’s called misinformation. And we need to be really, REALLY careful with that.
And if I’m honest, in those moments, it can seem like you’re more interested in influencing and controlling behavior than you are in just being honest with people.
Now, I want to be clear. There are lots of people who don’t feel religion and science go together, but I’m not necessarily one of those people. Like I said, I’m a Christian scientist. So, I believe that Christianity and science can coexist, and I even think there are lots of times where they complement each other in cool ways (although that isn’t always the case). But if I’m honest, I think this is one of the reasons why a lot of scientists don’t really look favorably on Christianity… people devote their careers to developing their expertise in a field, and sharing things that they feel help people to enrich their daily lives… so, it can seem undermining, and unflattering, when we share things at church that are just flat out misleading, if not outright incorrect.
So, yes, as a scientist, I can wrestle with that. Church is a relatively controlled environment… and it can seem there’s more interest in influencing or controlling behavior than there is in telling people the truth about sex, or sexuality, or race, or race relations, or history, or gender, or whatever. And to me, at times, it can very much come off as disingenuous.
I want to be clear. That’s something that every Christian should care about. Because what inevitably happens is 10, 15, 20 years down the road, people (Christian and otherwise) discover that they learned a lot of things at church that weren’t entirely true… or the church withheld information from them because they didn’t really want to engage with that information… and people get REALLY upset about that, because they feel like they’ve been misled or lied to… and sometimes it really messes with their faith. So, yeah, I think this is something that every Christian needs to care about. And when you have scientists that are in your congregations, you should probably be trying to leverage that expertise rather than avoiding engaging with it because you find it inconvenient.
As a Black Christian Scientist, I know that I have beliefs that are really different than a lot of people I go to church with.
Yes, a Black sheep.
But I think over the last year or so, I’ve really learned to lean into that. I think the big reason why is, I’m of the school of thought that church is a place where lots of people wrestle with pressure to conform and be something that they’re not.
People are saying and doing things that they don’t even believe in, simply because they don’t want to be judged for not doing them. To me, that’s no way to live your faith. And we won’t build inclusive churches by only accepting the aspects of people that are easiest for the church to engage with. You have to accept the whole person. That doesn’t necessarily mean you compromise on your religious beliefs, but you have to create an environment where people can be who they think God called for them to be. The whole person. All of them. That’s great for them. And it’s great for the church. Everybody wins.
I think because of that, I’ve been really interested in being myself but also doing so in a very visible and vocal way. It works a little something like this. Groups vary concerning how strong the norms are. When norms are really strict, that means norms are “tight”. When norms are relaxed, that means norms are “loose”. When norms are tight, people conform and assimilate way more, because being yourself is risky… it could result in rejection (think of an interview). When norms are loose, people don’t feel as much pressure to conform or assimilate, because being yourself isn’t as risky… you don’t have to worry as much about rejection (think of a game night with your friends).
Every moment at church, or as a Christian, when I’m not being myself, I’m contributing to really tight norms. Literally. When I choose not to be myself as a Christian, I make a bad situation worse, because I’m creating more pressure to conform by choosing not to be myself. The norms for behavior become really tight. And when norms are tight, that means other people conform, too, because they don’t see anyone deviating from the norm. It’s riskier to be yourself and riskier to be different, so the cycle perpetuates. The other thing that happens is people outside the church see that the norms are really tight, and they may feel they won’t be accepted, they can’t be themselves, etc. So, not only does this effect the innerworkings of the church, but it also probably effects people’s interest in becoming a part of it, too.
On the other hand, when I choose not to assimilate, instead opting to be my authentic self, I’m being the change that I want to see. I’m helping the church learn to accept the whole person. In my case, that means being more inclusive of both Blackness and science, which I think helps the church to be SOOOOOO much better. Is it uncomfortable for me on some level? Sure. Can it be scary? Yeah. Do I make mistakes? Absolutely. But I believe that God called for me to be a Christian, while still being true to the depth and breadth of the person He created me to be.
How you feel about that is up to you.
Talk to me if you’ve ever felt like a Black sheep at church…
Nnamdi