In the world of The Free Press, Nellie Bowles is the snarky, raging wit who tears into news events and trends in her weekly TGIF column.
The former New York Times news-feature star is also the spouse of journalist Bari Weiss (the lesbian moms have two children) and they are the co-founders of The Free Press, a Substack startup so successful that it inspired a corporate takeover of CBS News. Meanwhile, check out the Bowles bestseller, “Morning After the Revolution: Dispatches from the Wrong Side of History,” which dissects the world of liberal journalism and culture that she has long called home.
Needless to say, these old-school, pro-First Amendment liberals are not the kind of public intellectuals that cultural and religious conservatives have, in the past, valued for their insights into public life. However, they have created a multi-media space in which all kinds of voices — including strong, vocal Christians (Paul Kingsnorth, leaps to mind) — have been able to reach millions of new readers and listeners.
Abigail Shrier (author, attorney, journalist) is a perfect example of another thinker whose writing, at The Free Press and elsewhere, has rattled establishment cages. Many know her from two recent bestsellers, “Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters” and “Bad Therapy: Why the Kids Aren’t Growing Up.”
In terms of faith, Weiss, Bowles and Shrier are all Jewish and, from all appearances, linked to progressive congregations of some kind.
This brings me to “Tough Love with Abigail Shrier,” an advice column launched at The Free Press earlier this month. I am going to send this post to the whole Rational Sheep list, because I think this subject is rather important. I hope that the “paid option” readers who make this all possible will understand!
The first “Tough Love” column responds to a letter from Bowles in which she lowers the shields of her sarcastic personna and speaks from the heart about the terrifying trends that she sees in the world around her. Here is her cry for help:
Dear Abigail,
I’m finding myself overwhelmed with anxiety about the news — and it’s getting in the way of making decisions. I worry about where things are going. I worry about the various political rages. About the extremes that threaten my nice, peaceful life. Calm, sober people I know are talking about coming up with backup plans. I worry about AI causing widespread psychosis, and I worry about masses of unemployed white-collar workers starting a violent revolution (I’m totally serious). And I’m feeling anxious about making any long-term plans because of it.
My instinct is to live as lightly as possible so I can be nimble. If I’m honest, this has always been a problem of mine to some extent. Like, when we moved to New York, I didn’t want to have to buy furniture and commit to a new place, so we signed onto a two-year furnished sublet. This all has downstream effects: We have a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old. I know stability is essential for them. And if I’m really, really honest, I grew up in a family with some instability, so I worry that I’m re-creating that by refusing to commit to a long-term home.
But I genuinely, in my bones, think chaos is coming. What do I do? How do I build a stable life when I’m convinced we need to be ready to run? — Love, Your Friend in Need, Nellie
There is a crucial piece of Shrier’s response that, in my humble opinion, can be viewed as a powerful “signal” from a powerful mass-media institution in modern America (click here for information about my “signal” concept).
I will get to that part of the Shrier piece momentarily. But first, please let me provide some context for that crucial passage.
Shrier opens her response to Bowles with a tough-love anecdote from a driver’s education class back in high school. Her teacher — Paul — was known for blunt advice that didn’t avoid hard choices at the wheel, such as this: “He told us that if a dog ran in front of your car, you needed to run it over. Better to kill a dog than swerve onto the sidewalk and kill a kid, he said.”
Another piece of sobering advice: Never hit the brakes when a car is sliding on ice. Instead, “steer gently into the skid” and focus your eyes on where you want the car to end up.
Your letter, dear Nellie, made me think of … sliding on ice in a darkening landscape. We expect to feel purchase under our tires, but we can’t manage to get traction, can’t stop the rising panic at the numberless things beyond our control.
You mention the AI comet that seems to be hurtling toward us and the social upheaval it may produce. It’s becoming harder even to contemplate what the future will look like. Record numbers of young people say they do not intend to have children. Record numbers of high school girls are no longer interested in ever getting married at all. Perhaps like you, Nellie, they want to stay “nimble.” Too much attachment makes them feel limited and uneasy. …
How can we invest in a society that seems to be in precipitous decline? That’s what I think you’re asking. Is it foolish to commit to a culture that seems to be falling apart? Doesn’t it make more sense to hover near the door than to take off your coat, grab a drink, and enjoy the party?
It doesn’t help that so many modern Americans struggle with commitments — period. Truth be told, Shrier said, calling a live-in partner “my girlfriend” does not equal taking vows and embracing the reality stated in the words “my wife.” Obviously, children are the ultimate test, with their built-in ability to sense shallow, shaky, teetering commitments.
Recently, a cousin asked Shrier if she regretted leaving Washington, D.C., since focusing on marriage and starting a family elsewhere meant passing up a chance to apply for a clerk slot at the U.S. Supreme Court. She said, “No.”
He took this all in for a beat. Then, he said: “And do you regret that decision?”
I nearly laughed out loud. But he wasn’t kidding. He genuinely wanted to know whether I hadn’t considered the failure to pursue another professional opportunity a great loss. He had surveyed my life and read it as a series of purchases you couldn’t return: the husband, the house, the three kids, the community.
He doesn’t know — and how could he? — that keeping yourself “nimble” so that you can always be “ready to run” is no recipe for a life well-lived. … You don’t want to die with your options open.
This leads me to the surprisingly simple paragraph that caught my attention.
Overinvest, never underinvest, in people around you and in those you love. Particularly in a world with poor visibility, they are the closest thing any of us has to security. Give the community you inhabit a real shot and make a go of ensuring it succeeds.
Obviously, the phrase “the community you inhabit” may mean different things to different people. It can be a business or a workplace. It can be a town, city or region.
But when I read that, I immediately thought about the many conversations I have had during the past three decades with young men and young parents who are considering converting to Eastern Orthodox Christianity.
Yes, note the irony in what I am saying: The vast majority are trying to decide whether to LEAVE the faith tradition (even if that is a history of lukewarm faith, agnosticism or atheism) that has previously defined their life and their upbringing. They want to know what they should do before making the decision to embrace Orthodoxy.
Most of the time, they want people like me (folks who converted several decades ago) to tell them what books they should read, what websites to follow, what podcasts to pour into their smartphones, what prayer disciplines they need to adopt, even what vegan cookbooks they can use during fasting seasons.
Please hear me: I am Orthodox, so I am talking about Orthodox life. But I know Catholics, Lutherans, Anglicans and others who are having similar experiences during these confusing times.
People want to know specific buttons they can push to make A BIG CHANGE during an age in which they feel anxiety, loneliness, brokenness and doubt all around them.
What should they do?
I tell them that Orthodoxy is not about punching a few quick buttons. Ideally, it is about joining a body of people who are taking a journey together through the ancient Christian calendar of prayers, services, confessions, fasts and feasts. We are not going alone. This is not a solo flight.
Yes, there are decisions that people make as individuals. But, more than that, it is a decision to make a commitment to join a COMMUNITY of faith that will march through days, weeks, months and years together. Even when we die we believe that we are preparing to be united with the Body of Christ.
Do we have the time to do that? Yes, we live in an anxious, troubled age. But, in my experience, the most brutal reality is that we live in a stunning busy age, even as the algorithms of screen culture chase us from device to device.
The choices that define modern life also push us further from one another in terms of where we live and the distances we travel when searching for ways to spend time with other people. We need community, but do we have time for community? Do we have “spare time” to invest in worship, prayer and study outside of a slot on Sunday morning? Yes, we can find time if we choose to do so.
So, what if we deliberately strive to build communities of faith to inhabit? What if we make decisions to live closer to them, to build the rhythms of these sacred communities into our calendars?
Reading Shrier’s response to Bowles reminded me of specific book by my friend Rod Dreher. I am talking about his frequently (even deliberately) misunderstood 2018 bestseller “The Benedict Option: A Strategy for Christians in a Post-Christian Nation.”
Many people seem to think that Dreher wants Christians to run away from civilization and hide somewhere in the hills, maybe even the lovely Southern Highlands in which my wife and I have chosen to settle. However, we moved back to Northeast Tennessee in order to be near some close friends, while returning to a congregation that is linked (it’s complicated) to our decision to become Orthodox in the 1990s.
Was this a “Benedict Option” decision? I would say, “Yes.” And it has potential to grow into something very special.
The other day, Dreher discussed his recent return visit to “The Moorings,” a community led by James and Helen Orr, just north of Cambridge, on the River Cam in England. Is it a retreat from the world? No way. But it is a deliberate community. I will let Dreher describe it:
The Moorings is a rambling property that consists of the main house, with a number of cottages in the gardens. James and Helen have built it as a sort of by-the-pants-seat Christian community for Cambridge graduate students who are Christian, and who want to live in a loose community. …
What’s so key, it seems to me, is that on a very small budget, James and Helen have turned The Moorings into a fantastic place of spiritual and intellectual formation. People pass through here for parties, or for a weekend, or even for semesters in graduate school — and it changes them. They meet others here who share their views. Every time I’ve been here, I’ve observed these parties they have, where conservative and Christian intellectuals, journalists, clerics and others meet to have fellowship, trade ideas, and make contacts. This is because of the hospitality of the Orrs. They make things happen.
Dreher is not an easy person to edit. But here some additional commentary about this vision:
Helen tells me that she and James are hoping to make The Moorings into something more formal — something that struck me as exactly the kind of thing I envisioned when I wrote The Benedict Option. As you readers well know, I do not call for total withdrawal from the world, but rather for the forming of various kinds of Christian communities within which we can deepen our faith, via study, spiritual discipline, and fellowship, so that when we go out into the world, we can think and act as authentic small-o orthodox Christians. …
Helen showed me the sketch of a plan she and James came up with for formalizing the organization of The Moorings as a center of conservative (and conservative Christian) formation and networking — in part depending on the intellectual and cultural resources of Cambridge University. It’s amazing! Good Lord, I thought, yes, this needs to happen! This is a form of the Benedict Option! And it needs to happen in as many places as it can!
What will it take to create that community? Yes, it will take money. But more than anything else, it will require people to make decisions that allow them to invest time and energetic commitment into sharing their lives with others.
I am not suggesting that everyone needs to pack up and move to some new community that will, you know. change their lives. But there is a chance that we can make decisions to build space in our lives for the communities that God has given us and, even, to strengthen those communities in ways that make room for others.
The bottom line: Join a community that is in procession toward a future that is larger than your packed daytimer or smartphone calendar. Make the hard choices. Commit. Keep your eyes focused on where we want to end up, even when driving on icy roads.
We moved from Florida to the Front Range of Colorado to be closer to family, but we discovered a treasure in a field when we discovered St. Spyridon Orthodox Church, in Loveland. I have told our priest that this is our Benedict Option in such dark times, and can't imagine being in a better place. I would think such a church would be the likeliest way for most to practice the BenOp, as most of us won't become monastics, or join a separate community.
Thank you for posting this. That column has haunted me since it came out. The world we live in allows us to be part of so many different groups without ever fully investing in any of them. We end up “stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.” Lord have mercy.