The seduction of elitism

C. S. Lewis’ That Hideous Strength is many things. It is dystopian fiction in the same league as 1984 and Brave New World (although that’s questionable since it has a happy ending). It’s also a peek at the quite literally invisible spiritual forces working in the modern world. But, in a most relevant sense, it’s an analysis of seduction. This may be particularly true for many disillusioned, salt-of-the-earth evangelicals in middle America who wonder why their own elites don’t seem to like them anymore.

Don’t misunderstand: When I say “elites,” I’m not speaking pejoratively. I’m told Jacques Ellul once said, “Elites you will have with you always.” They’re not a curse, just a fact.

To be specific, the elites I’m referring to are our own. I’m not thinking of people at the controls of mechanical monsters like The New York Times or Harvard, and certainly not the ghouls who haunt the decaying edifice of “mainline” Protestantism. (Those denominations are on life support, fed by endowments and real estate that will eventually be run down to nothing.)

No, what I mean is people who still refer to themselves as evangelicals: the ones who run the big-box megachurch entertainment complexes outside of town, our publishing houses, and our ostensibly Christian colleges—but especially the public intellectuals who occasionally appear in the pages of The Washington Post, or The Atlantic.

If you’re wondering what they have to do with That Hideous Strength, it isn’t a difficult connection to make. Lewis’ story weaves two storylines by following a married couple. Both are aspiring academics: Jane Studdock, who is writing a doctoral thesis on John Donne, and Mark Studdock, a youthful fellow of Bracton College, who, unfortunately, happens to be a sociologist. Each is drawn into an inner ring, one good, and the other evil. The evil one is a ring within a ring, and it is located in the N.I.C.E. “the National Institute of Co-Ordinated Experiments,” which is even more sinister than it sounds.

Initially, the N.I.C.E. seems interested in Mark because of his ability to write clear, jargon-free prose (rare among academics). Since he’s already compromised his integrity by putting this gift into the service of an unprincipled utilitarian sociology, he’s perfect for the N.I.C.E., whose aims include turning the population of England into truly efficient animals.

Today, we’d call Mark Studdock “psyops” for “psychological operations,” or in everyday parlance, a “propagandist” or even an “advertiser.” For propaganda to work, though, it must have a classical or medieval way with words going for it. The bloodless calculus of social engineers only appeals to button pushers and totalitarians—but I repeat myself.

The inner ring of the N.I.C.E. does excel in one art, though—that of seduction. How Mark is drawn in is fascinating in the same way that watching a frog decay can be fascinating. First, he is given the impression that the N.I.C.E. is not only doing work of supreme importance to humanity; it is “in the know,” and it is powerful—very, very powerful. Then his treatment begins: Mark is flattered, then made to feel insecure, and even threatened with excommunication from an organization to which he’s not even sure he belongs. Then he is flattered once more, and by this time, he’s a quivering bowl of pudding, incapable of resistance and willing to do as he is told to belong.

I can’t help wondering if some among our evangelical elite haven’t been through a similar treatment.

They seem to identify with an inner ring, the one that sits at the top of our society. And they seem to be acutely embarrassed by the unwashed they’ve left behind. But it is evident that their membership in that inner ring is based on the tacit promise (perhaps even as explicit as a threat) that they will keep the rest of us in line—you know, encouraging us to be truly efficient animals who do as we are told.

I’ll let you fill in the names—not because I can’t suggest some, but because I lack the space and lawyerly skills necessary to make a complete case in a short column. But I’m told there are books coming that will do that. Stay tuned.