What Are We to Make of Jordan Peterson?

On the appeal and inspiration of conservatism's intellectual standard-bearer

©Gage Skidmore https://www.flickr.com/photos/gageskidmore/41117584600

(An eight-minute read.)

I was listening to a podcast interview last week with Glen Scrivener, who is a minister and evangelist in the Church of England, and he shared an interesting story about a young man who recently attended his church in southeast England.

The young man, who’s a physician, randomly showed up for the first time and explained that he’d been raised an atheist but was now interested in exploring Christianity.

What had inspired this newfound interest?

Jordan Peterson.

To Scrivener’s surprise, another young man standing next to him immediately shared a similar story.

And Scrivener has encountered this over and over again.

It’s quite the phenomenon.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock, you’ve probably heard of Jordan Peterson—the Canadian psychologist and former Harvard professor who, for the past decade, has been a leading intellectual force behind a reasoned challenge to progressive ideology and political thought.

He first came to more notable prominence in 2016 when he took aim at Canadian legislation that extended protections to the transgender community, arguing that the legislation undermined free speech and capitulated to modern identity politics too much.

Since then, Peterson has been arguably the most famous, followed, and celebrated conservative intellectual in the world, bolstered all the more by his 2018 best-selling book, 12 Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos, which has sold more than 10 million copies and been translated into 45 different languages.

Over the last few years, Peterson’s star has risen even more among conservatives as he’s very openly flirted with Christianity and tried his hand at tackling questions about God and the Bible, reflected in his lecture series and book, entitled We Who Wrestle With God.

And it’s this flirtation with Christianity that has partly influenced the turn to God among an angsty generation of young men who are seemingly searching for meaning, purpose, and structure—despite the fact that, at least publicly, Peterson still hasn’t affirmed a belief in or commitment to Christ.

So what are we to make of all this?

I won’t at all claim to be an expert on Peterson, nor someone who’s spent years analyzing his philosophical outlook or the phenomenon he’s spawned.

However, I did read his 12 Rules book about five years ago and I’ve listened to parts of various lectures and interviews he’s done. I’ve also spent a bit of time discussing him with other thoughtful people, reflecting on what it is that’s made him such a sensation.[*]

I thus want to briefly share a few developing—perhaps half-baked—thoughts on the Jordan Peterson phenomenon, as well as on Peterson himself.

Why the Peterson appeal?

It’s perhaps a surprising development that a Harvard-trained academic, who often writes in esoteric and verbose prose, has become such a cult hero among “average Joes.”

Indeed, when I read his 12 Rules, I was surprised by how wordy Peterson was, and how much he droned on—saying in thirty pages what he probably could have explained in three paragraphs (for a pretty biting critique of Peterson’s 12 Rules, though one that largely reflects my own thoughts, read this).

Of course, I think that’s part of his appeal. I think conservatives find in him an intellectual standard-bearer, providing a thinking-man’s defense against the onslaught of progressive ideology.

At the same time, I think there are two further explanations as to why he’s appealed to such a wide variety of young men, many of whom may have been political and philosophical orphans before encountering him.

As others have pointed out, many young men have—rightfully, I’d submit—discovered that a purely immanent frame, which focuses solely on the pursuit of this-worldly pleasure, has failed to deliver the goods. A life of unfettered hedonism, with its constant pursuit of sexual, financial, and material gratification, has left many feeling empty and anxious.

They thus want something more. They want meaning and purpose. They want structure and self-mastery.

And Peterson has provided that (as has the recent proliferation of Stoicism, which has evolved into its own cottage industry).

Secondly, and somewhat related, Peterson has tapped into the male angst about masculinity.

No matter what one thinks about questions related to gender, it’s hard to deny that there’s a whole generation (or two) of young men who are pushing back against what they perceive to be an assault on masculinity. They feel disoriented when it comes to gender in general and feel attacked for simply being men specifically (and liking “manly” stuff).

Peterson has given them a voice, affirming their masculinity and giving them permission to unapologetically live out their vision of maleness.

In short, I think some of the main reasons Peterson has been so popular among young men is that he’s given them a refreshing alternative to the false promises of a purely pleasure-seeking, materialist worldview, providing meaning, purpose, and structure to many who are adrift at sea (and perhaps still living in their parents’ basements).

He’s also given them permission to be “men,” appealing to their most basic instincts about living out and expressing their maleness in the world.

That he provides an intellectual face to their conservative quest is, of course, another huge bonus.

So . . . is this all a good thing?

First, let me say a few things about Jordan Peterson that I appreciate, and then offer a few words of critique and concern.

Though some may disagree, I find Peterson to be respectful, thoughtful, sincere, and humble. I think he’s genuinely wrestling with the issues, and though he has some very strong views about gender and politics, I don’t find that he generally presents those views in a demeaning or derogatory way.

Again, others may disagree with me on this.

I think he’s probably also accurately put his finger on some of the pitfalls and empty promises of the modern progressive project. Though I may disagree with him on some of those convictions, and I might present our areas of agreement in more nuanced ways, I admire his willingness to express his convictions, no matter the consequences.

I also appreciate the fact that he seems to be seriously wrestling with Christianity—and I’m certainly a fan of how there seems to be a burgeoning interest in faith due to his influence. I’m all for anyone and everyone looking into the story and message of Jesus—no matter the source of their inspiration.

So if Jordan Peterson is getting them through the door, I celebrate that.

At the same time, I do have some concerns if Peterson is the main source of people’s political, social, and theological diet. While I know I have areas of agreement with him in all three of these spheres, I also have significant disagreements and find that he doesn’t add much wind to my sails when it comes to these matters.

To begin with, I’ve not heard anything from Peterson to give me in the impression that he understands the gospel. He approaches the Bible as a Jungian psychologist, searching for archetypes, rather than as someone who’s trying to step into God’s story of self-giving love.

Don’t misunderstand me: I’m a fan of Carl Jung and I’m a fan of psychology. And I’m a fan of people plumbing the Bible for all its psychological worth.

But in Peterson’s hands, the Bible seems to be another source of self-help rather than a communication from the triune God of love.

As Scrivener, in the podcast referenced above, quoted someone else as saying: Peterson’s anthropology is seemingly Augustinian while his soteriology is Pelagian—which is the worst of both worlds.

In other words, Peterson seems to affirm the Augustinian view that human beings are in a terrible state of corruption and selfishness, yet he doesn’t present a gospel-solution—transcendent and enabling grace and forgiveness—to our problem.

Instead, his answer to humanity’s problem is a Pelagian “12 Rules” program of self-improvement.

In that regard, Peterson, ironically, approaches the Bible and Christianity the same way his secular humanist opponents do: as a potential source of wisdom, insight, and self-improvement—but not as a communication from the triune God of love who is seeking to draw humanity into redemption and eternal love.

I could cite other examples, outside the theological realm, that concern me about Peterson—including the fact that I probably think “toxic masculinity” is more of a problem than he may think.

But those concerns largely pale in comparison to my theological misgivings—and, I’d submit, are downstream from them.

The bottom line for me: I appreciate Peterson’s ability to identify some significant inconsistencies and shortcomings in modern society. And I appreciate his genuine search for God and the ways he’s influenced people toward faith who are otherwise adrift at sea.

But as someone who doesn’t struggle for meaning and purpose in my life, and someone who doesn’t feel like my masculinity is being attacked (and believes that there’s plenty of societal masculinity that needs to be confronted), and someone who’s found inspiration from other theological sources, I just find limited value in his perspective—and probably wouldn’t necessarily encourage others to make him the main part of their intellectual or theological diet.

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[*] I especially want to express gratitude to my good friend, and church elder, Jonathan McGraw, who’s processed a lot of this with me—though I’d never want to imply that Jonathan would endorse my perspective on any or all of this.

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Shawn is a pastor in Portland, Maine, whose life, ministry, and writing focus on incarnational and embodied expressions of faith. The author of four books and a columnist for Adventist Review, he is also a DPhil (PhD) candidate at the University of Oxford, focusing on nineteenth-century American Christianity. You can follow him on Instagram, and listen to his podcast Mission Lab.