By now, everyone knows Taylor Swift is a government psyop,” wrote right-wing influencer Benny Johnson last week, summing up the buzzy recent conspiracy theory that the pop star’s relationship with Kansas City Chiefs player Travis Kelce is a secret plot orchestrated by Democratic mega-donor George Soros to assist President Joe Biden get re-elected.
The theory has been touted by figures including erstwhile presidential candidate Vivek Ramaswamy and Fox News host Jesse Watters, and it has occasioned a rash of commentary exploring the increasing weirdness of the Right. American conservatism, within the words ofNew York Times columnist Ross Douthat, has a self-sabotaging “inability to simply be normal.”
The emerging consensus, even amongst some conservatives like Douthat, is that the Right generally, and the Christian Right specifically, harbors a cultish band of losers and freaks. And a movement that appears at a pleased, traditional romance and starts hyperventilating about psyops shouldn’t be attractive. It pushes educated, high-status moderates with generally conservative dispositions into the arms of the Left.
There’s some truth here. In electoral terms, Republicans have indeed bled support among the many educated and affluent, and the idolization of politicians like former president Donald Trump is each morally mistaken and politically imprudent. The Right’s culture of victimhood and baseless conspiracy theorizing have gone way too far. This is undeniably destructive and requires serious self-examination and reform.
But for Christians, acknowledging that type of weirdness shouldn’t keep us from seeing that graver problems in our culture are inclined to come from elsewhere. We can reject bad, silly weirdness while being defiantly “weird” for righteousness’ sake.
This weirdness discourse has largely glossed over a key point of context: Many on the secular Left imagine absurdities and, excess of the Christian Right, won’t hesitate to jam them down people’s throats. Most obvious at once is the claim that men can grow to be women and vice versa, an idea that might have been heralded as farce for many of human history. But within the span of a decade, adherents of gender ideology have come to regulate many consequential, culture-shaping institutions and so can easily normalize what shouldn’t be normal. In fact, they’re capable of quickly solid any opposition as weirdness—or bigotry.
Issues like the fact of God-given sex have importance well beyond politics, in fact, and other lies now widely accepted in our culture, just like the morality of abortion, are tougher to see through and more deeply engrained. It is significant for Christians to be strong and vigilant in resisting these lies—to be willing to be “weird” in defense of truth.
That would require listening to conscience, even when the world threatens to crush us, because it has done to many Christian pharmacists, bakers, and others. It also means we must not prioritize the approval of elites over our principles. Like Paul, we must seek the approval of God, not people (Gal. 1:10), for “nobody can serve two masters. Either you’ll hate the one and love the opposite, otherwise you can be dedicated to the one and despise the opposite” (Matt. 6:24).
Besides, elite approval is unlikely without complete capitulation—just ask actor Chris Pratt, who got here under scrutiny for his church’s views on sexuality. Pratt is within the difficult position of being a Christian in Hollywood, and he’s clearly combating the best way to stay in the great graces of each God and the Screen Actors Guild.
However, we must also avoid a mindset that has grow to be too common in some Christian circles: the habit of assuming that every critique is unfair and even “proof” that we’re effective champions of truth. Jesus said that the world would oppose us irrespective of what (John 15:18–25), but we must always avoid making ourselves easy targets for allegations of hypocrisy, gullibility, or worse. We must do not forget that no politician can restore the world; only Christ’s return can do this (Rev. 21:5). And not all opposition is an element of an elaborate conspiracy—the truth is, though our situation could also be worse than at other points in American history, in comparison with Christians within the Roman Empire or many parts of the world today, we remain free and blessed.
We must also concentrate on how we’re perceived by the world, not to adapt to its lies but to raised spread the reality. Taylor Swift is not our ally, but neither is she even near the most important problem in our culture, and attacking her is unlikely to yield good fruit.
We might be more creative in crafting narratives too. Instead of going after Swift, for instance, indicate the conservative values that individuals of all stripes may find inspiring in her relationship with Kelce and his family. Instead of creating ourselves victims of an imagined conspiracy, indicate that Swift appears pleased in a standard relationship with a successful, masculine man.
These strategies will only accomplish that much, and plenty of on the planet will solid us as outsiders and freaks, whether we draw back like John the Baptist or engage like Jesus (Matt. 11:18–19). As Christians, we all know that that is inevitable and that our ways have to be different. We know that we’ll face scorn and mockery as we challenge dangerous lies with “credible” institutional backers. But we also know that we’ve got the reality, and that the reality doesn’t change, no matter what’s in style with our culture’s elite.
Matthew Malec is a research assistant on the Ethics and Public Policy Center.
