I recently had a disturbing interaction with someone at a social event during which a lighthearted conversation became an uncomfortable theological debate. In a matter of moments, the entire mood changed. Instead of engaging in carefree conversation, my acquaintance suddenly moved in with an argumentative-yet-excited tone like a shark smelling blood in the water.
They didn’t appear to want to learn from me or hear what I had to say. Rather, I sensed their leading “gotcha” questions were meant to prove a point, to rhetorically trap me. They let me speak, but they didn’t want to mutually share ideas. My words were not received as a chance to think about a new perspective, but rather, as an opportunity to verbally duel with an opponent.
Theological leaders and scholars were referenced, but not as expert voices in their respective fields or helpful guides to our dialogue. Instead, they were labeled as ideological villains and “heretics” to avoid. Accusations were thrown at me without first permitting me to lay out what I believed. If I tried to ask a follow up question, I received simplistic retorts such as “It’s right there in the Bible” or “Look at the text!”
The way we engage in disagreement is just as important as the content that we are disagreeing about, and the way we speak to others is just as important as the beliefs and ideas we hold.
No logical argument was laid out; no solid exegetical claims were made. We eventually found some middle ground but it wasn’t easily agreed upon. Not because we didn’t have commonality in our opinions and beliefs, but because this person’s posture was not initially open to finding it. While I was trying to hear and be heard in order to begin a charitable conversation from a place of common ground, the other person sought to rhetorically attack and conquer, with the ultimate goal of emerging from the back-and-forth conversation victorious and holding the trophy of a point “proven.”
The experience was very disorienting. Not only because of how aggressive my acquaintance became, but because of how familiar this style of rhetoric felt. Where have I heard this kind of dialogue before?, I asked, only later realizing the source of this kind of aggressive, disingenuous way of interacting with others: YouTube.
Over the last few years, I’ve become more aware of how political and theological apologists have utilized YouTube, Instagram, and TikTok in a way that’s harmful to followers of Jesus. Some of the ideas and views promoted by YouTube theologians and social media influencers are quite alarming, especially considering the millions of views and thousands of likes their videos garner. But just as problematic is the model and methods they promote in their YouTube videos, Instagram reels, and TikTok clips for interacting and engaging with those with whom you disagree.
Famous online influencers such as Charlie Kirk and Allie Beth Stuckey have impacted thousands upon thousands with their blend of conservative values and a certain kind of theological apologetics. However, they often rely on logical fallacies or questionable statistics to prove their points. Alongside ideological rivals such as Dean Withers, Kirk, Stuckey, and many others have also shared short-form video content that’s packaged in such a way as to intentionally make it look like they’ve dominated their opponent in an argument.
I remember one specific occasion where Charlie Kirk visited Cambridge for a debate. In the days that followed, various social media accounts circulated short clips of the debate that favored their preferred side. So I dedicated my time to watch most of the almost two-hour-long YouTube video to see the full context, which revealed that the clips circulating around social media were taken out of context. Those short clips, when edited a certain way, often suggested that one person was the clear winner of the argument when, in fact, the reality was far less dramatic or decisive. But this isn’t merely an issue of random social media accounts promoting misleading content. These influencers’ official digital platforms are also guilty of posting attention-grabbing, reality-shaping edits.
Influential figures like Ben Shapiro, Candace Owens, and Nick Fuentes use extremist rhetoric, conspiracy theories, and misinformation to share their opinions and ideas with the digital world. Be it the presentation of their ideas or their model of engaging—and disagreeing—with others, these famous influencers promote a way of public discourse that is alarming even as their actual content strays farther away from academic integrity, intellectual honesty, and virtue of character. While such content can captivate millions, it fails to retain the necessary accuracy, nuance, detail, or context required for actual learning and thoughtful discourse.
How is all of this shaping us?
In his book Digital Liturgies, Samuel D. James is spot on when he categorizes the internet as an “epistemelogical environment—a spiritual and intellectual habitat—that creates in its members particular ways of thinking, feeling, and believing.”1 James goes on to suggest that the nature of the internet—its design, framework, and trends—has the power to shape us with “digital liturgies.”2
James’ thesis is that the digital world—which he describes as “the disembodied electronic environment that we enter through connected devices for the purpose of accessing information, relationships, and media that are not available to us in physical format”3—can shape our worship. Make no mistake: the digital model for engaging with people with whom we disagree and the positioning of those interactions are discipling people. But are they leading people closer to conformance with the image of Christ? Are they helping Christians to more faithfully follow the teachings of the rabbi from Nazareth? I worry that the answer to those questions is an increasingly clear “absolutely not.”
The way we engage in disagreement is just as important as the content that we are disagreeing about, and the way we speak to others is just as important as the beliefs and ideas we hold. From what I can see of this online content, however, sounding right is at an all-time premium despite how little truth may be present in one’s claims. Showcasing certainty and performative dogma has become more important in some circles than the genuine and honest pursuit of knowledge and truth. Rapid-fire responses and “gotcha” gimmicks are promoted more than listening with humility or intellectual curiosity.
James K. A. Smith affirms this observation in Make Your Home in This Luminous Darkness, commenting that the digital polemics of social media produce binary thinking. He writes that social media has become a “terrain for argumentation, but given the performative dynamics of display that accompany social media, being seen as winning the argument is even more important than validity or truth.”4 He goes on to boldly assert that “no one ventures onto social media hoping to find nuance.”5
What happens to us when sounding right becomes more important than sound doctrine? When appearing correct becomes more important than truth? The kind of intellectual and theological formation we are being led into is toxic to our souls. Digital thought leaders and content role-models who use misleading tactics and logical fallacies will not help our spiritual growth; their kind of discourse is poisonous to it. And if truth itself is centered on the Triune God who is love, then how can we separate virtue and love from our learning endeavors as modeled by certain YouTubers?
I’ve encountered many evangelicals echoing YouTube and social media arguments as their own ideas. But what’s also concerning is that they employ the same tactics seen on YouTube and social media. Some people I’ve talked to will concede that the tone, tactics, and posturing aren’t admirable, and so they try to filter and sort out the content from the arguments and tactics. But can we really compartmentalize like that? There is a spirit of arrogance to these kinds of digital debates and online disagreements and that same spirit has great potential to corrupt our own discipleship. It’s a kind of a spiritual oneupmanship that is disintegrating our spiritual formation.
These same ideas that so many listen to and make their own are produced by people who view their ideological opponents as enemies to defeat. They portray conversations as chances to dominate and disagreements as opportunities for verbal conquest. And in all of these interactions, they approach the world through an egocentric lens of individualism that teaches viewers to lecture and debate rather than to listen and learn.
Furthermore, when we open up our devices and begin to watch videos of people debating and arguing, we are already engaging in a form of disembodied conversation through the digital world. We continue to watch figures and thought leaders who we often don’t know very well and with whom we have no personal connection argue with each other in manipulative, coercive, and degrading ways. The concepts and ideas being presented (especially in terms of theology and politics) are deeply personal, meaningful, and important topics that need detail and context; they are not topics that should be removed from the origins of the peoples and places from which they arise. And yet, the digital world does just that.
Beautiful streams of church history are turned into digital entertainment to be consumed. Profound theological topics are twisted into petty arguments to prop up an ideological position. Pressing political matters that come from and impact real people are torn from their contexts to become soundbites that comfort and soothe the religious consumer. Reality is twisted and manipulated to become rhetorical weapons. Intelligent scholars and pastors whom we don’t know personally are turned into villains that we are encouraged to judge and condemn. I am not anti-internet; I am not advocating for a mass exodus from all digital forms of media and communication. But it would serve us well to widely discern who and what is guiding our intellectual, theological, and political reflections.
Practically, it would deeply benefit Christians on social media to evaluate the kinds of voices they listen to. Find voices that are both intelligent and virtuous, thoughtful and kind, confident yet curious. They are out there, I promise. Additionally, make time to read books and go to the original sources. AI summaries and YouTube explanations are great tools but can never replace the journey of studying the Scriptures, learning from history, or being theologically guided by voices from Church history. Finally, make space to think for yourself and have real conversations. Don’t always take the digital shortcuts. Ask good questions and wrestle with the answers. Find time to think through issues by yourself or with a friend rather than turn instantly to a clickbait internet personality you can parrot.
As disciples inhabiting a digital age, we must be more discerning. We must consider how the liturgies of our lives, both digital and embodied, reflect the rhythms of our lives at a personal, communal, and societal level. The question is not “Am I being influenced?” but rather, “Who and what is shaping me?” and “Who am I becoming?”
- James, Samuel D. Digital Liturgies: Rediscovering Christian Wisdom in an Online Age. (Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2023), 9. ↩︎
- Ibid., 11. ↩︎
- Ibid., 12. ↩︎
- Smith, James K. A. Make Your Home in This Luminous Darkness: Mysticism, Art, and the Path of Unknowing, (Yale University Press: London), 63. ↩︎
- Ibid. ↩︎
