What Makes You So Sure?

A Hollow Pretense of Certainty

There is a lot of certainty in Washington these days. Secretary Kennedy is quite certain that vaccines cause autism. Stephen Miller is sure that societal ills are solved by ejecting people of various races and ethnicities. JD Vance thinks that women should vote the way their husbands tell them, and the president believes he won the 2020 election. There are no scientific, historical, or statistical data that would convince them otherwise. None of them appear open to hearing a dissenting view. I cannot say I’ve ever heard a single one of them begin a sentence with “Correct me if I’m wrong . . . .”

Such certainty belies fear: the misogynist’s fear that women or minorities will rob white men of their power; the narcissist’s fear of losing public attention; the conspiracist’s fear of change when science would require it. Certainty masquerades as strength when it takes the form of machismo, righteous indignation, and at times, religious fervor. It quickly morphs into authoritarian structures. To ask a question seems an affront to their authority, and that privilege, in their view, must remain unquestioned.

A certain stream of 20th century fundamentalism has followed a view of human relationships known as “umbrellas of authority.” It goes something like this: Children are under the unquestioned authority of their parents which sounds like, “Honor your father and your mother,” an idea deeply rooted in Judeo-Christian thought. But with a selectively literal reading of the epistles of Paul, this “parental” authority seeps into marriage. Wives are subject to their husband’s authority. It’s up to the husband to follow “Christ” and then everyone else is subject to his idea of what that means. Many evangelical ministers will speak of “pastoral authority,” and with the rise of the evangelical, independent, non-denominational megachurches, they become authorities unto themselves. To insist on denominational accountability or checks and balances to their ecclesiastical power is to threaten their freedom to “follow God.” Unfortunately, in some cases, this subjective approach to authority has led to unspeakable abuses of women, children, and congregants. The whole thing rests on the character of the leader, whether in the home or in the church. In far too many cases, such moral character is lacking.

Another significant umbrella is human government, or as Paul said, “the powers that be, which are ordained of God.” In other words, how dare we question Donald Trump? Try as they might to make this current executive a unitary one, fully immune from prosecution, and without reasonable limit, there’s simply no “there” there. When one climbs to the top of this authoritarian ladder one finds a moral, spiritual, and increasingly mental vacuum. If the founders and framers had believed such a thing, there would have been no American Revolution and no U.S. Constitution. Instead of the rule of law, we’d be ruled by any prevailing view of what “God wants.” If you want to know how that turns out, just read about the European religious wars that defined the western world over the last five hundred years.

We have a Constitution, and therefore a republic, because the British colonists could no longer abide the unquestioned authority of a king. Liberty of conscience is a messy thing, especially in a multicultural society, but it works well within the context of the First Amendment.

Historian and author Heather Cox Richardson in a recent post, Letters from an American December 21, 2025 , assessed Jame’s Madison’s 1785 “Memorial and Remonstrance against Religious Assessments” with these words:

[W]hat was at stake was not just religion, but also representative government itself. The establishment of one religion over others attacked a fundamental human right—an unalienable right—of conscience. If lawmakers could destroy the right of freedom of conscience, they could destroy all other unalienable rights. Those in charge of government could throw representative government out the window and make themselves tyrants.

We are witnesses to the largest attempt at tyranny on our shores in 250 years. Our representative government is being wrestled away from us by pseudo-christian white men, so fearful of their fragile egos that they will ignore the whole of human history in order to preserve their own power. They fail to recognize is that it has never ultimately worked. Not once.

Abusive authoritarianism eventually foments revolution. Like the ebb and flow of waves on the shore, it keeps happening. But gratefully the ocean is infinitely larger than any single wave. Our history is infinitely larger than one lifetime or one political movement.

To successfully navigate difficult times is to release our own perceived certainties about how to “fix” the mess. For all the talk of rebranding in the next political cycle, all the jockeying for positions and power as a new generation comes forward, as an older one reluctantly hands over the reins, we need to get into this human thing together, to get comfy with unanswered questions.

Uncertainty is the driver of all creative endeavor, of science, of wisdom, and I think of life itself. Let us never feel threatened by the words, “What makes you so sure?”