Does diversity cover a multitude of sins?

What is the purpose of education? Is it, as Justice Sonya Sotomayor recently wrote in dissent of Mahmoud v. Taylor, “that children may come together to learn not the teachings of a particular faith, but a range of concepts and views that reflect our entire society”? That is, for the Catholic school-educated, students attend school not to learn truth but to hear diverse viewpoints, not to acquire firm knowledge but to survey the landscape.

The situation that prompted Mahmoud, a suit brought by Christian, Jewish, and Muslim parents against a Maryland school district for prohibiting an opt-out from gender identity and LGBTQ instruction, is a symptom of a deeper issue. The plaintiffs defended themselves against the new gender and sexual orthodoxies with the shield of religious freedom. Yet, before these orthodoxies were established, they entered classrooms across America under the shield of diversity, which asserts that all viewpoints are equal and therefore welcome. To exclude is to discriminate, a grave evil. Diversity is our strength, the mantra goes, so every person and every idea must be included in America.

These new gender and sexual orthodoxies were once labeled differently: they were sins. But because the Secular Magisterium has defined diversity as a chief dogma, they are now not sins but “lifestyle choices.” And they have a purpose beyond simply taking a place as one idea among many: they undermine the Judeo-Christian understanding of humanity and sexuality. Why else would Montgomery County not allow opt-outs from this kind of instruction?

The diversity shield has done more than protect, and eventually mainstream, new manifestations of gender and sexuality. It has been used for decades to allow heterodox ideas into humanities and religion programs. The humanities have endured general advocacy for socialism and communism, along with specific curricula like the 1619 Project and other anti-racist programming. Religion programs, especially Catholic ones, have featured theologians whose writings undermine the faith a school professes. In the name of diversity, titles by Hans Küng, Richard McBrien, Roger Haight, Elizabeth Johnson, Elaine Pagels, and Bart Ehrman have rounded out syllabi across the country.

Can we read these authors, use these curricula, and allow these gender-bending ideas in the name of diversity? Does diversity cover a multitude of sins?

The answer depends on our definition of education. If we accept the classical view of education—to form students in wisdom and virtue by coming to knowledge of the truth—then the answer is, “No, but.” It is a clear “no” in that what is true ought to lead curricula in all subjects and in all schools, religious or not, especially in grammar and high schools, when students possess more limited intellectual capabilities. Students should first encounter the best of what is true, good, and beautiful in every subject and at every level. Only then are they mentally equipped to evaluate challenges to the truth.

The “but” pertains to two points. First, we have to define “diverse.” Is it merely “different,” as, say, Platonic versus Aristotelian metaphysics, or competing interpretations on the appropriateness of the New Deal or the character of Odysseus? Surely there is no problem with “different” takes on a single theme, provided students are advanced enough to comprehend these differences; students certainly will not lose their faith by learning them. Or does “diverse” mean “counter,” such that a certain “diverse perspective” undermines established truth claims, such as there are only two sexes or that the Bible is a trustworthy book?

This leads to the second aspect of “No, but.” In higher levels of education, these “counterclaims” can be evaluated critically in their own right and contrasted with the truth to foster deeper understanding. These perspectives would be of secondary concern: they can be presented as foils, ledes, or rivals to make for compelling lessons. “Counterclaims” do not belong in primary school grade levels, where advocates have been determined to implant them. Case in point: Justice Sotomayor photocopied the entirety of Uncle Bobby’s Wedding, a book that seeks to normalize marriage between men, to prove, in her mind, how harmless it is.

If these counter perspectives are the only kinds listed on a syllabus, then the course will likely elevate heterodoxy over orthodoxy, new age ideologies over the truth. By contrast, schools and teachers committed to the truth would be highly unlikely to honor these perspectives by compelling their students to purchase these books. They deem their sins too grave to be forgiven—or at least to be allowed a prominent place in the classroom.

If, however, we define education as Justice Sotomayor—an encounter with varying concepts and experiences while disavowing transcendent truth—then, in theory, ideological fads and suspect theories have as much claim to syllabi as Aristotle, St. Thomas Aquinas, and Shakespeare.

In theory—for we know that schools that have elevated their diverse perspectives, which are counter perspectives, into the new orthodoxies tolerate no rivals. It’s a cruel irony that only schools that embrace the classical view of education are accused of intolerance and close-mindedness. Not allowing an opt-out to gender and sexuality instruction that directly challenges prominent religions and thousands of years of human experience is rather intolerant.

Put simply, diversity cannot be wielded as a shield to justify heterodoxy. Counter perspectives that undermine truth, especially when it concerns human sexuality and religious faith, counter the very purpose of education classically understood. They can wreak irreparable harm on children who may never come to know the truth as a result.