Michael: What if I told you that the most atheist, secular, progressive social justice warrior you know is, fundamentally, a Christian? Not in belief, but in their entire moral operating system. That's the explosive idea we're tackling today. Kevin: Whoa, that's a bold claim. You're saying someone passionately arguing for secular human rights is secretly channeling Sunday school? Where are you getting that from? Michael: This all comes from Tom Holland's monumental book, Dominion: The Making of the Western Mind. And it's an argument he builds over two thousand years of history, suggesting that the Christian revolution was so total, we in the West are like fish who don't even know we're swimming in Christian water. Kevin: And Holland is an interesting figure, right? He's a master storyteller, known for these sweeping narrative histories, but he comes from a background in English literature, not a formal history Ph.D. Which has led to some debate, but you can't deny the book has made a huge cultural splash. Michael: Absolutely. He writes with the flair of a novelist, which makes these huge ideas incredibly vivid. And to understand his point, you have to go back to the very beginning, to the ancient world. And specifically, to the most shameful, disgusting symbol imaginable: the cross.

Kevin: Okay, let's start there. Because when I think of the cross, I think of churches, jewelry, a symbol of faith. But that's not what it was back then. Michael: Not even close. In the Roman world, crucifixion was the ultimate degradation. It was a punishment reserved for the lowest of the low: slaves, rebels, pirates. It was a public spectacle of torture designed to scream one message: "This is what happens when you challenge the power of Rome." The great Roman orator Cicero even said of the cross, "Why, the very word is harsh on our ears." It was obscene. Kevin: So it's the worst of the worst. It's for the lowest of the low. How on earth does that become the central symbol of a global religion? That’s like founding a faith and making the electric chair your logo. It makes no sense. Michael: Exactly! And that is the revolution. Holland paints this incredible picture of the Esquiline Hill in ancient Rome. Before Christ, it was a literal garbage dump. A place where they threw the bodies of the poor, the executed, the unwanted. It was a place of vultures and stench and horror. Kevin: Sounds lovely. A real tourist hotspot. Michael: Right. But Christianity comes along, looks at the ultimate symbol of that horror—a tortured criminal on a cross—and says, "This is God." Not a triumphant emperor on a throne, not a wise philosopher in a garden, but a victim. A loser, in the eyes of the world. It completely flips the entire value system of antiquity on its head. Power, honor, victory—those were the Roman virtues. Christianity championed humility, suffering, and the victim. Kevin: That’s a huge claim. The idea that "the first will be last, and the last will be first." But was that just a nice-sounding phrase, or did it actually change how people saw the world? Michael: It changed everything, but slowly. Holland tells the story of Blandina, a Christian slave girl in Lyon in the 2nd century. She was arrested and subjected to the most horrific tortures imaginable—roasted on an iron chair, gored by a bull. But her endurance, her faith in the face of that suffering, didn't make her a pathetic victim in the eyes of her fellow Christians. It made her a hero. A spiritual athlete. Her story was written down and sent to churches across the empire as an inspiration. Kevin: Wow. So her weakness, her suffering, became her strength. That is a total reversal of the Roman mindset. Michael: A complete reversal. It’s the birth of a new kind of heroism. The idea that God is not with the powerful, but with the oppressed. That there is a dignity in the suffering of the lowest person that even an emperor can't touch. This is the seed that, over centuries, grows into our modern concepts of human dignity and rights. Kevin: That’s incredible. So it's not just about a different god, it's a completely different value system. It's a 'God for losers,' in the Roman sense of the word. But did this actually change how society was structured, or was it just a personal belief system?

Michael: That's the perfect question, and it leads right to the next phase of this revolution. For centuries, it was a slow burn, a subculture. But then came the Gregorian Reforms in the 11th century. This is where the Church went from being a spiritual influence to a society-shaping superpower. Kevin: I feel like "Gregorian Reforms" is one of those historical terms that makes my eyes glaze over. What does that actually mean in practice? Michael: It means the Church declared its independence. The central idea was libertas—freedom. For centuries, kings and local lords appointed bishops. The Church was basically a department of the state. The reformers, led by Pope Gregory VII, said, "No more." They argued that the spiritual realm was sovereign, separate from and even superior to the secular world of kings and armies. Kevin: Wait, are you saying the idea of 'separation of church and state' actually came from the Church? I always thought that was an Enlightenment idea designed to keep religion out of politics. Michael: That's the paradox Holland points out! It was the popes who first drew that line in the sand. And this wasn't just a philosophical debate; it led to one of the most dramatic showdowns in history. The Holy Roman Emperor, Henry IV, defied the Pope. So, Pope Gregory excommunicated him. Kevin: Which means what, exactly? He can't go to church? Michael: It means so much more. It meant that all of Henry's subjects—his dukes, his barons, his soldiers—were absolved of their oaths of loyalty to him. His entire political authority evaporated overnight. So, in the dead of winter, the most powerful man in Europe had to cross the Alps and stand barefoot in the snow for three days outside the castle of Canossa, begging the Pope for forgiveness. Kevin: That is an insane power move. A king kneeling to a pope. Michael: It was a public demonstration that there was a power higher than the king. And this is where law comes in. The Church started building its own legal system, what's called 'canon law,' to govern all of Christendom. Kevin: Okay, so what is 'canon law' and why does it matter to anyone who isn't a medieval monk? Michael: It matters because it was the laboratory for modern Western law. Thinkers like Gratian, a monk in Bologna, compiled all of the Church's rulings into a massive text. And they built it on a revolutionary idea: 'natural law.' The idea that because all humans are made in God's image, they are all equal in a fundamental way. This law, they argued, was universal and trumped any local custom or king's decree. Kevin: So they're creating a universal legal code based on human equality. Michael: Precisely. And they used it to do radical things. For example, they argued that marriage had to be based on the free consent of both the man and the woman. In a world where marriages were purely economic or political arrangements, this was earth-shattering. They argued that charity wasn't just a nice thing to do for the poor; it was a legal obligation. The rich had a duty to the destitute, because in the eyes of God, their souls were equal. This is the deep, legal, and structural re-wiring of a whole civilization.

Kevin: Okay, so I'm following the historical thread. We go from a bizarre cult worshipping a victim, to that cult developing a whole new moral and legal operating system for Europe. But how does this connect back to your opening hook? How does this make a modern, secular activist a 'Christian'? Michael: Because, Holland argues, all of these modern concepts—human rights, the inherent dignity of the individual, the belief that the powerful have a duty to protect the weak, the very idea that society should be reformed to be more just—these are not self-evident, universal truths. The Romans or the Vikings would have laughed at them. They are all downstream from that Christian revolution. Kevin: So our moral instincts aren't 'natural,' they're inherited. Michael: They are an inheritance. And Holland's most provocative claim is that many modern secular movements are essentially 'Christian heresies.' Kevin: Heresies? What does he mean by that? That sounds deliberately inflammatory. Michael: He means they take a core Christian concept, but they remove God from the equation. So, a movement like #MeToo, which argues that the powerful—historically, men—should not be allowed to abuse the vulnerable—historically, women—is a direct echo of the Christian protection of the weak and the idea of the sanctity of the body. Kevin: I can see that. It’s a call for justice for the victim. Michael: Exactly. A human rights campaign is a secularized version of the belief that every person possesses an immortal soul of infinite value. The idea of 'progress'—that history is moving towards a better future—is a secularized version of the Christian timeline of history, which moves from creation towards a final judgment and redemption. Even the Beatles singing "All You Need is Love" is a direct echo of Saint Augustine, who famously said, "Love, and do as you will." Kevin: That's a mind-bending way to look at it. So even when we think we're being our most modern, secular, and progressive selves, we're still just playing out scripts that were written two thousand years ago. Michael: We're using Christian grammar, even if we've forgotten the original language. Holland's point is that the influence is so deep, so foundational, that it's become invisible to us. We think our values are simply rational or obvious, but they are the product of a very specific, and very strange, historical earthquake. Kevin: It really makes you question where our 'natural' sense of right and wrong actually comes from. If it's not from reason alone, and it's not from some universal human nature, then it's a cultural inheritance. And a fragile one at that.

Michael: Exactly. And that's the ultimate power of Dominion. It's not an argument for or against belief. It's a historical argument that forces you to see that the West's moral instincts aren't universal; they are the inheritance of a very specific, and in the context of world history, very peculiar, revolution. A revolution that took the lowest of the low, the victim, and placed them at the very center of the human story. Kevin: It’s a powerful and, honestly, a challenging idea. It makes you re-evaluate everything. For our listeners, I think the biggest question this leaves me with is: if our values are built on this Christian foundation, what happens when we collectively forget that the foundation is even there? Can the building stand without it? Michael: That is the multi-trillion-dollar question, isn't it? It's a question Holland leaves hanging, and one we should all be thinking about. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Find us on our socials and let us know what you think. Does this idea resonate with you, or do you think Holland is overstating the case? Kevin: This is Aibrary, signing off.