
During a recent podcast interview, I was asked to comment on David Barton and Charlie Kirk. They have been two of the most prominent fabulists promoting Christian nationalism, the fiction that the United States was founded as and should remain a Christian nation.
I groaned—perhaps audibly, but certainly inwardly. “I’d rather not give these characters any oxygen,” I replied in a tone of resignation, “but I suppose we have to talk about them.”
I’m sure Kirk’s ideas have received a great deal of play since his death last week at the hands of a gunman in Orem, Utah. He asserted that “there is no separation of church and state” in America. He also argued that the “structure of government was built for the people who believed in Christ our Lord.”
Barton’s fabrications are everywhere on the political right, despite his history of making up, well, history.
Barton has fashioned an entire career out of wrenching quotes out of context or fabricating them entirely, a malpractice so egregious that his very conservative publisher, Thomas Nelson, withdrew Barton’s book The Jefferson Lies from circulation, despite the fact it was on the New York Times Bestseller list.
Let’s pause for a moment to consider how bad a book must be for its publisher to yank it off the bestseller list.
A world of credit goes to Warren Throckmorton, a retired professor from Grove City College, for exposing Barton’s lies. Together with his co-author Michael Coulter, Throckmorton has painstakingly examined Barton’s claims and quotations, matching them against what the founders actually said.
It’s a slow, laborious process—and largely a thankless one. But one that’s essential.
And that’s why I groaned when asked about Kirk and Barton.
Why do I have to waste my time arguing against these characters? I have other projects I find far more compelling.
Early in my career, while filming a PBS documentary on creationism, we interviewed the renowned Harvard scientist Stephen Jay Gould. In several of our earlier interviews, various creationists attempted to argue that the conversation between creationists and scientists over evolution was a lively and vibrant debate.
So I put the question to Gould. Do scientists, the vast majority of whom regard evolution as foundational to scientific pursuit, regard creationism as a worthy foil?
Gould shook his head and said “no,” although he allowed that there might be a few fringe figures who “might be credentialed in a certain way” who claim to be creationists.
Then Gould continued, expressing his impatience. Academic careers are short, he said, thirty to forty years, and there’s a world of exciting research out there. Gould understood and accepted his responsibility to refute erroneous ideas, but he wasn’t too happy about it because it diverted his time and energies from more satisfying pursuits.
I understand. And I also understand why so many scholars refuse to engage with popular figures who traffic in misinformation. It can get messy, with gratuitous attacks, hate mail, and even threats.
At times, it seems unfair, like David against Goliath. The opposing forces are organized and enjoy well-oiled machines propagating their dishonesty.
It’s much easier for scholars to retreat into the ivory tower and communicate only with one another. But I continue to believe that one of the reasons we’re in so much trouble as a society today is that scholars have refused to engage the broader public.
That’s not to assert that scholars know better than anyone else. That’s not even remotely true.
However, when historians, scientists or other scholars remain silent on matters related to their expertise, it allows charlatans like Kirk and Barton to flourish and spread their lies with impunity.
I expect that, at least for a time, Kirk’s ideas will be amplified by his followers, many of whom want to portray him as a martyr. That may be inevitable, but truth remains a powerful antidote.
Those who know better must remain vigilant and speak against misinformation.


