Modernity is myopic. We tend to assume that everybody in the past, deep down, thought in the same way we do, with the same essential premises. Further, we’re terrible at logical (or strategic) empathy, at seeing people through their own eyes.¹ Even nowadays, ask one side of politics to explain the other’s worldview, and you’ll be a biased mess that reflects not the person described but the person describing (the left is perhaps more guilty of this, but only by a little). In our fiction, then, we have difficulty setting aside our preconceptions. When we write other cultures, other religions, we tend to assume that at their core everybody believes what we do. This is deadly to worldbuilding.

Historically, people tend to actually believe in their religion. Modernity teaches pluralist secularism. Now, properly viewed, pluralist secularism is itself a religion (or a category of religions); further, pluralist secularism has a fundamental assumption that theology isn’t relevant to life. The secular assertion is that while religion might matter in private, when it comes to everything else, secular criteria are what matter. This is a religious assertion.

Modern authors, steeped in the assumptions of pluralist secularism, all too often write characters who don’t actually believe what they believe. They go to church, and they do the rituals, yes. What they don’t do, however, is base their choices on their religion. They don’t assume their religion as a fundamental element of life. Why? Historically, every religion has commanded precisely that. The reason is this: these characters do implement a religion in their daily lives, but they’re implementing the religion of pluralist secularism, not whatever faith, historical or fictional, they ostensibly hold to.

When you’re on the outside looking in, as we are when writing a character with a religion we don’t share, it’s easy to think it’s really, really silly to believe in this. Who actually believes that there are at least four afterlives, including multiple iterations of heaven, with two intermediate states before those afterlives are populated? Who actually believes that a guy sitting on top of Mount Olympus is in control of not just the weather but numerous other people who control numerous other incomprehensibly influential phenomenon? Who actually believes that there is an ineluctable historical conspiracy that controls the minds of friends and enemies alike in order to perpetuate the advantages of a singular race, even without that race’s permission? In order, I can answer you: Mormons,² ancient Greeks, and the orthodox left in the modern West. From the outside, these beliefs are absurd. From the inside, they are reality.

Here’s where logical empathy comes in. Logical empathy means the ability to enter into and see the world through the eyes of the other person, not in order to simply feel the way they do (that’s what we normally mean by empathy, and it’s counterproductive to clear thinking) but in order to understand why they feel as they do, why they think as they do, why they act as they do. Then, in daily life, once we understand this, we can withdraw and analyze it from our own perspective, through our own worldview, with a clearer understanding of the truth.³ With our characters, we must apply logical empathy. This means we have to write them and understand them not just from our perspective but from their perspective.

Thus, if you write a character who is sincerely involved in ancient Greek religion, he must actually believe in that religion. If the culture your character comes from believes in the god Tash, worships this god, venerates him, fears him, your character, unless he’s an intentional exception to the rule, should do likewise, at least at the beginning of his character arc. A devout follower of Tash will not transgress the taboos of his religion just because you, the author, don’t respect those taboos. If Tash says not to eat pomegranates on the third day of the month, he’s not going to eat pomegranates on the third day of the month. Even if he’s impious or skeptical, his culture’s religion will leave him with certain assumptions as to right and wrong, as to theology, as to how to think.

Of course, skeptics do exist in history. Rome had its fair share of men who didn’t believe in the general religion. These men, though, tended to believe in philosophy: Epicureanism, Stoicism, etc. Thus to call them irreligious would be wrong; they simply had a different religion. So let’s modify the statement: Societies sincerely believe their religion; individuals always believe some religion (even if it’s merely an excuse to selfish goals for some). Characters, then, will believe in and act upon a religion, often a religion you, the author, don’t share, possibly even one you fabricated wholesale. They will be sincere in this. Culture are the same.

Very often the religion of the characters and that of the culture differ. It may be in small things, in emphases. It may be in large things: he may be a skeptic, he may have another religion, he may be part of an idiosyncratic sub-cult. He may believe but only lazily, without real passion or commitment. Whatever he thinks, you must understand it from his perspective, not yours.

This is made more complex, of course, by the fact that different parts of each society will emphasize different parts of the religion, sometimes consciously so. The upper class might emphasize certain mysteries, certain rituals, certain ideas which they perceive as more advanced, high-minded, or traditional, as their value system may urge them. The lower class, meanwhile, may prefer the stories and parts of their religion which speak of care for the unfortunate, of hard work rewarded, or of the reward given to those who live lives congruent to their caste. Of course, I’ve just massively over-simplified. Every society has more than two classes, more than three. Bakers, kings, professors, local priests, city priests, candlemakers, smiths, soldiers, generals, nobles, bureaucrats, each will have their own flavor. In fact, each individual will form his own slightly different concept of his religion, just as each locale will have a certain preference. For an example of this, look at how Catholicism emphasizes the worship⁴ of different saints in different circumstances, by occupation, situation, locale, and preference, so that the thousand bits of society each have their own patron deity.

Further, as modern society demonstrates, skepticism isn’t just an individual thing. ‘Religion’, in the sense of theistic or spiritual theology, can be generally rejected. The culture of 18^th century England had a large component of this, turning to pseudo-Christian ideas, like nascent Deism, and to the rationalist-materialist emergent orthodoxy among the intellectuals. It was a society, nonetheless, which paid lip service to the church, to Christianity. Renaissance Italy experienced something similar: you were expected to be a Catholic ‘Christian’, but never a sincere one. Indeed, sincerity and passion in religion was ridiculed. For these societies, at least in certain sectors of the culture, insincere religion was the norm and the expectation rather than the exception. Here, the perspective we as authors must emulate may actually be one of skepticism- but even here it should be the character’s skepticism, not our own or our culture’s. What one man sees as absurd in a religion, another may see as normal, even if they both agree it’s all bunk.

Finally, we must acknowledge that beyond our religious assumptions, cultures inculcate us with different unconscious presumptions on how things work. In Korea, both language and practice are strictly structured to indicate social position in every interaction. In that culture, you don’t simply call somebody by their name; you follow the rules, and you address them with honorifics, with words prescribed by their relative social position. The authority of this social positioning is immense, and it isn’t just a pretense. Koreans aren’t all going around acting on a social code none of them believe in; this is a fact of life, a code created by the adherence and respect given to it by the vast majority in the society. Koreans assume a natural respect-relationship, where Americans would find it unnatural and forced. There is a difference in cultural expectation.

These sorts of cultural difference are present and pervasive. One culture believes in linear, progressing history; another in cyclical, self-reverting history. They will act on these assumptions, even when they are only half recognized. If you write somebody from a different culture, you must recognize that their mode of thought, their implicit assumptions, may be very different from your own. If so, it is our responsibility as authors to understand and reflect those altered assumptions- even if we’re the ones who created the culture in the first place.

All this talk boils down to one thing in the end: we must understand our character in order to tell the truth about them and about human nature. A character who comes from a different culture and a different religion will be sincerely different from us, in ways we may not have realized people could be different. Further, in depicting cultures and religions other than our own, we must look at them from the inside as well as the outside. These religions, these cultural practices, they are not pretenses that everybody inside is secretly laughing.⁵ They are sincere and important parts of life to their participants, no matter how silly they look.

God bless.

Footnotes

1 – My term for it.

2 – Based on this link, which seems reputable: LINK.

3 – Used in relationships, this is what is termed ‘strategic empathy’, understanding the other person’s goals in order to understand their actions. If you want to see people with a total lack of it, look at modern Western geopolitics, 2020-2024.

4 – I am aware that Catholic theology does not term it worship. I find the distinction truly untenable- see Calvin here and a debate on the topic here. Further, the Catholic use of saints does truly reflect the pagan practice of patron deities, household gods, and the like.

5 – Here is a good article on a related topic.