#like an offhand comment to a friend of mine changed the entire course of their education and where they might do their Master's degree

[an--artistic--autistic]

i love seeing all the ways I've influenced people over the time I've known them

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

Different, But Same

[Part 1 of my Tomgreg Analysis Series]

TL;DR - Shiv and Greg tend to mirror each other a long in the sequence of the story especially in regards to Tom. This is interesting as Shiv is Tom's romantic partner which the same relationship is echoed very strongly with Tom and Greg.

One of my most interesting observations in regards to the whole Tom/Shiv and Tom/Greg situation is how Greg and Shiv's narrative arc seem similar in regards to their relationship with Tom. However, because of certain reasons, the relationship that Tom has with Greg is more stronger despite the same narrative followed for Shiv as well.

Also disclaimer : THIS IS TINHATTERY! THIS IS ME THEORISING! YOU CAN ALWAYS DISAGREE / AGREE WITH ME.

I'm just having some fun here.

1. Initial Circumstances of meeting Tom

In S01E01, we see the circumstances in which Tom and Greg meet each other for the first time. Yes, with the volatile reaction that Tom has of "would you kiss me if I asked you? if I told you to?" (That is a whole another topic that I'll later delve into about shame and queerness in Succession) However, but the time Greg dejectedly stands at the door Logan's hospital cabin with uncertainty about his job at Waystar, S01E02, Tom makes an important offer to Greg. He offers to "look after" Greg in his time of need and help him.

Interestingly, later in the series, in an offhand comment, Shiv mentions how she herself was not in a good state of mind or in a stable position of life when she met Tom. [I don't recall the exact episode where this conversation takes place - but I'm pretty sure this happens]

Regardless, in different times of the show, Shiv depends on Tom to help her through stressful circumstances.

Tom is a dependable person for both Shiv and Greg through his emotional support as well as professional support for these people.

2. RECNY BALL Incident

In S01E04, the notable RECNY Ball takes place which is overshadowed by the fact that Tom receives papers about the Cruises Scandal from Bill. There are two people that Tom informs about the papers : his assistant, Greg Hirsch and his wife to be, Siobhan Roy.

This is one of the multiple instances where Greg and Shiv are placed in the same context for Tom.

When Gerri confronts Tom about the holding a press conference. However, (this is the point where the Tomgreg subtext becomes stronger) when Greg defends himself, Tom seems to believe him which ends up casting strong suspicion on Shiv. This is interesting as this takes place, weeks? days? after having met Greg for the first time and despite, fact that Tom is going to be married to Shiv, he doesn't trust her.

Greg's subordinate status to Tom and his disconnect from the Roys (the situation happens to be opposite for Shiv) is what makes Tom believe him in the first place. Tom has never felt secure in his relationship with Shiv because of his perceived inferior status. However, in regards to Greg, he's in a more balanced position (even superior to Greg) which is why he feels strongly about protecting Greg as well as is comfortable in his relation (though he expresses jealousy? at Greg's closeness with Kendall professionally later on).

He assigns the job of burning the papers to Greg which brings the both closer as they have a secret between them. (Even Shiv doesn't know about the papers until their wedding) Greg and Tom can trust each other to some extend because of the Cruises burning incident because if one of them reveals it then the other goes down. (This analysis does not currently take into account Greg revealing the papers at the press conference - by that point he's reached a position where he can reach out for things other than what Tom can offer him)

3. They both betray Tom as well as Logan

Shiv joins Nate professionally which leads her to not only later cheat on Tom despite their ongoing engagement, but it also brings her into conflict with Logan Roy as she decides to align herself with Senator Gil Eavis who is extremely anti-Logan. Her alliance with Nate causes strong jealousy for Tom wherein he asks Shiv about Nate (which also later is apparent with how Tom humiliates him later with the wine).

In a similar vein, Greg encourages Kendall during the night of Shiv's wedding with "things have to change here". And later on, not only aligns himself such strongly with Kendall that prompts Tom to ask him about it during Hungary and says "a girl can start to wonder."

Both of these alliances are detrimental to Logan as they challenge his place in the throne. However, Shiv's alliance with Eavis collapses easily due to difference in views. It would be interesting if the Kenstar Gregco alliance lasts longer due to the consequences that might result if they try to break apart as well as the blood bond which makes the link more stronger.

4. They both negotiate with Gerri using the Cruises Papers

Tracking on the fact that Shiv and Greg are the ones that mainly know about the papers. They leverage this information in a way that benefits them or creates additional favours for them.

This is initially seen when Greg rats out Tom's plan to do a new conference exposing Cruises to Gerri which is how she shuts him down quickly. This gives Greg a favourable opinion from Gerri, a proximity to the power of Waystar and benefits him even though it screws Tom over.

In a similar vein, Shiv does the same thing when she negotiates with Gerri, Logan's spokesperson, during her wedding night to stop the attacks on Eavis. She uses it to benefit the person she is working for.

This is a very small similarity, but is also another way they both mirror each other in the arc of the story.

5. A sense of moral superiority

Again minor point, but interestingly, both Shiv and Greg have a sense of moral superiority over not being as involved in the business and their sense of doing the right thing.

(This may later diminish as both get more and more stuck with the core of the business, but this is at like early S2)

Greg brings it up first when Tom brings him to ATN with his whole speech on "principles". Tom admonishes Greg with "of course, we're trying to do the right thing. We all are, so don't go talking about principles."

A similar thing repeats when Shiv admonishes Tom about Logan's decision to purchase Pierce. She makes a point about how terrible ATN is the fact that she needs to get proper news from a "respectable" source.

Both of them throw Tom's involvement with ATN as well as Waystar by a way of sticking to principles while being incredibly hypocritical themselves.

6. "Open Marriage"

This is self-explanatory for the most part, but at the same time, it's one of the biggest points for this mirror as well as for Tomgreg.

As mentioned before Tom feels a sense of inferiority with Shiv, which is why he is the more meeker one in the relationship. Which makes him accept the "open marriage" idea with Shiv even though he is essentially being cheated on the entire time.

However, in regards to Greg, the same inferiority does not appear. And by the time, the famous "I will not let go of what is mine" scene, Tom and Greg are friends to a bit. They go out for the ortolan scene (which has a separate analysis about physical hunger and queerness as well later - food metaphors are strong in Succession), Greg tells Tom about Shiv's cheating and Tom has brought Greg into ATN.

[These small things cement the relationship between them and show that Tom and Greg enjoy themselves outside the confines of Waystar which Tom and Shiv struggle with as seen in the case of their honeymoon]

However, Greg's use of "open marriage" causes Tom to not only express his anger, but provides a space to express the anger. He publicly declares how upset he feels that Greg wants to leave and interestingly, uses relationship specific terms like "break up" to talk about Greg's proposal. He repeatedly asserts that Greg is "his" and this brings in a context of jealousy with Kendall when Tom questions about Greg spending more time with Kendall later on in Hungary.

7. They both ask favours from Tom which put him in trouble with Logan

In the Hungary episode, both Shiv and Greg ask Tom do certain favours (In case of Shiv, it is for Tom to ask Logan about the Pierce deal and convey everybody's dissatisfaction. And in case of Greg, it is to hide that fact that he met with Pantsil from Logan).

Now, Tom has been clearly established as a strong sycophant in regards to whoever is at the helm of Waystar (conveying Kendall about Ewan coming to the board meeting as well as cheering on Logan when he announces Pierce) so the only way he would take a risk for a person is if he's close to them. This makes sense in case of Shiv as she is his literal wife, however, this comparison is interesting when we think about Greg in this context. Tom goes lengths to protect Greg to the point he is humiliated by the employees and his in-laws only which is huge as throughout the entire series Tom has simply been trying to fit in with the Roys to the point, he wants to change his last name after marriage.

8. Both are put in position where they are can be the successor of the company and in turn, can become Tom's boss

This happens mostly at the end of S2, but, the entire time Shiv is championed as the Successor by Logan Roy himself which makes Tom assume that he will later on succeed her. However, this is turned to the head when Shiv proclaims that she does want to run the company. In doing so, she will become Tom's boss which is disappointing to Tom because, it will only emphasis on his sense of inferiority as well as the fact that he cannot take care of her (because as established before he is the person that cares for people, especially ones that he loves).

A same dynamic emerges as Greg aligns himself with Kendall. This exponentially increases his chances of being the Successor (especially if Kendall drops out somehow either due to drugs or any other circs) which would also untie the two Roys. This would similar draw the same conflict Tom faces with Shiv as the successor.

Therefore, in bringing Shiv and Greg together again and again, I feel like it enhances the romantic subtext between Tom and Greg (as it literally swaps out the man's wife for his lanky assistant) as well as brings out a stronger comparison as Tom and Greg have done things to each other as well as for each other which ties them together more closely than Tom and Shiv.

Just imho.

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[lunaraen]

“Hearts are fickle things. They seem to break at the slightest shove. I’d much rather give mine away.” “Well, I wouldn’t mind having yours...” Magnus/Ellegaard? Am I doing this correctly? 😓 I’m so sorry if I’m not-

It feels like it's just the two of them on the roof, only the occasional noise coming from the new settlement below- little more than a camp but growing by the day with more and more followers eager to greet and behold their heroes- and the much closer trees as their branches sway in the wind. The moon hangs high in a clear sky colored by swirls of stars and brighter spots, ones that Ellegaard can name as specific planets.

(Nerd.)

It's wrong.

It's a storybook night meant for storybook heroes. The Order of the Stone.

(Who came up with that dumb name? Soren? Ellegaard?

Was it is his own drunken suggestion?)

It's a beautiful night in all the ways it shouldn't be, in all the ways it has no right to be, and Magnus internally curses the nice night as he passes Ellie the cigarette they've been sharing.

And if Ivor were still here, he'd make a stink about the cig, the way Ellegaard normally does. But Ivor isn't here, is he? That's the whole reason things are fucked up like they are, why they're hurting in all the wrong ways inside. Instead, Magnus is here, and he figures it's better the devil he knows, the sick taste of cigarettes and the lung damage that inevitably comes with it in place of the burn of whiskey and the spiral into one drunken blackout after another.

Besides, he and Ellie have a whole thing, banter wise, going on about cigarettes and smoking. She's less likely to slip into it as a habit and deal with actual damage than she is if he'd helped her drown her sorrows or whatever. They've done enough drinking, lately.

Never mind that getting drunk on a roof's a pretty good way to die stupidly.

(He's not helping her with that, either.)

So, here they are, hurting and smoking and staring up at the sky like it can keep whatever answers it has and shove the ones it doesn't.

It's the first time in weeks that Magnus has managed to really hang out with her again.

He's not great at comfort, but he can do shared bitterness. And if Ellegaard wants to get poetic, he'll listen, though even grief won't keep him from giving less poetic responses.

"Hearts are fickle things. They seem to break at the slightest shove. I’d much rather give mine away."

It's a whole lot of anguish, jaded and weary, that he's never heard in her voice before, despite all the other messes they've gotten into before, the less than stellar backgrounds they crawled out of.

(Not that he can’t relate to what she’s saying, because the desire to crawl off to some remote, desolate tower and stay there is strong.)

So Magnus does what he does best, blowing a smoke ring that wobbles and dissolves into the darker splotches of night when she hands him the cigarette and shrugging as he gives an offhand comment that's surprisingly hard not to mumble.

"Well, I wouldn’t mind having yours..."

There's a dumb thought that goes with that, something right out of Gabriel's latest speech to their adoring 'fans', embodying stupid chivalry and valor like it means something when it comes from people like them.

The dumb thought is that, if Magnus had her heart, he could at least try to keep it safe. He wants to keep all their hearts safe, like that's possible. Like they'd ever let him. He's a griefer who breaks things, time after time, but deep down he just wants to take the shards of their strained and broken friendships and fix them back up.

That's Ellie's job, though, fixing things up or making them useful.

Magnus wants chaos, because it's his nature, but the pain of the last few weeks has been nothing short of awful. It's change, sure, at what cost? This isn't fun change or his brand of hectic shenanigans, the kind Gabriel used to help him with while Ellegaard shrieked at their heels.

He wants to fix what they broke, but he's never been able to undo a TNT blast before. Now doesn't seem any different.

"Seriously?" She's looking at him, really looking at him in a way she hasn't since he got her up here. The raised eyebrow and disbelieving tone would make him more defensive if he hadn't been desperate for a response that wasn't entirely negative.

He offers her the smoke again, crushing the lit end against one of the roof's many carved stone edges when she shakes her head.

"I mean, yeah. You've already got mine."

And it's the truth, the exhausted truth at the heart of their years of bonding and bickering and living. Ivor leaving, Soren lying, (almost) all of them selling their souls for fame and glory- it's stripped back each and every layer of Magnus and his usual defenses. What's the point in denying it, when they're this close to losing whatever it is they've got?

"...you're sappy, tonight."

"'m tired." Tired of what? Winning nothing, losing everything? Because that's what's happened. Sure, technically they've got far more now than they ever could've had before, at the price of them getting all the credit for something they never did. It's an empty, shallow victory that burns in his throat and his chest. It came at the price of losing Ivor. Losing their snarky healer, their friend who was perhaps the most excited for their adventure and the most carefully prepared, hurts them as a team and cuts to the heart of who they are as friends.

Who they were as friends might be a better way to put it.

(It came at the price of all their friendships, really, who they are- who they used to be.

Gabe's been in a daze- who isn’t?- but he's stiffer too, formal in a way Magnus's fellow trouble maker never is. This new Gabriel’s somewhere between a warrior and a knight. The crowd loves him. Magnus just feels sicker listening to him, his speeches and his new habit of saying no to everything fun. Gabriel's chivalrous, sure, but he's also Magnus's friend, not this stressed out hollow shell with an empty smile and dramatic speeches for crowds spun from nothing but despair and grief.

It turns out that is who he is, now.

And if Gabe's in a daze, there's no real way to describe what's going on with Soren. Soren had his head in the clouds to start with. He’s gotten, forced, everything he’s ever wanted, except Ivor isn’t here to drag him from his room into the open. Everything they dreamed of is at their feet, minus the integrity. Soren, already running on no sleep and manic energy during that uneasy time after the Dragon was 'defeated' but before Ivor left, has shut himself away almost entirely.

Can't disappoint or lie to people you don't see or talk to.

Ellie too, because of course she squirreled herself away, because she and Soren are two sides of the same coin the way she and Ivor are- were. It’s worked just as well for her as it does for him. Even without Magnus's interference, she's been doing little more than slipping up and burning her own fingers on her machines. She stares out windows and mumbles nothing to an empty room. She'd still be in that room if Magnus hadn't managed to coax her onto the roof like this, the promise of familiar company better than hanging out with those in the camp under them.

There are other engineers here to talk to, now, but what's the point?

Magnus himself, well... he's partied, he's feasted, and he's hated himself all the more for it. He chose this over defending Ivor, he was the first to follow Soren’s lead and pick their pretty lie over the rusted truth. Magnus is the one who couldn’t even look Ivor in the eye. He'd like to think he's at least trying to have fun, being truer to himself that Gabriel is, but that doesn't mean he isn't sickened by every fake grin and overblown guffaw, every bit of fun at the unsuspecting crowd’s expense. It’s his worst prank yet.

They're coping, maybe, but it ain't healthy. None of this is.)

Ellegaard sighs, a curled lock of hair brushing against her cheek as the wind toys with it, the rest held back only by her goggles, and she’s so strikingly beautiful it hurts.

It just ain’t fair.

Still, she also sounds achingly drained, circles under her eyes as bold as he’s ever seen them.

"...so am I."

Nowhere to take the conversation from that, is there? That's what it all comes down to.

They’re washed up before they could ever really begin.

And if the conversation can't continue, then it's time to move things along before they do end up breaking out the alcohol. Magnus pushes himself to his feet with energy he doesn't have, stretching his arms above his head before cracking his neck the way Ellie usually hates.

The breeze picked up at some point, though hell if he knows when, and the stone roof's cold enough to have leeched all the warmth from his hands and his ass.

"Great. We might as well crash- I'm sick of staring at the big ol' empty."

This is, of course, Ellegaard's cue to lecture him on how beautifully vast and amazingly full space is, how it's hardly empty and that the hollowest space to crack jokes about is in his head.

She doesn't, but she does smile.

It's weak, but it's the first smile in at least a week that hasn't looked totally plastic.

On top of that, she hands him the mask he'd almost left on the roof, an easy victim for the breeze, and he's hardly thinking when he takes it in a balled up fist as they both slip back through the window they came onto the roof from.

(Not that he hasn’t been thinking about replacing this mask. 

It’s almost half stitches now, the victim of all the repairs it’s needed since he first made it, back when they started out their training and the world looked so beautifully big and unknown.

...his later stitches are much better than the first few repairs, on account of Ivor showing him neater stitches and making Magnus practice them. 

They work for skin and cloth, as it turns out.

That might be a little more important now, since they’re down a healer and Ivor was the one who kept inventory of the healing potions.)

The walk through the halls is almost peaceful, on account of it being short and the others hiding in their own rooms or making speeches outside or chasing after Endermen in an empty End or whatever they’re each doing (because whatever Soren and Gabriel are doing, they’re doing it alone and Magnus knows it), and Ellegaard’s shoulders are relaxed like they haven’t been in over a month.

So far, so decent.

He's no Ivor, but Magnus is still doing his best to fill in as the glue.

It's working better than he figured it would; griefers aren't meant to be the glue of anything, never mind horribly fractured friend groups.

And, hell, while he's patting his back for a job well done, Magnus'll take an extra second to preen about how surprisingly easy it was to get Ellie to crash in his room instead of hers, and, heck, he's even proud (and sad and confused and exhausted) about how his room is actually the healthier choice.

Going from the window to his room means they don’t pass Ivor’s door.

(The long shadows cast by the torches can’t be helped, gnarled into shapes that are almost human and hauntingly familiar against the stone bricks, fire and shadows alike wavering as the two of them walk by.)

In Magnus’s room, there aren't any machines for her to tinker with, none out in the open, anyway, to be obsessed over like there are in hers.

She can’t keep herself up all night doing nothing.

There aren't any pipes or wires to fuss over like her next invention will prove Ivor wrong or bring him back.

He's not even dead -probably- and it feels like they've lowered the casket already.

(Ivor's resourceful, practical, skilled, and alone. He can take care of himself just fine, fend for himself as he does who knows what with the treasures he bargained for, but he shouldn't have to.

None of them should.

Magnus thinks of an exhausted Ivor, holed up in a dirt hut somewhere or already dead in a ditch, and he shifts the arm around Ellie’s shoulders so it’s closer to a squeeze.

If he's got any say in this, cowardly as he is and weak-willed as he's been shown to be, it won't happen to the rest of them, drift apart as they may. He wants to be there for them, in this twisted lie they’ve trapped themselves in, be available even when he's busy with whatever chaos he and his followers cobble together.

Gods, he has followers now, fans who think the world of him.

He's gonna be sick.)

Magnus's armor is already kicked into a forgotten corner, left alone unless he's making an appearance for 'the public' that seemed to spring up overnight.

It’s his clumsiest way at trying to fix what he helped shatter. It hasn’t helped much; the others wear their armor more than ever and always around him, Ellegaard only taking hers off now to chuck it on top of his.

Falling into bed is easy, something from Before that isn't instantly painful or miserable, and so's peppering each other with kisses as they settle under the covers. It's easy to slip into the familiar position, her arms wrapped around him and her chin on his shoulder.

(Hey, it's not just because he's short.

Magnus is the damned best little spoon there's ever been.)

Ellie goes a step further than just silently settling into what's familiar, though, whispering in a voice that isn't pained as he cranes his neck to kiss her cheek.

"Thanks for holding onto my heart."

Fat lot of good it's doing either of them, with how much hers still hurts and how much it can still be hurt, but the thought has to count for something. She's kind enough to do the same for him.

"Yeah, well, don't go throwing mine around."

It means a lot, given how easy it ultimately was for them to chuck Ivor's away and turn their backs on him. Magnus still can't really believe that happened, or that anybody else in their group would be willing to do that to him, never mind brilliant Ellie- but here they are, short a healer, short a friend, and short on all the trust they'd had in spades before they entered the End, and Magnus would be a fool to not take the blame for being one of the first to toss all that. Why wouldn’t they turn on him after how quickly he turned on Ivor?

There's a spiky, prickly paranoia nestled in the back of his mind that wasn't there before, but he still trusts Ellegaard, and he means it when he silently promises himself he won't throw away whatever trust she's got left in him.

And for a minute, as they sink into sleep, it almost feels alright.

They're both stubborn people, and they've never been the types to give up on a challenge, even one that aches.

[cumbersomelift]

Fire and Brimstone

A few years ago, a close friend of mine came out to their parents as a non-Christian. Distressed by their child's infidelity, they said that if they had known this would happen then they would have never had kids in the first place. In effect, things would have been better if they were never born. 

That’s a cruel thing to say to a child, but it’s also refreshingly honest. I think if more of us took the fundamentalist doctrine of hell seriously, then conversations like this would be more common. These feelings might surface for others. Fundamentalism of any kind can create the circumstances that lead kind and gentle people say remarkably harsh things. 

Damnation complicates interfaith relationships because it raises the stakes in a way that's rarely acknowledged. For me, it also dredges up a series of experiences I had as a child preoccupied with the fear of hell. I've since discovered that this is not uncommon. So before I talk about the doctrine as a barrier to relationships, I wanted to share a few experiences of why I see efforts to internalize the doctrine of hell in children as emotionally manipulative at best and abusive at worst.

Growing Up Damned

Growing up in a fundamentalist tradition, I thought about hell a lot. Of course, I was taught about hell a lot. I imagined it as an active, eternal torment and in long family car rides I wondered what it would even look like to inflict that kind of pain. I pictured immersion in lava pools, splinters under fingernails, hooks in one's skin, and being eaten alive by rats. I shuddered at these ideas. I also cried a lot. For a significant portion of my childhood, I believed I was nearly or definitely damned. Based on my 4th grader's interpretation of Hebrews 6:6 and an offhand comment by the Bible school teacher, I thought my joke delivered in a sugar rush at bible class was "mocking the holy spirit" - which I interpreted to be the unforgivable sin. I remember sobbing into my pillow and quietly weeping hymns that night just in case God was still listening. 

Now that I'm older - and out of the church - some friends have shared similar experiences. Their damnation came from things like muttering "godammit" or was evidenced by their failure to speak in tongues. Some described recurring nightmares and even panic attacks that were triggered by fire and brimstone sermons. Many of the object lessons I received on hell are still burned in my memory. 

A high school friend from a sister church recounted one object lesson about hell that she found especially devastating. One time at Bible camp, about half of the campers hiked to a hilltop for the nightly sermon only to find that many of their friends were missing. She took a seat among the empty chairs as the preacher welcomed them to heaven, and began preaching from Matthew 7 & 25. He read, "small is the gate and narrow is the way that leads to life and only few will find it" and "[the unsaved] will go away to eternal punishment, but the righteous to eternal life." At that moment, she began to hear her friends calling her name through the trees from the bottom of the hill. They, the unsaved, were begging her to come back. To save them.

I remember listening to a leader in my old church as he explained how the gospel is like a cure for cancer. "Imagine that everyone in your school is dying of cancer, and you have the cure in your backpack. Are you going to share it with them, or keep it to yourself? How selfish must a person be to withhold that from those that need it most?" I agreed and felt a fresh burden of guilt - how many people haven't I told? How many are unsaved from my cowardice and apathy?

Parents sometimes complained about these  lessons and as a teenager I didn’t understand that. If we really believed these are the terms of existence shouldn’t be we made fully aware of their gravity? 

I've often wondered if, as kids, we took the idea of damnation more seriously than our parents did. In an episode of The Life After, a therapist joins the hosts to talk about internalized fundamentalism and undoing what some call religious trauma syndrome. One host offers an explanation for why children (now millennials in their 20s-30s) experienced this growing up:

“This is something very interesting that I have not heard a lot of commentary on, but I’m really interested in exploring: A big part of the reason that our generation experienced so much religious trauma is that our parents' generation more or less chose Christianity, and our generation was born into it. So for us, growing up, it was our entire reality. Whereas for our parents, it was an augmentation to the reality they already knew. They were able to pick and choose what they let in, whereas we didn’t have a choice. That’s part of the gap. That’s why we can’t communicate [about the impact of our religious upbringing].”

The doctrine of hell was a defining aspect of my faith by design. While I personally think it's a stretch to call these experiences religious trauma or spiritual abuse, I'm troubled that emotionally manipulating teenagers this way is normalized -- even systematized -- in so many traditions.

 Why Hell Matters for a Nonbeliever 

I became a Christian universalist at 17 - even as a Christian, I thought to torture nonbelievers for their nonbelief was morally indefensible. But even after leaving the faith entirely, that fundamentalist doctrine has caused me more pain than any other. It also makes interfaith relationships much trickier to navigate. 

One reason for this is that I find myself preoccupied by its normalcy. In fact, I'm comfortable saying that my damnation is the primary lens through which I view the church. Every steeple, every cross on the highway, and every bible verse on Facebook is a reminder that a considerable portion people in this country would not object to my eternal suffering as long as it's at the hands of the right deity. That number includes many family members and people I grew up with. Maybe you can see why that’s a little preoccupying.

This means that my damnation often becomes the unshakeable backdrop to any relationship that I have with a Christian person. Even when they’re not thinking about it, I almost certainly am - and I want to know what they're thinking about it. There's not a clear way to introduce that into a conversation, but I'm always curious. I mean, maybe I want to be friends, but it's awkward if you think your God will call for my torture in fifty years. In many cases, there’s no aspect of faith that I want to engage believers on more than this point exactly. I rarely do, because it's impolite to ask that kind of question, and when the conversation arrives I often find myself ill-prepared to engage. 

This is because I find communicating the relational toll of this dynamic to be almost impossible. Asking someone to take my perspective is hard because, for one, there is a lack of any secular analogue. In that past, I've asked whether it would change our relationship if I believed that eating animals for food was a sin. (I'm a vegetarian.) Would it change anything if I believed that, if you don't also become a vegetarian, you will be reincarnated as an animal that's needlessly slaughtered forever? That if you stop eating meat now, you can save yourself this fate, but that I'm afraid your late omnivorous relatives are already in anguish for their crimes? Of course I don’t want that for them, and it’s sad but it’s true. That I don't make the rules, but also the rules are fair? Maybe our dinner parties would be a little more awkward. Maybe you wouldn't let me around your kids. Or invite me to dinner at all. You can see that our interactions might be a little strained, and you might have some questions about what this means for our relationship.

Why Hell Matters for Believers

The doctrine of hell also impacts Christians who have relationships with nonbelievers. It raises the stakes for any Christians willing to have interfaith relationships by casting nonbelievers as both a soul that’s in danger and a spiritual threat. This is why I've seen preachers tell new Christians not to befriend nonbelievers, and why I've had parents tell their Christian kids to stop hanging out with me. I think this advice is hateful and misguided, but more than anything it’s self-preserving and intuitively follows from the doctrine of damnation. Moreover, it puts many of the necessary conversations out of reach. 

The mathematician Blaise Pascal invented a tactic of evangelism that won souls by threatening them with Hell. (He was also a lot of fun at parties.) It’s called Pascal’s wager, and it goes something like this: “If you’re an atheist then you might as well be a Christian, because if you’re right then you’ll die and be dead, but if you’re wrong then you’ll die and be damned. So, just be a Christian. Why roll the dice?” It's about as effective for evangelism as it is unethical. But it's an excellent retention technique for those already in the pew. If you're a Christian already persuaded of the stakes, it's a paralyzing reminder about the cost of defecting. 

When I was a Christian, I found the risk of dissuasion utterly terrifying. I read up on apologetics mostly to reassure myself that I could parry every objection with my faith intact if any atheist came looking for a fight. But when the atheist is a loved one, the stakes get even higher. It’s not enough to defend myself anymore. I have to bring that person back to the fold before they're calling my name from the bottom of the hill. So many believers decide to withdraw altogether. By taking a step back, they can at least say it's in God's hands. But the relationship is too risky to pursue.

My point here is not to say that the doctrine of damnation is incorrect -- though I obviously think that. My point is to say that it’s damaging. A judgment about whether another person’s life stance makes them worthy of suffering will matter for that relationship, and in the end that judgment is what the doctrine is about. It’s especially preoccupying for the deconverted when we assume that Christians take the belief as seriously as we did when we internalized it in childhood. 

Addressing that assumption requires a conversation where we may find ourselves at an impasse: the doctrine of damnation is both preoccupying to nonbelievers and immobilizing to believers. I can't say that every nonbeliever wants to have this conversation or that every believer is so reticent. What I can say is that on three different instances, I have been contacted by an old friend who I thought was just catching up, only to discover they were enlisted by a concerned believer to "give me a nudge in the right direction." Presumably feeling ill-equipped to do this themselves, my family recruited someone with ministerial experience. I found myself heartbroken, not only by the pretense of reunion, but because I desperately wanted to have that conversation - not with a minister but with those closest to me. Not to interrogate or dissuade them, but to unpack the challenges that I'm writing about now. 

Even as I'm attempting to acknowledge the pain on both sides of this discussion, I'm still blinded by my indignation about it. (I’m shaking as I type this.) Personally, I've found it a relief to openly ask Christians about this in a way that is as nonjudgmental as I can muster. Taking an exploratory posture toward these attitudes has at least put my wandering mind at ease and is a big part of why I feel less preoccupied with all of this than in years past. That's required self-restraint on my part and interpersonal courage on theirs. Relationships have grown as a result, and I consider myself extremely lucky for the opportunity to have them. I don’t know if it’s something talk through and be done with, but even if the questions may never be entirely resolved it’s a conversation worth having.