I just read the NYT article about the stained glass ceiling for women in the church, and I was especially struck by this comment:

…in the marketplace of ideas and values, men matter most and…by definition, women have to take a back seat…

Why do men matter most in the marketplace of ideas?
To offer some background on how I think about this question – my Dad was an ordained minister, and my Mom worked for the church for most of her working career. I know first hand what a thankless struggle it can be to dedicate your life to serving the church.

One of my strongest memories of my father relates to how proud he was to serve as a substitute minister for the “black church” in town. Now that I’m older and the post-civil-rights era has grown with me, I find myself  wondering why there wasn’t a black minister available. And for that matter, I don’t recall ever seeing a black minister substitute at any of the “white” churches in town.

The older I get, the more I’m amazed by my father’s accomplishments. He was the son of a North Carolina farmer, but to study theology he learned Latin, Greek, Hebrew, German, and a little French. He had a second degree in music and later in life he taught computer science at a local community college.

My own interests are just as wide-ranging. I’m incurably addicted to ancient history and culture, particularly religion and philosophy. I don’t even consider money when it comes to making life decisions, and I care deeply about social justice. It seems like I was cut out to follow in my father’s footsteps.

However, I never considered studying theology or pursuing a career in the church. Why not?

I think, like many women, I weeded myself out early because I couldn’t envision myself in the role, and therefore I couldn’t imagine anyone else casting me in that role either. On the stage of cultural stereotypes, I was not a “good fit.”

What is that role that so many men strive for, and so many women dismiss for themselves? It’s the role of the spiritual authority.

One of the dominant themes of world history is the perpetual effort of ambitious empires to convert their neighbors. Why was conversion so important? Shared criteria for truth and justice fostered cultural stability and a sense of common interest. But, more importantly, empire was the center of spiritual authority. The agent’s of official religion were not only the “thought leaders” of their time, they had the right of reprimand. They rode in judgment over the spiritual outlook and behavior of others. The great religions of the Book were also the great religions of the Bureaucracy. The primary instrument of spiritual authority is rankism, which is why the history of all churches is rife with every kind of corruption.

While I didn’t study theology, I did get a taste of spiritual authority as a form of masculinity while I was in graduate school. While I try not to make too many generalizations about gender, it did seem to me that men were attracted to forms of analysis that enabled them to transcend all arguments and particularist “trivia.” They equated transcendant rhetoric with spiritual authority (which seems to be for men an adequate substitute for physical/material power). In some classes, I could swear I could hear the clash as the male students projected frenetic transcend, transcend, transcend mindwaves at each other.

This is the secret driving force behind a lot of the petty politics of academia. In the battle for spiritual authority, There Can Be Only One. No matter how many theories academics spout about race, sex, age, and disability – any divergence from the (white male) stereotype of spiritual authority means that in the end you will be defering to those transcend guys.

The rankism that occurs in the workplace is crude in comparison, but it seems more important because people’s livelihoods are at stake. To an unemployed single mother, academic wars seem as irrelevant and stupid as a virtual melee in World of Warcraft or a wheel war on Wikipedia. However, that’s where the all important positions of spiritual authority are decided. The people with spiritual authority require deference, tell everyone else what to do, and command astronomical consulting fees.

Lately, PR folk have been fond of the idea that markets are conversations. This implies a level playing field where people negotiate as equals and make fair exchanges. However, the spiritual authority hijacks the market. The spiritual authority stands on a platform and preaches to the masses. Spiritual authority is one (man’s) vision imposed on all others, winning pre-eminence through guile, mass mobilization. and acts of verbal violence. The spiritual authority dictates reality, recording their vision on the world as if people were blank tapes. Perhaps spiritual authority does win in the marketplace of ideas and values, but perhaps we should ask ourselves why there should be a marketplace at all. And if there is a market, doesn’t a diverse world imply niche markets of ideas instead of some beady-eyed guy shouting transcend, transcend, transcend!

My new favorite quote is by Blake:

…he would do good to others must do it in Minute Particulars; General Good is the plea of the Hypocrite and the Scoundrel.

I know it’s a cliche to say that women a more immanent and relational than men – and I’m the first one to chalk this up to nurture rather than nature. However, I think this is, for the time being, the  basic truth of the Stained Glass Ceiling. Women don’t want to be spiritual authorities. They don’t see themselves as spiritual authorities. Women want to help people, and it doesn’t really help people to transcend over them or subject them to your vision. At some point we, as a community of citizens, have to decide whether we want to devote our resources to promoting a few spiritual authorities or cultivating every member of the human community as a worthwhile individual, each with the potential for boundless contribution.