Religion for Atheists - Alain de Botton, Apraksia
In the “Education” chapter of Religion for Atheists, Alain de Botton presents a compelling critique of modern secular education and contrasts it with the pedagogical wisdom embedded in religious traditions. He does not advocate a return to faith but instead calls for a reimagining of how we educate individuals, not merely to think, but to live wisely and well.
At the heart of de Botton’s argument lies a simple yet profound observation: religions understand that education is not just about information, but transformation. Religious instruction aims not only to impart knowledge but to shape character, guide conduct, and instil a moral vision. In contrast, secular education—particularly in modern universities—tends to prioritise analytical skills and intellectual rigour while often ignoring questions of how to live, how to relate to others, and how to find meaning.
De Botton argues that universities have become too focused on academic detachment. Subjects such as literature, history, and philosophy are taught with an emphasis on neutrality and distance, avoiding personal application or moral engagement. A novel may be studied for its narrative structure, a philosophical treatise for its internal logic, but rarely are these works used as tools for guiding everyday dilemmas or nurturing the emotional and ethical development of the student.
Religious traditions, by contrast, treat their sacred texts and teachings as living resources for personal growth. Sermons, prayers, parables, and commentaries are delivered with the explicit purpose of shaping values, reinforcing virtues, and reminding adherents of what truly matters. For instance, a Buddhist teaching is not explored merely for its philosophical elegance—it is meant to be rehearsed, internalised, and lived. The emphasis is on repetition, emotional resonance, and moral clarity—features that secular education often dismisses as didactic or naïve.
De Botton draws attention to the style and structure of religious teaching, which recognises the limitations of the human mind: that we forget easily (Apraksia), that we are moved more by stories and symbols than by abstract reasoning, and that learning must be ongoing and emotionally engaging. Religions repeat lessons not because followers are unintelligent, but because they understand that wisdom needs reinforcement.
He also criticises the secular fear of moralising, which has led to a reluctance to teach values directly. In the name of open-mindedness and critical thinking, educators often avoid promoting any particular vision of the good life. But de Botton argues that this avoidance creates a vacuum, in which students are left without meaningful guidance about how to navigate relationships, success, failure, suffering, or death.
In response, he proposes a reimagining of education that borrows from religion's pragmatic and therapeutic goals. Literature classes, for instance, could be structured not just to analyse texts, but to help students reflect on their own struggles with love, envy, pride, or despair. Philosophy could be taught not only as an academic exercise, but as a toolkit for living. Lectures could be more like sermons, not in tone, but in intent: designed to comfort, inspire, and provoke moral reflection.
