The NFL Doesn’t Need to Ref Its Players’ Religious Views

By Charles C. W. Cooke

Monday, May 20, 2024

 

Over the weekend, Rich Lowry made a solid case that Harrison’s Butker’s now-infamous address to the graduates of Benedictine College was not, in fact, worthy of the controversy into which it has subsequently been bent. I agree with this contention, just as I agree with Samantha Lehman’s observation that, while the speech has by now been heard by anyone who wished to hear it, its intended audience was not the world and his dog, but the students to whom it was given. As is my wont, however, I’d like to step back from these details for a moment and make a more foundational inquiry of Butker’s detractors: What if, instead of having expressed a perfectly acceptable view in front of a narrow audience, Butker had ranged way out of the mainstream on a national television show? Then what?

 

That so many of Butker’s complainants have miscast his words matters because the truth matters — or ought to. Nevertheless, I am rendered profoundly uneasy by the unspoken implication of this defense, which is that Butker’s speech was acceptable because Butker’s speech was conventional. Suppose that, instead of offering up an allocation that was religiously infused but within the mainstream, Butker had expressed a collection of views that were indisputably unusual? Suppose that he were Amish. Hell, suppose that he were a member of some preposterous cult whose followers believes that all American women are actually repurposed panini toasters. Are we to presume that, in those cases, the disavowals that were offered up by the NFL and by the leaders of Kansas City would have been appropriate? I would argue: No.

 

Responding to the outcry, the NFL’s “chief diversity and inclusion officer,” Jonathan Beane, issued a statement in which he insisted that Butker’s “views are not those of the NFL as an organization.” Okay. And that matters why? Insofar as “the NFL as an organization” can meaningfully possess a set of unified “views,” it is inevitable that those “views” will not line up neatly with those held by every player and fan of the game. Did anyone expect otherwise? “The NFL,” Beane continued, “is steadfast in our commitment to inclusion, which only makes our league stronger.” But, unless one redefines the word “inclusion” to mean something completely different than it has meant for the entire history of the English language, this is abject nonsense. Used properly, “inclusion” . . . “includes” Harrison Butker. There can be no virtue in the notion if it does not. That is what inclusion is for. It is its purpose, its function, its mission. Per his title, Jonathan Beane’s role at the NFL is to foster and promote “diversity and inclusion.” What, I must wonder, does he think that means in practice?

 

The core purpose of the United States is to create an environment in which people who have radically different views from one another can coexist peacefully. It is, of course, true that many of the religious and social views that are held by America’s citizenry are incompatible with one another, sometimes dramatically so. If the Evangelicals are right, the Muslims are wrong, and vice versa — and not, you will note, about esoteric or trifling matters, but about nothing less than the fate of one’s eternal soul. That, nevertheless, the operating principle of this country is to invite everyone to speak and proselytize as he wishes while expecting all to get along at the cookout is one of the greatest triumphs in human history.

 

The NFL is not the United States. But if it is to talk of “diversity” and “inclusion” and making the league “stronger,” as it does, then it ought to live up to those ideals. Harrison Butker is one of 1,696 active players in the league. In a free country, there is no reason whatsoever that his particular ensemble of religious opinions needs to be superintended or reviewed or disavowed. Among the remaining 1,695 active players in the NFL, there no doubt exists all manner of different worldviews, many of which would seem silly to a majority of voters in this country. Statistically speaking, some players will be Democrats, some will be Republicans; some will be religious, some will be atheists; some will be pro-life, some will be pro-choice; some will like guns, some will want them banned; and some of them, yes, will be total weirdos. This does not matter in the slightest. Like Harrison Butker, they’re athletes, not politicians — and this is America, for goodness’ sake.