The following is a transcript of remarks given on June 30 at the American Enterprise Institute’s Book Launch for Robert P. George’s new volume, Seeking the Truth and Speaking the Truth.
I’m deeply honored to be part of this conversation marking the release of Robert George’s Seeking Truth and Speaking Truth. This book, as you would expect, is rigorous, courageous, and clarifying. But what makes it exceptional is that it is also hopeful. It reminds us that we can be truth-seekers who are not afraid—and even better, not angry.
In that spirit, I want to offer three brief episodes from my own work in Christian ethics that, I believe, embody the essence of this book’s central convictions: first, that reason and faith are not enemies; second, that truth-seeking can foster friendship and de-polarize our public discourse; and third, that clarity in truth-seeking is an act of charity.
Reason and Religion in Public Debate
Earlier in 2024, after the Alabama Supreme Court ruling on frozen embryos, I was invited to appear on a popular morning program hosted by Vox. The setup was predictable. The hosts tried to pin me as the “religious conservative” who brought his private faith into a public debate. They wanted to confine the conversation to a discussion between sectarian doctrine and enlightened secular neutrality.
But I wasn’t there merely as a theologian. Though I began by citing Genesis’ beliefs about the human person bearing God’s image, I made the case that every human being was once a human embryo. You were. I was. And if we were the same kind of being then that we are now—if nature and identity remain continuous—then justice demands we treat the embryo as one of us—a fellow human being. Suspending development at an early stage doesn’t render someone a non-person; it makes them a victim of injustice. The philosophical point was simple but unanswerable: if personhood depends on capacity or consciousness, we all pass in and out of it. If it depends on nature, then it begins at the beginning. The hosts were, as you might expect, a little taken aback that I was not there only to quote Bible verses.
That moment taught me what Robby George has long modeled: when you speak the truth with precision and calm conviction, the narrative that “religion and public discourse” are unbridgeable domains breaks down because faith and reason are, ultimately, mutually reinforcing allies. Reason, when allied with revealed truth, is disruptive—and deeply humane.
Joyful Truth-Seeking and Unlikely Friendships
The second story is quieter but equally important. I have a relatively new friendship with a law professor at the University of Louisville. He is, by every external marker, my ideological opposite: progressive, secular, and deeply engaged in causes I theologically and morally reject. But we’re friends—not because we agree, but because we both want to understand what’s true. We’ve debated abortion, gender identity, religious liberty, you name it—but we’ve done so with respect and curiosity.
This book reminds us that we need not fear disagreement if we are committed to joyful truth-seeking. When truth is our goal, not just victory for victory’s sake, then disagreement becomes an opportunity, not a threat. Defensiveness and reflexive angst give way to confidence in one’s grasp of truth. And when you love truth more than applause and you love the truth more than you hate its aggressor, you can make unlikely friendships—and keep your soul intact.
In the “Age of Feelings” that Robby talks about, where disagreement is cast as harm and argument is read as aggression, Seeking Truth and Speaking Truth dares to say: seek truth anyway. It’s the only way to preserve a humane civilization.
Clarity as Charity
Finally, a few weeks ago at the Southern Baptist Convention, I was interviewed by a transgender-identified journalist. I knew that any misstep could be captured and used against me. But instead of slogans or defensiveness, I said something I meant deeply: that the conflict over transgenderism is not a clash of hate versus love. It is a debate between two rival visions of human nature.
I told the journalist that the deepest divide isn’t firstly political—it’s anthropological. Is the body meaningful or malleable? Are we created or constructed? The disagreement is profound, but it’s not a matter of personal animus. I wasn’t there to score points. I was there to speak clearly, because precision is a form of respect. We owe people the dignity of serious engagement. This journalist, though likely strongly disagreeing with my views, seemed generally open and disarmed by the fact that complex debates in society should not be immediately coded as “Left versus Right,” but instead excavated to a deeper layer: over anthropological conflicts that should play out through reasoned debate.
This book insists on exactly that kind of clarity. In a cultural moment clouded by euphemism and manipulated by therapeutic categories, Robert George calls us back to the rigors of truth: the truth about the body, the truth about marriage, the truth about law, liberty, and reason.
In closing, let me say this: Seeking Truth and Speaking Truth is not just a title; it’s a summons. In an age that prizes sentiment over substance and hashtags over arguments, this book is a clarion call for courage tethered to reason, and for conviction anchored in love of truth. I’m grateful for how it affirms and sharpens my own vocation as a Christian ethicist: not to win culture wars, but to bear faithful, reasoned, hopeful witness.
Thank you.
