A model academic conversation about Christian transformation

What does it mean to be human? How might a Christian address this question? How does Christian formation happen and what are its moral implications?  

This week at the theology reading group we are discussing a book that wrestles with these questions.

Becoming Whole and Holy: An Integrative Conversation about Christian Formation, by Jeannine K. Brown, Carla M. Dahl, and Wyndy Corbin Reuschling

The three authors are all seminary professors in the USA. They present a conversation drawing on their respective academic disciplines: social science, biblical studies/hermeneutics, and ethics.

The "method" used is "offer, receive, and integrate." Specifically, each author presents two chapters that give a perspective based on their discipline. This is followed by a chapter in which the two other authors respond, and then a three-way conversation about how their insights and perspectives might be integrated. 

In some ways, this book is (sadly) unique in that the tone is one of humble listening, mutual respect and appreciation, but with room for questioning and dissonance. I found the generosity of spirit refreshing. This has been facilitated by the authors being friends and professional colleagues for several decades.

There are many ideas in the book I found refreshing, helpful, and resonated with.

Multi-disciplinarity. There is a serious and sincere attempt to obtain a multi-faceted perspective by seriously engaging with other disciplines, including acknowledging the limitations of each discipline. Christians need not be afraid of the social sciences.

Rich theology. Several concepts are at the forefront. The Trinity is a model for the character of God and human relationality and particularity. Humanity is made in the image of God and this underscores human dignity, including the Other (those different from us). Personal holiness and wholeness mean participation in Christ and theosis (taking on the character of God). The Old Testament concept of shalom is the model for social wholeness and holiness.

Ethics matters. We live in a complex world of smartphones, sweatshops, marketing, wars, gross inequality, and refugees. How should then should communities of Christians live? Discerning answers requires ongoing prayer, study, debate, initiative, experiment, and reflection.

Context-sensitive. The authors repeatedly emphasise how hermeneutics is about being sensitive to differences (and similarities) between the original context of the different books in the Bible and the context of any reader today. They also wonder about how their own USA context influences their interpretation.

Beyond individualism. Holiness, wholeness, and formation are not just about individuals or something that can be achieved by isolated individuals. Rather, they all have communal dimensions. A Trinitarian perspective embraces the dialectic of relatedness and distinction. Christians need "to navigate between the extremes of living the narrative of "humans as autonomous, rugged individuals" and humans as "little more than social constructs."" (page 146). This resonates with John Wesley who said “The gospel of Christ knows of no religion but social; no holiness but social holiness”.

Embodiment. The Christian life is not just "spiritual". Holiness "has an important visible, bodily dimension" highlighted in the Incarnation: God dwelt in a human body. We worship and serve God with head, hearts, and hands.

Hospitality. This is highlighted as "a marker of holiness and wholeness" (pages 47-51).  "Hospitality is at the heart of the Christian life." Hospitality is not about entertainment, luxury, or fancy food and wine. It is a disposition that creates space for the other, particularly those who society keeps on the margins.

Later, I hope to discuss a few weaknesses of the book.

Living out the Gospel while immersed in a neighbourhood in a secular city

Last week at the theology reading group we discussed Forming Christian Communities in a Secular Age: Recovering Humility and Hope by Tim Dickau.

Three narratives are inter-weaved throughout the book: the personal, the congregational, and the socio-structural. Dickau describes his recent recovery from burnout and alcohol abuse after three decades as pastor of Grandview Church in Vancouver, Canada. During this time the church moved from a declining "commuter" church to a vibrant and creative community that was engaged with and in solidarity with its local neighbourhood. This led to significant relationships with marginalised neighbours, including the homeless, refugees, and the poor. In collaboration with local community organisations, the church birthed several social enterprises, including converting the church parking lot into a low-income housing project. 

The more theoretical dimension of the book is the analysis of the social secular character of large cities in the Western world. Here there is substantial engagement with the philosopher Charles Taylor and his books, This Secular Age (2007) and Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity (1989). Dickau also engages with the theologians William Cavanaugh and Willie James Jennings.

With regard to secularism, it is important to be clear on terminology. Taylor considers three distinct forms of secularism, focusing on the third form.

Moreover, both belief and non-belief have become optional, contested, and pressured so that believers and non-believers alike are “fragilized,” where expressions of both belief and unbelief are regularly challenged and therefore not as

certain (20–27). In this new age, we all live with “cross-pressures”

(15), where any believer, atheist, or anything in-between will be challenged by sensible people who think differently

Taylor defines the social imaginary as “. . . the way ordinary people imagine their social surroundings, and this is often not expressed in theoretical terms, it is carried in images, stories, and legends.” (172).

The social imaginary for this secular age is an immanent frame that by assumption precludes any role for transcendence. Dickau helpfully calls this "functional atheism," suggesting that today many clergy and church members operate within a framework where everything is framed, even if subconsciously, in terms of human action. This is reflected in church "business" meetings, strategic plans, policies and procedures that are strikingly similar to those of modern business corporations. 

I greatly appreciate this book. Dickau embodies honesty and humility. It is written by someone who has spent decades in the trenches and does not shy away from the complexity and messiness of life, ministry, mission, community, politics, and relationships. Dickau is able to weave the three narratives (personal, communal, socio-structural) together with some synergy, as each one increases the credibility of the others.

I found three ideas in the book personally challenging. The greatest challenge was realising the extent that which I operate in an immanent frame. Too often I am a functional atheist.

The discussions about racism draw on the writing of Willie Jennings and Grandview's engagement with First Nations people issues locally and nationally. I need to wrestle with this issue more.

Dickau advocates a commitment to place, i.e., a local neighbourhood. This stability is counter-cultural and necessary for lasting change. Will I make such a commitment? My wife and I are aiming for that through our involvement with Village Mosaix, as part of Village Church in Brisbane.

Here are some specific things that I appreciate about the book.

a. Dickau's honesty and vulnerability could be a wake-up call for many church leaders. Many tend to "workaholism" and some congregations enable this. These issues resonate with those identified by Pete Scazzero in Emotionally Healthy Church. 

b. The descriptions of Grandview activities provide concrete models that may inspire other churches to emulate, provided there is sufficient adaptation to local context. Dickau stresses this latter point. I was inspired by the account of how the activities of Kinbrace in refugee advocacy did not just help some in the local neighbourhood but eventually led to changes in Canadian government policies and procedures.

c. Seeking the welfare of the city. Seek the common good. Dickau is inspired by Jeremiah 29. This goes against the natural tendency of churches to be like most human institutions and to be parochial and inward-looking. [Although I agree with the conclusion, I would like to see this concern with the common good, justified by some New Testament passages.]

d. Practical care for the marginalised.

e. Grandview fosters creativity. This is done by tapping into the energy, gifts, experience, and passions of the laity.

f. Respect for tradition without slavery to it. Grandview is a Baptist church, but was once characterised as "Bapto-Catholic". It does not appear to be constrained by narrow denominationalism.

g. Beyond an individualistic Gospel and mission. Confession, repentance, and action need to be at the individual, corporate (congregational), and systemic levels. This is integral mission. I appreciate this for two reasons. Foremost, this is how mission is presented in the Bible, from ancient Israel to the early church, as nicely documented by Chris Wright. Second, as a scientist who studies emergence in complex systems, I often argue that issues, whether mental health or poverty alleviation, must be addressed at multiple levels, from the individual to the societal.

Although there is much to admire about the book, here are a few reservations.

Is the book too Taylor-centric?

I am no expert on Taylor, having only read the potted version, How (not) to be secular by James K.A. Smith. I greatly admire Taylor, particularly because as a distinguished academic, A Secular Age, has created waves in the academy, particularly in the humanities and social sciences. Nevertheless, I have many questions and concerns about Taylor and the amount of authority he is given. Taylor is a philosopher, not a historian or a social scientist. I wonder whether the historical narrative is really as simple as he presents. Similarly, I wonder if secularisation is actually thicker, more complex, and diverse than Taylor presents, particularly when one considers multi-cultural neighbourhoods. As a Catholic, does Taylor lay too much "blame" on the Reformation for fostering secularism and destroying enchantment? 

Is Taylor wistful for a former age, such as Christendom? Does his work foment the desires of those who pine for an earlier age that actually may never have existed? Does it feed the fantasies of those who want to "Make America Great Again"?

Arguably, secularisation, in some of its forms, is not always bad. Sometimes maybe it is the best, albeit imperfect, solution to a complex problem for democracies in pluralistic societies. It has kept at bay religious wars, theocracies, and kept pseudo-sciences such as young-earth creationism and Vedic "science" out of public school systems.

Given these concerns is Taylor really essential to the arguments of the book? Could we get to the same point as Dickau, with regard to missiology and ecclesiology, by just going back to the radical teachings of Jesus and the radical lifestyle of the early church? In some ways, Dickau does head in this direction when he discusses the potential of the "new monasticism" movement.

A problematic identification of "the powers of this dark world"?

Two thousand years of church history might suggest that Christians are not good at cultural analysis, particularly with regard to identifying what elements of their current culture is a result of the work of God's Spirit, or of Satan, or of human rebellion, or the "spiritual forces of evil." Perhaps indicative of the lack of nuance is the three options presented by Reinhold Niebuhr in his highly influential Christ and Culture: Christ in Culture, Christ against Culture, and Christ above Culture.

Dickau identifies the following "powers of our secular age": individualism, consumerism, economic globalisation, racism, inequality, and the human-induced climate crisis.

I agree that all of these are important issues. I am very concerned about each and all can embody evil. But, I am nervous about having a completely negative characterisation of the first three "powers." Subtlety is needed. For example, consider globalisation. I agree that globalisation has had many negative consequences. But, one can argue that it has lifted hundreds of millions of people, especially in India and China, out of poverty. I do lament the corrosive effect of individualism on the West. However, it's opposite, communitarianism can also have negative effects. Consider a young Asian woman is living in the West. She may be positive about the individual freedom she has to change her religion, choose her spouse, and employment.

The Bible presents an ambivalent picture of money, sex, power, authority, freedom, knowledge, speech, and emotions. They are neither intrinsically good nor evil. Thus, it is reasonable to be ambivalent about culture and institutions, whether in science, technology, government, education, military, or business. Each can be a good gift from God that can be used to bless others. Each can also be distorted and twisted by sin (individual, corporate, and structural). They can then be used as instruments of violence, oppression, slavery, and idolatry.

Charles Ringma pointed out to our group that Karl Barth was ambivalent about the nation-state. Perhaps this is surprising because Barth experienced the nation-state in the evil form of Nazi Germany.

There is an essay "Karl Barth’s theological politics", by David Haddorf, that was published as a new introduction to Community, State and Church: Three Essays, by Karl Barth. Haddorf states.

Barth develops a political perspective based entirely upon God’s action in and through the revelation of the Word of God. His commitment to the word of God led him to be a dialectical thinker moving between absolute Yes and No, between absolute positive or negative views of the state, between absolute Christian claims of the legitimacy of the state and anarchial denial of legitimacy, between Marxist socialism and free-market capitalism, and between right-wing nationalism and left- wing revolutionary politics.

Similarly, I embrace a good-bad dialectic with regard to much that our complex world presents. Holding the concepts of Creation and Fall together presents a paradox. They must be held in tension. On the one hand, the created world is good. On the other hand, it is corrupted and “groans for redemption.” (Romans 8:19-22). This is a world of sin, death, disease, natural disasters, and of altruism. Common grace is everywhere. On the one hand, humans bear the image of God, including innate rationality, relationality, morality, and spirituality. On the other hand, this image has been marred by sin. Paul’s personal moral struggles (Romans 7:23) also reflect the human paradox. It requires great wisdom and discernment to correctly identify any specific human activity as a power aligned with the forces of darkness.

Unfortunately, hard copies of the book are only available in Canada. I do hope this will change soon as the book deserves a global readership. Electronic (Kindle) copies can be bought on Amazon.

To complement reading the book I recommend an interview with Dickau in a recent podcast episode.

Truth-telling, faith, and science

This week I had the opportunity to speak (virtually) at the Asian Theological Seminary (ATS) Theological Forum as part of a series on Faith and Truth-Telling in the Public Square.

My slides are here.

You can watch the video on Facebook.

Science, contemplation, theory, and theology: from Boyle to McLeish

 I really enjoyed watching the 2021 Boyle Lecture, given by Tom McLeish, "The Rediscovery of Contemplation Through Science."

A paper based on the lecture is here. I have extracted a few choice quotes below. 

McLeish suggests that there are four “wrong turns” concerning "science and religion" that occurred with the scientific revolution and the rise of a modernist worldview.

1. (1)  A turn from human contemplation of nature as subjects fully immersed in the world, toward an illusion of perfect objectivity.

2. (2)  A turn from the appreciation of imagination as a legitimate pathway to knowledge, in partnership with reason, to an elevation of reason alone.

3. (3)  A turn from science as a shared cultural experience, to a restricted, professional, and institutional expertise.

4. (4)  A profound misreading of the Book of Nature—that traditional metaphor of the natural world and our epistemological relation to it as “God’s Second Book.” 

5. If we are to understand science theologically, I will propose that we should rediscover how to read the world, not as prose, but as poetry.

He makes a subtle point drawing on his experience working as a theoretical physicist on soft matter. At this point in the video, he gives a physical illustration of this in terms of modeling polymers [molecules that are very long chains of atoms].

1. The glorious paradox is that by negotiating our entropic relationship with the world, by formally knowing less in this way, we can arrange to understand more.

McLeish has discussed the Old Testament book of Job extensively in his wonderful book, Faith and Wisdom in Science. Here he states

1. Job, like modern science, needs a re-orientation in his relationship to an apparently chaotic cosmos more than he needs anything else.

2. In the long question-form poem, Yahweh points Job to his co-creating imaginative task to reach behind the surface of the world, into the ice, out to the star-clusters, onward to light itself. It remains a great pity that mainstream scholarship has tended to interpret this most healing and affirmative of texts as a form of petty divine put-down.

3. The textual encounter of Job, where the Creator, a human image of that Creator, and created nature meet, feeds our task to fashion a theologically conceived framing of science. Surprisingly to those attuned to the old “natural theology,” this re-orientation is entirely opposite to that tradition. It urges us not to look on the natural world for signs of God, nor through it as a window onto some dim divine image, but to learn to look on nature with God’s eyes, aligning our servant gaze with, not at, the divine.  

My twelve rules for life

To many one of the surprising phenomena of the past five years has been the popularity (and animosity towards) Jordan Peterson, a Professor of Psychology at the University of Toronto, who has become a Youtube "celebrity", both for his lectures (some of which engage with the Bible) and his live interactions with his opponents on TV talk shows.  His book, Twelve Rules for Life: An Antidote to Chaos has sold five millions of copies. In some ways, Peterson has become a key figure in the "culture wars" in Western society. People either love him or loathe him. He is particularly loved by young single secular men who find that he has provided orientation and purpose (for better or worse) to their lives. The New York Times columnist, David Brooks, noted

My friend Tyler Cowen argues that Jordan Peterson is the most influential public intellectual in the Western world right now, and he has a point.

The purpose of this post is not for me to take sides in the debate about Peterson, rather it is to engage in an exercise that Peterson has stimulated others to do. Write down their own "rules for life", particularly those that they would recommend to younger people. Examples are Tyler Cowen's 12 rules, and Megan McArdle's.

At first, I did not see the point of me writing down my own 12 rules. Why not just say, "obey the Ten Commandments"? However, it was pointed out to me that the problem with that stance is that secular young people will not engage with such sentiments.  So, here are my "laws". I should explain the approximate criteria that I have tried to use in coming up with them. Their goal is to promote human flourishing, particularly for individuals facing the challenges and opportunities of the postmodern Western world. They are "exhortations" of things to think and do, not observations about the way that the world is. But, I would like to think that they are based on observations about the way that the world actually is. There is some overlap between the different rules.

 

1. Accept that life is not all about you

This may go against all your instincts, wishes, and what you have been told by parents, teachers, school counselors, and advertising. Being self-centred does not work. You need other people, both to function in this world and to have a meaningful life. This is why you need to observe the next law.

2. Cultivate and preserve relationships
They are central to everything in life. We need them to survive, to function, to prosper, and to flourish.

3. Listen and learn

Most of us like to air our opinions and be the centre of attention. But, we are very finite and have limited knowledge, understanding, and life experience. The only way we can address that is by taking the time and energy to listen attentively to others. Listening and conversation are arts. Express sympathy before solutions.

We need to listen not just for the words but the feelings behind the words. Then we need to respond not just at an intellectual level (particularly by presenting our "solutions" to other people's "problems").

4. Expect, respect, and learn from diversity

You are unique. No one else in the universe is like you. Your DNA, life experience, strengths, weaknesses, and personality are like no one else. Hence, don't expect other people to be just like you, try to make them like you, or marginalise them because they are different to you.

5. Don't let money determine everything

This world is obsessed with money: salaries, investments, purchases, economic growth, shopping, budgets, fundraising,... But money tends to skew priorities in the wrong direction, too often harms relationships, and leads to disappointments, whether you gain money or lose it.

6. Get a dog! 

Then you won't take yourself and life so seriously. You will have more fun. You can see my rules, unlike Peterson's, are all a bit too serious and not very funny. Just like me. A dog helps. Get one.

7. Accept that some things are more complex than you might think
The world is complex, and life is complex. That can be overwhelming, scary, and confusing. Too often we think understand things and are drawn to simplistic solutions to complex problems. [Elect this politician and the country will get better. The answer to drug addiction is .... ]. A lot of life is grey, not black and white. Accept nuance. 

8. Accept that some things are simpler than you might think

On the other hand, some of us have a tendency to make things very complicated, whether it is academic jargon, training programs, or bureaucratic procedures. We also may procrastinate about concrete action because we think we have to come up with the perfect strategy that addresses all the complexities. For example, on the one hand, managing people is complex. On the other hand, if you do just a few simple things: listen, show an interest in them as a person, and adjust their job to their strengths, you can be quite a successful manager.

9. Aim to live in reality, not in fantasy

We all wish that the world were a certain way; that it conformed to our view of it. It may be scary and disorienting to accept that it may not be like that. However, because we are so finite, we need to be open to the fact that we may be wrong, be willing to change our views, and how we live as we butt up against the way the world really is.

10. Practise forgiveness 

No one is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes, some big, some small. When we are wronged by someone, whether intentionally or not, our relationship may be at a crossroads. Too often, we are unwilling to forgive, even when an apology is offered. We destroy relationships and live in bitterness. Forgiveness is powerful and can heal us and our relationships.

11. Focus on your own shortcomings rather than those of others
Our natural tendency is to be blind to our own shortcomings, weaknesses, and failings, but to have a highly tuned sense of the failings of others. This hinders both personal growth and good relationships.

12. Consider Jesus

Arguably, he is the most influential person in human history. His teachings, life, death, and influence over the past two thousand years are worthy of serious study and engagement.

One may notice that perhaps the most common themes in my laws are those of humility and the importance of relationships.

I welcome comments on my rules.

Science and theology in different contexts

 How are science and theology related to one another? Given that all theology is formulated and discussed in some context, we should consider how attempts to explore the relationship between science and theology also occur in particular contexts.

There is no such thing as the relationship between science and religion and this is the book about it.

This statement is made by David Livingstone in Which Science? Whose Religion?, the last chapter in the insightful book, Science and Religion Around the World, edited by John Hedley Brooke and Ronald L. Numbers.

Aside: The author is not the famous missionary from the 19th century, of the same name.

Livingstone reviews the chapters in the book to show the diversity of interactions between different religious traditions and different sciences (from astronomy to anthropology) in different locations and at different times. To understand the complexity of interactions he considers a set of imperatives: pluralise, localise, hybridise, and politicise.

Pluralise

There is a plurality of religions and within any major religion, there is a plurality of traditions. Consequently, the interaction with a specific science or issue may also be incredibly diverse. There is also a diversity of sciences.  A specific science can be viewed from many different angles: knowledge content, method, philosophy, ethics, history, or practitioners.

Localise

Any interaction needs to be considered in its geographical location. Many traditions and perspectives are unique to a particular location. Even something as narrow as Calvinism can vary significantly between countries and communities.

Hybridise

Consider cross-cultural syntheses between different conceptions of science and religion. This is particularly true in this era of globalisation, whereby what people believe and how they live can be a mix of Western modernism, postmodernism, capitalism, and distinctly non-Western worldviews. For example, an astronomer in South Asia may be quite comfortable consulting an astrologer in order to determine an auspicious date for the wedding of their daughter.

Politicise

Political contexts do have an influence on both science and on theology: what topics and perspectives gather the most attention, funding, and debate. Furthermore, these political contexts can significantly influence discussions, whether it is discussions about biological evolution in the USA or about astrology in a South Asian country. 

Livingstone's imperatives (pluralise, localise, hybridise, politicise) are oriented towards describing and understanding a specific science-theology interaction that has happened or is underway. But, there is a question that is important to discuss and has contested answers.

How does one discern what might be normative in a science-theology interaction in a specific context?

A related question is what should be normative in contextual theology?

Behind these questions, there is a general philosophical problem that reflects the is-ought problem, the fact-value distinction, and the relationship between descriptive and prescriptive statements. 

Latin American conceptions of the Kingdom of God

This week at the theology reading group we are discussing In Search of Christ in Latin America: From Colonial Image to Liberating Savior, by Samuel Escobar. It takes a historical approach to Christology, surveying how ideas about Christ developed over time in Latin America. Particular attention is paid to the changing context: cultural, political, economic, and literary.  Previously, I posted about some of the earlier chapters that discuss the period up to about 1950.

Here are some of the things that I appreciate about the book, and why it should be read by those outside Latin America.

A model for doing contextual theology

The many different ways of doing contextual theology. They all have strenghts and weaknesses. Escobar recounts the long and substantial efforts of Latin Americans to do theology in their own context. They took their own context (historical, cultural, religious, literary, economic, and political) seriously, particularly with regard to politics, justice, human rights, and poverty. They brought that context into dialogue with their theology and with the Bible. In particular, they worked very hard to engage with the Bible and biblical scholarship at a deep level.

Respectful and substantial engagement with other views and traditions. 

Although distinctly Evangelical, Escobar carefully engages with a wide range of views different from his own (Marxists, liberation theologians, missionaries from the USA, public intellectuals, Catholics, ...). He takes their views seriously, does not caricature or dismiss them, and appreciates, while also sometimes giving significant critiques. It refreshing that the book has a generous and gracious tone. 

The view of theology and mission is holistic (integrated) and multi-dimensional. For example, the redemption and reconciliation offered by Christ are deemed to be personal, social, global, and cosmic.

The multi-dimensional perspective on the Kingdom is nicely summarised in a quotation at the beginning of Chapter 10 (page 173).

All these explicit or implicit, understandings of the Kingdom, throughout Christian history, have focused on some aspects of the kingdom at the cost of others, by putting emphasis on its present or future reality, on its historical or eternal nature, its social or personal dimension.

Each interpretation has understood a part as being the whole, thus contributing to a distortion, an eclipse, a reduction of the biblical message of the Kingdom. It is time to risk recovering the totality of the kingdom Gospel, to appreciate its multidimensionality and to take on our commitment to that the kingdom presents to us here and now. This requires sincere biblical exploration.

Mortimer Arias, Venga Tu Reino

I agree as I consider that theology is intrinsically multi-dimensional, and any theological discussion must seek to find a balance between a range of interpretations and intrinsic tensions or dialectics (e.g. the action of humans and the action of God, Jesus being human and divine, grace and law, faith and works, ...). However, too much theology is partisan and excludes such multi-dimensionality.

David C. Kirkpatrick completed a Ph.D. at Edinburgh University on the history of Latin Americans contribution to global evangelicalism. He expresses admiration for Escobar's book in a recent review in the journal Church History.

[Escobar] moves seamlessly across fields to fashion a book for which I know very little comparison.

... one of the particular strengths of Escobar’s book: careful attention to the transnational nature of Latin American Protestantism without overlooking local Catholic and Protestant constructions.

...one of Escobar’s strengths: his willingness to give credit where credit is due, even if it cuts across political narratives or appears to export agency to northern thinkers.

While Escobar pays careful attention to a broad spectrum of literature, his work should dispel at least one surprisingly persistent myth: Latin American Protestants lack their own intellectual tradition. 

Perhaps the only weakness I see in the book is its lack of depth in its engagement with the social sciences, including Marxist perspectives, and economics, including discussions of capitalism and socialism. Sociological perspectives are referred to but it is not clear what key methods and concepts from sociology are actually being used. 

Escobar presents a view of capitalism and socialism is somewhat one-dimensional and dualistic. Must one choose one or the other? Unfortunately, Latin America has suffered from countries veering to extreme forms of either socialism or capitalism. Both forms have been corrupted by entrenched oligarchies and foreign interference. Some of this history and the associated problems are documented in  Why Nations Fail: The Origins of Power, Prosperity, and Poverty, by Daron Acemoglu and James A. Robinson.  They argue that a key to posterity is to have inclusive, rather than extractive, political and economic institutions. The iron law of oligarchy is that if the leaders of an extractive political institution are replaced, particularly in a revolution, that the institution will remain extractive.