At the risk of angering North Carolinians on both side of the religiosity-in-government question, I will say that recent episodes in several communities across the state have demonstrated why public officials are better off focusing on their jobs and not on symbolism.
Another way to put it might be that these politicians seem to be working furiously to demonstrate that they are not working hard enough on the actual jobs the voters have elected them to address.
First on our itinerary today is the Piedmont judicial district of District Court Judge James Honeycutt. It extends across Iredell, Davie, Davidson, and Alexander counties. Honeycutt is the jurist who announced last week, and then almost immediately pulled back, a new policy to banish language such as “so help me God” from oaths and other legal proceedings in his courtroom.
While Honeycutt defended his proposal as a way to ensure religious neutrality in an era of cultural diversity, it was really a overreaction and waste of everyone’s time. To ask witnesses to swear a sacred oath to tell the truth — particularly when alternative, entirely secular language is always available upon request — presents no legal or conceptual problem within our constitutional government. “God” in this context is a non-sectarian concept, applicable to virtually any religious persuasion.
To accommodate the tiny percentage of potential courtroom participants who have no religious beliefs at all by banning such language from court is a disproportionate, extremist response. Again, secular language is already available. This would be like arguing that since Christmas is a religious holiday, it is inappropriate for the state courts not to meet on that date despite the fact that deferring to the popular will on this point is merely common sense, not an Establishment-Clause violation.
On the other hand, and the other side of the state, advocates of more deference to religion in public policy have committed a similar error, demonstrating perhaps that some county commissioners have too much time on their hands. On Monday night, the Pasquotank county commission debated and eventually tabled (but not rapidly enough, in my opinion) a resolution endorsing God as the “foundation of America’s national heritage.” What business would a county have issuing such a resolution? None, I think. Of course, religious views and traditions played a significant role in inspiring and guiding the work of many of America’s founding fathers and movements. But suggesting that God is “the foundation” is extra-historical, and more importantly is a matter for individual citizens to judge for themselves. The Pasquotank county commission surely has better things to do, as to activists pro and con.
Speaking of, the Pitt county commission devoted significant time at its last meeting to the question of whether the county should ban the practices of palm-reading and fortune-telling in the community. A majority decided not to join 63 other counties in North Carolina that have prohibited these enterprises. I was horrified not at the Pitt vote, which was sensible, but at the notion that 63 other jurisdictions have already chased palm readers and fortune tellers out with presumably proverbial torches and pitchforks, apparently with the aid of state legislators passing local bills in Raleigh. It’s all hooey, naturally, but since when are county commissioners supposed to act as our mommies and daddies? What business do politicians have worrying about such trivia when there are criminals to be prosecuted, schools and roads to build, budgets to fashion, and taxes to cut?
Or, I guess I should add, taxes to raise — though my reading of the tea leaves is that politicians will pay a big price this November if they do so. Now, if you are reading this in one of the 63 paternalistic counties previously referred to, I’m just using a figure of speech. Really. And that round glassy thing in the corner is just my bowling ball.
So help me God.
Hood is president of the John Locke Foundation and publisher of Carolina Journal.