Introduction
The experience of deconversion from religious beliefs and practices is a profound and multifaceted journey (Brooks 2018; Cottee 2015; Zuckerman 2011). While much of the existing research on deconversion focuses on individuals who gradually disengage from religion or adopt a secular worldview in private, the experience of religious professionals, especially those in leadership roles, presents a distinct set of challenges and questions (Dennett & LaScola 2013). For clergy who spend a significant portion of their lives preaching, ministering, and living out religious beliefs, the act of deconversion is not merely a personal shift, but a seismic transformation that impacts their worldview, professional identity, and social relationships.
The Clergy Project (TCP) is a non-profit international organization that was launched in 2011 to create a safe and secure Online Community of Forums for current and former religious leaders who claim they no longer hold to supernatural beliefs. Based on in-depth interviews, surveys, and analysis of over three hundred profiles of participants, from over twenty countries, this research sheds light on the experiences of these nonbelieving religious professionals.1
Previous research on organized nonbelief (Blankholm 2022; Cimino & Smith 2014; Langston et al. 2015; LeDrew 2016) has highlighted the diversity of identities within nonreligious communities. While some individuals embrace the label of atheism, others resist it. Furthermore, the influence of “New Atheism,” which LeDrew (2016:7) describes as a fundamentalist secular ideology, and as “a response to religious fundamentalism,” varies across these groups. Some are inspired by its tenets, while others are not. Similarly, some nonbelievers embrace anti-theism or anti-religious stances, while others reject it, or prefer a more neutral position (Cragun & Smith 2024). However, these broad patterns leave a gap in the scholarship, particularly concerning nonbelieving clergy and their participation in The Clergy Project. Despite the growing body of research on organized nonbelief, little is known about the specific motivations behind nonreligious clergy joining such forums.
Existing scholarship suggests that organized nonbelievers present a paradoxical nature (Blankholm 2022; Engelke 2015), as different groups unite around diverse purposes and agendas. In the United States alone, by 2012, over fourteen hundred local nonbeliever groups and more than a dozen national organizations existed (García & Blankholm 2016). These groups often vary in their objectives: some focus on political and secular advocacy, others provide social support and belonging, while some address the emotional challenges of post-religious trauma or create shared rituals and activities. Furthermore, some nonbelievers seek to completely dissociate from religion, striving to eliminate its influence from all aspects of their lives (Blankholm 2018) while others identify as religious and seek out “religious goods” in secular forms, such as mindfulness practices, transhumanism, and atheist churches (Frost 2021). As Blankholm explains, “This variety stems from nonbelievers’ ambivalence toward religion, which is their desire to both reject it and preserve something like it” (2022:16).
For instance, secular transhumanists, aim to establish global networks to promote technological advancements and human enhancement, with the goal of reducing illness, aging, and social inequality (Benedikter & Siepmann 2016; Farman 2020). Additionally, organizations like Sunday Assembly, as discussed by Smith (2017), provide secular versions of “religious goods” such as community and social solidarity. On the other hand, Rebekka King (2023) describes communities like Gretta Vosper’s West Hill church or “atheists who go to church,” individuals who, while rejecting religious dogmas, continue to attend religious services. In contrast, secular movements like mindfulness advocate for societal reformation through mindfulness (Kucinskas 2019).
While many of these groups share a commitment to advancing social justice causes, scholars such as LeDrew (2016), Cimino, Smith, and Cziehso (2020), and Isomaa (2022) have highlighted that tensions persist within secular communities over various social and political issues, revealing contradictions in the objectives and approaches of organized nonbelief. Although a substantial body of research has explored the role of various organizations within the broader landscape of organized nonreligion, there remains a significant gap in the literature regarding The Clergy Project, its role, the demographics and motivations of its participants, and the vision and agendas that guide its members. To address these gaps and mitigate potential biases that may skew perceptions of TCP, this study aims to offer an analysis of the motivations and goals of its participants. This inquiry is not only essential for advancing academic understanding of clergy nonbelief, but also crucial for a wider public audience, as misconceptions and negative portrayals of TCP members—often depicted as militant opponents of religion—can foster unwarranted hostility and misunderstanding toward them.
Extensive research indicates that atheists, agnostics, and other nonbelievers worldwide face significant discrimination and, in some cases, persecution (Gervais et al. 2017; Wadsworth-Jones & O’Casey 2023). Social, political, and emotional factors—including entrenched biases against nonbelievers and/or atheists—force many to conceal their disbelief in God or the supernatural and to lead double lives (Abbott and Mollen 2018; Cragun et al. 2017; Fader 2021; Yeatts et al. 2022). Scholars specializing in the sociology and psychology of apostasy have documented numerous stereotypes associated with this phenomenon (Brewster 2014; Brooks 2018; Cottee 2015). Cottee (2015) discusses the ‘anti-apostate narrative,’ which frames the apostate’s departure as inherently immoral. This narrative functions to: “(1) condemn the apostate’s exit; (2) legitimize coercive control against the apostate; and (3) rationalize the apostate’s exit or defection to another group.” (2015:28). Such narratives serve to protect the religious group from self-doubt by reinforcing its members’ loyalty and commitment (Rothbaum 1988).
Given these conditions, it is not surprising that misunderstandings and prejudices often arise when attempting to describe TCP participants. A clear example of such a misunderstanding can be found in the critique offered by Albert Mohler Jr., the ninth president of The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky, and host of the podcast The Briefing, which offers daily analyses of news and events from a Christian perspective. Following the establishment of TCP in 2011, Mohler published an article titled Atheists in the Pulpit — The Sad Charade of the Clergy Project.2 In his critique, Mohler asserted that TCP seeks “to use the existence of unbelieving pastors to embarrass the church and weaken theism.” He further criticized media outlets such as NPR and The New York Times Magazine for portraying TCP participants as victims, adding that,
The Clergy Project is a parable of our times, but it is also a pathetic portrait of the desperation of many atheist and secularist groups. They are thrilled to parade a few trophies of unbelief, but do they really believe that these examples are serving their cause?… The Clergy Project is a magnet for charlatans and cowards who, by their own admission, openly lie to their congregations, hide behind beliefs they do not hold, make common cause with atheists, and still retain their positions and salaries. Is this how atheist and secularist groups intend to further their cause?
Additionally, Mohler criticized some TCP participants for lacking proper education and for drawing their atheistic inspiration from key figures in the New Atheism movement. He also described TCP as “a toothless tiger that will attract media attention, and that is about all,” claiming that Christianity has little to fear from the project.
In his critique, Mohler makes several major assumptions: (1) that TCP’s goal is to promote an atheistic agenda or “to embarrass the church and weaken theism”; and (2) that TCP participants derive their atheism from the so-called “New Atheists”.
These assertions raise important questions about the motivations and ideologies of TCP members. Stephen Kent argued that the sociological literature on new religious movements is lacking an examination of the efforts of religious groups to portray apostates as intolerable deviants (1990:409). In response, this research aims to test Mohler’s assumptions and explore the actual experiences and perspectives of TCP participants, thereby contributing to the existing scholarship on organized nonreligion. Specifically, my study investigates whether participants strongly identify with atheism, if their nonbelief aligns with the “New Atheism” movement, and whether they view TCP as a platform for anti-religious activism.
Drawing on a methodological commitment to grounded theory, meaning deriving theoretical interventions from data gathered “on the ground,” I sought to explore these assumptions by asking key questions about participants’ relationship with atheism and their motivations within the TCP community. By examining these factors, my research aims to clarify the true nature of TCP and its participants, thus addressing the gaps in the scholarship surrounding organized nonbelief and challenging potentially misleading characterizations.
Literature Review
Historical evidence demonstrates that secular individuals have long organized themselves into communal settings (Bullivant & Ruse 2021). Many modern proponents of these secular communities are ideological descendants of earlier groups and their founders. The origins of many of today’s ideas can be traced back at least to William James Potter (1829–1893), a Unitarian priest who, in 1867, established the Free Religious Association (FRA) in the United States. This organization was supported by progressive Quakers, liberal Jews, radical Unitarians, Universalists, agnostics, Spiritualists, and scientific theists. They opposed organized religion and aimed to create a universal, rational religion free of dogma or theology. The FRA later gave rise to the National Liberal League and served as a precursor to the Ethical Culture movement founded by Felix Adler in 1877. Unitarian ministers that sought to build a secular religion played a significant role in the formation of Ethical Culture. Another key figure was Francis Ellingwood Abbot (1836–1903), a Unitarian minister and author of Scientific Theism (1885), in which he proposed a religion based on scientific realism. Additionally, Unitarian ministers were instrumental in the founding of the American Humanist Association. When the first Humanist Manifesto was issued in 1933, most of its signatories were liberal ministers and theologians, including John Hassler Dietrich (1878–1957), who is often referred to as the “Father of Religious Humanism” (Olds 1977). Historically, such groups have faced misunderstanding, discrimination, and prejudice (Bullivant & Ruse 2021; Gaskin 1989; Moore & Kramnick 2018).
On one hand, this highlights the significant role that religious professionals with liberal and radically inclusive views have played in the development of organized secularism. On the other hand, it also reflects the historical divisions among organized nonbelievers regarding the use of identity labels and the expression of secular worldviews. For instance, the 19th-century debate between Charles Bradlaugh and George Jacob Holyoake, who were pivotal in shaping the Secularist movement, illustrates such divisions. Contemporary organized nonbelievers and humanists continue to experience similar disagreements over identities and policies (Blankholm 2018; Cragun et al. 2017; Isomaa 2022; LeDrew 2016). Consequently, it is unsurprising that there are also disagreements among religious professionals within The Clergy Project. The effort to unite individuals from diverse international backgrounds under a single organization is likely to result in both misunderstandings and disagreements.
Dennett and LaScola (2013), in their research of nonbelieving clergy noticed a dichotomy, dedicating sections 14 and 15 of their book, Caught in the Pulpit, to liberal and conservative (referred to as “Literal”) clergy. Linda LaScola shares insights gathered from interviewing liberal clergy:
It seems obvious that liberal clergy think fundamentalism is horrendous for all the reasons atheists do. They also claim that atheists unfairly attack them because of a false assumption that liberal and fundamentalist clergy are one and the same adversary. Liberal clergy think atheists are dense, and atheists think liberal clergy are dense. When it comes to religion it seems that atheists lead with their heads and liberal clergy with their hearts. Where the liberals hear poetry and myth, atheists hear mumbo-jumbo and lies. The liberals may well be as intelligent, educated, and science-oriented as most atheists, but they recognize a spiritual dimension that atheists dismiss as nonsense; whereas liberals consider atheists blind to the mysterious, the divine, the sacred aspects of life that they find so meaningful—and so hard to explain to the satisfaction of nonbelievers (2013:152–153).
Notably, some individuals (Baker & Smith 2015; Frost 2021; King 2023), including religious professionals, as established by this study, do not perceive religion as inherently supernaturalist. This study has found that while some clergy members choose to completely disengage from religious practices and communities after losing their belief in the supernatural, others opt to continue their ministry for various reasons (cf. King 2023). Some do so discreetly, while others openly disclose their nonbelief to their congregations and continue serving their parish after being accepted by them.
Since its inception, TCP has continued to grow, attracting new members each month. As of 2025, it has over 1,300 participants from various religions and denominations across more than 50 countries and six continents. Dennett and LaScola describe such individuals as representing “an almost invisible class of non-believing clergy” (2010:122). My research into this online platform reveals that TCP is highly diverse, consisting of individuals with a range of backgrounds and worldviews. This diversity means that members may not always find common ground or easily get along due to their differing values and perspectives. The motivations for joining TCP are varied and often unrelated to atheist activism or propaganda. Participants join to seek practical support during periods of internal turmoil or to connect with like-minded individuals.
Data and Methods
To understand TCP participants, I applied the method of netnography (Kozinets 2020) supported by grounded theory (GT) (Charmaz 2006). Netnography is a research method that adapts traditional ethnographic techniques to the study of online communities and cultures. Part of the research involved online data analysis in social media and forums, specifically within the closed online community of TCP. I also employed GT methodology (Charmaz 2006), wherein I collected data and conducted semi-structured interviews in cycles. Kathy Charmaz’s approach is based on constructivism, which emphasizes the co-construction of knowledge by the researcher and the participants. This approach focuses on understanding the meanings and experiences of participants from their perspectives, and enabled me to be more flexible and adaptable compared with other approaches (e.g., by Strauss & Corbin 1998). It allowed an inductive examination of complex phenomena in a naturalistic setting, where theories are generated from the data itself rather than imposed beforehand. It helped to uncover the core patterns, categories, and themes that define the experiences of TCP participants.
The iterative process of data collection and analysis in GT allowed for the ongoing refinement of categories and themes, with each round of analysis informing the next stages of data gathering. Initial open coding was conducted to break down the raw data into discrete units of meaning, which were then grouped into emerging categories. The axial coding phase allowed for the exploration of relationships between categories, helping to refine the central themes and concepts that emerged from the data. Finally, selective coding integrated the categories into a cohesive framework that represented the overall patterns of transition, identity negotiation, and perspectives on religion, secularism, and the New Atheism movement.
From May 2021 to November 2022, I conducted in-depth interviews with forty-one ex-believing religious leaders. Interviews were conducted online (Zoom or Skype) or via phone and lasted between 1 and 3 hours. Some respondents were interviewed more than once. Eighteen additional informants opted to respond in writing to my interview questionnaire, which consisted of over 30 questions, rather than participating in an interview. The vast majority provided very detailed responses about their life journeys, including how they came to faith and subsequently transitioned to nonbelief. Their accounts presented me with 5–10 pages of written answers for each participant. I followed up by contacting many of them for further clarification and discussion of some of their answers. I also read and coded over three hundred personal profiles of TCP participants in their SafetyNet community; profiles are designed to allow TCP participants to share their basic biographical information and a self-description of their journey from faith to nonbelief.
The leadership of TCP also provided me with access and made a public announcement introducing my study and my positionality as a researcher. As a result, many participants have contacted me directly, letting me know that they want to be a part of the study project and are willing to answer research questions.
While most of the existing research on deconversion involves college students or young adults, my study is unique in that my respondents were religious professionals aged mainly between 40–60 years old. The mean age of my informants is 53 years, with a median value of 51. The ages range considerably: the youngest being 23 and the oldest 86. Forty-six were men, eight women, and five non-binary/LGBTQI+. The reason for such gender disproportion is because this is the reality of The Clergy Project and the world of clergy in general. In many religious traditions women simply cannot become clergy. According to the data published on TCP’s webpage3 only around 14 percent of participants are women (or non-binary).
My respondents also represent twenty-four countries and five continents. Those from the US represent twelve different states. The vast majority of TCP participants come from a Christian background.4 Yet, I interviewed representatives of Jewish, Muslim, Buddhist, and Zoroastrian faiths, Native American religious traditions, and representatives of various New Religious Movements (e.g. the Sri Chinmoy Centre or Raelism). Thus, 79% of the respondents identified with various Christian denominations, whereas 21% originated from non-Christian backgrounds.
In this article, the term ‘respondents’ refers specifically to the 59 individuals who participated in my in-depth interviews and survey. Nearly all respondents were assigned pseudonyms to protect their confidentiality; with the exception of those who elected to use their given names. Likewise, I utilize the real names of those TCP participants who openly and publicly discuss their deconversion in media or publications (e.g., John Compere).
Results
This section examines four key themes: first, the nature of The Clergy Project and its policies; second, how participants identify post-deconversion and their attitudes toward the label “atheist”; third, their opinions on the New Atheist movement; and finally, their reflections on the role of religion in society and its potential future. Through these themes, the section explores the complex, multifaceted nature of deconversion and the evolving identities of nonbelieving clergy.
TCP does not promote irreligion
Despite Mohler’s assumption that TCP seeks “to use the existence of unbelieving pastors to embarrass the church and weaken theism” my research demonstrates that TCP does not actively seek out nonbelieving clergy but rather adopts a passive approach, insuring that non-believing clergy initiate first contact. There is no discernible effort to promote its existence, proselytize, or convert individuals into nonbelief. It also distinctly rejects the notion of assembling an anti-theist coalition to combat religion. TCP prioritizes ensuring that individuals approach them voluntarily. Henry, a former pastor from a conservative Calvinistic background in Canada, recounted his experience, stating,
I was very impressed and touched by my “Entrance interview” … I was intrigued to discover that they wanted to make sure I was truly joining of my own free will, and that I would never “blame” them for making me an unbeliever.
Additionally, TCP maintains a policy of non-initiation towards its participants, refraining from issuing announcements, notifications, or engaging in proactive outreach. Individuals must independently access the forum and navigate its sections to obtain updates. This study identified only two instances when someone on behalf of TCP reached out to individuals and asked if they would be interested in joining the Project. These instances occurred during the project’s early stages when they were forming and needed screeners from specific religious traditions.
Furthermore, TCP does not function as a membership club where regular membership updates or active participation are mandatory. As articulated by TCP’s Vice President, a fifth-generation Baptist minister, John Compere, “We are an oasis in the desert. If they don’t need us, that’s fine. We are happy to serve this role.” Compere explained that initial member activity typically diminishes after the first month, with subsequent engagement often sporadic or nonexistent. He noted that fewer than 20% of participants sustain long-term involvement in the forum, with most members being active only during the first month after joining, a phenomenon TCP accepts without effort to prompt continued engagement. Another participant, a former missionary to China, John, remarked, “We have over 1000 members, but less than 100 of those interact with any regularity at all.”
TCP acknowledges that many individuals undergo transitional phases where support is sought, after which they may disengage naturally. TCP thus abstains from pursuing inactive members. Similarly, they never actively solicit religious professionals to join their “club” through direct outreach. In summary, TCP maintains a stance of passive availability, respecting individual autonomy in seeking their support and resources without imposition or solicitation. While TCP occasionally seeks to raise public awareness of its existence (e.g., its president may give an interview on a popular YouTube channel), it does not actively reach out to individuals. Instead, it waits passively for those in need to contact them.
For many, TCP serves as a transitional point —an oasis on their journey to a new post-religious life. Mike, who served as an associate pastor in a Baptist church in Washington, shared how TCP played a crucial role during his transition. After receiving counseling sessions that proved therapeutic, Mike expressed gratitude:
The transitions were a long and winding road, and I could not have done it without the Clergy Project and the many wonderful friends I met along the way. For them, I am forever grateful.
However, Mike also observed that once individuals overcome their immediate challenges, their involvement in forum discussions tends to decrease. Mike noted that once TCP helped him it was no longer instrumental in his life. This underscores that many join TCP for specific support during a transitional phase, with most not returning once their needs are met. Nonetheless, TCP remains a resource participants know they can rely on when needed.
A notable subgroup includes clergy who remain in ministry but cannot openly disclose their disbelief or leave their positions. For example, Samir, a Catholic priest from Lebanon serving in Europe, noted that TCP provides him with encouragement to navigate his challenges and reassurance that he is not alone in his struggles. 55% of respondents noted they joined the Project to forge new friendships and socialize with like-minded individuals who could empathize with their shared challenges or experiences. Nevertheless, a notable percentage (23%) explicitly mentioned they personally did not require support from the Project but joined out of solidarity or to assist others who might benefit from their experiences. This study thus identified two broad categories of TCP participants: those who had long abandoned their faith, overcome internal struggles, and accepted the outcome of their deconversion; and those who recently underwent spiritual turmoil, some still active in ministry or in the midst of deconversion, seeking tangible assistance and guidance on navigating this pivotal transition in their lives.
Respondents also confirmed the pattern regarding involvement. When asked about their level of involvement, 27% of respondents stated that they are not active or seldom visit the project. Another 41% of respondents admitted that they were active during the first few weeks or months after joining the project but then their involvement diminished. Reasons for decreased activity included the fulfillment of participants’ initial needs from TCP or specific dissatisfaction with the forum. Typically, participants from non-Christian or liberal Christian backgrounds faced these challenges. It is important to note that this percentage may not accurately reflect the overall situation within the project, as many respondents were active members who contacted the researcher following the public announcement about this study on the forum. Therefore, the actual percentage of inactive members could be significantly higher.
Finally, TCP does not adhere to a single policy or direction. Instead, while it may not fully meet the needs of all members, the project itself is shaped by its participants, becoming what they collectively make of it.
Atheists or not?
Rebuilding one’s identity is a challenging process. Many respondents expressed regret over losing the ingrained sense of purpose and direction that religion had provided. Religion had been central to their lives, encompassing their life purpose, daily activities, and self-worth. Their social lives were deeply intertwined with their religious identity, and their self-conception was largely based on their religious beliefs. For many it marked a complete transformation of their ontology—a shift toward a disenchanted reality. With the loss of these beliefs, many found themselves experiencing a profound sense of emptiness, grappling with the question, “Who am I now?” Throughout this research, respondents were asked about their current identity and how they prefer to call themselves after deconverting from religious beliefs. Additionally, they were queried about their thoughts on the term “atheist” and whether it was acceptable to refer to them as such.
In their study of organized non-belief in Russia, Korostichenko and Sleptsova (2020) found that only 35.4% of respondents identified as atheists, while an additional 3.4% identified with the term “new atheism.” In contrast, Langston et al. (2015) found that 83.5% of organized nonbelievers in the United States identified as atheists. Among the clergy respondents in the present study, 47% did not identify with the term “atheist.” Furthermore, 41% of these individuals expressed negative views about identifying as atheists, with some outright rejecting the label. These findings suggest that cultural, historical, and social factors may influence the acceptance and use of the term “atheist” in different countries. Given that the TCP is an international organization, these factors likely shape how members from diverse cultural and national backgrounds perceive and adopt labels related to non-belief. This may also indicate that many former clergy members prefer to conceptualize their beliefs—or lack thereof—in more nuanced ways, beyond the use of the term “atheist.”
Some respondents who do not identify as atheists did not object to the term ‘atheist’ itself, but avoided using it due to the social stigma and the ‘heavy baggage’ associated with it. They felt that many people perceive atheists negatively, either as immoral individuals or as aggressive opponents of religion who seek to destroy religious institutions and ideas, reminiscent of Soviet atheists (cf. Abbott and Mollen 2018; Cottee 2015; Cragun et al. 2017). A few respondents also admitted that, while they felt uncomfortable identifying as atheists due to the stigma, they might eventually acknowledge their atheism if pressed, but would provide additional context to avoid misunderstandings. This perception was particularly reported by respondents outside Northern Europe, where stigma against nonbelievers is significant (cf. Gervais et al. 2017, Wadsworth-Jones & O’Casey 2023). Additionally, it suggests that secular activism in the United States (where the majority of respondents are from) is more prominent compared to Northern Europe, resulting in greater opposition and criticism (Kasselstrand et al. 2023:116).
As previously mentioned, 47% of respondents declined to identify as atheists. What identities do they prefer instead? Some respondents indicated a preference for avoiding labels altogether, rejecting the notion of categorizing individuals. Yakov, a Jewish religious leader from Israel, stated that he had never considered the question and therefore did not have a specific identity label. Yet, the most popular alternatives that my informants preferred were “humanist” and “agnostic.”
Amir from Saudi Arabia explained that, since it is impossible to definitively prove the nonexistence of a god, the logical choice is to identify as agnostic. Some preferred agnostic to avoid stigma (cf. Blankholm 2022; Edgell, Frost, & Stewart 2017). Ricardo, an assistant pastor from Texas, expressed admiration for Bart Ehrman’s perspective on this issue and similarly prefers the term “agnostic.” While Faraz from Pakistan identifies as an Ex-Muslim Humanist.
Furthermore, among the remaining 53% who were comfortable with the term “atheist,” 60% admitted to using additional identifiers, such as “Humanist” or “Secular Humanist”, “Agnostic”, and “Non-theist,” among others, including freethinker, human, realist, naturalist, secular Jew, skeptic, and polymath. This presents a spectrum of identification: from individuals proudly declaring themselves as atheists, to those who use the label selectively, to those who are comfortable identifying as atheists alongside other terms. On this spectrum, out of all respondents the study established that only 15% are those who are willing to easily or even proudly declare to be an atheist.
Interestingly, respondents’ attitudes toward identity labels proved to be flexible and subject to change over time. Respondents indicated that throughout their lives, their attitudes toward various identity markers have evolved. They acknowledged that while they might have felt comfortable identifying a certain way at one point, they reserved the right to change their view in the future. For instance, Mason, a former Pentecostal pastor from Florida, explained that “atheist” was not a term he adopted immediately. After his deconversion in the late 1990s, he initially identified as a deist. He then experimented with identities such as freethinker, secularist, or agnostic, but found they did not resonate. Over time, he subsequently started referring to himself as a naturalist or materialist. However, with the advent of the internet and the rising popularity of figures like Madalyn Murray O’Hair and Richard Dawkins, he ultimately embraced the term “atheist” or even “proud atheist.”
Similarly, Maureen, a former Catholic nun who prefers to describe herself as a “realist,” initially harbored apprehensions towards the term “atheist.” Over the course of several years, however, she gradually solidified her convictions, eventually embracing atheism with confidence.
In summary, while some religious professionals embrace the term “atheist” unequivocally, others prefer alternative or additional labels, reflecting the diversity and evolving nature of their identities. These instances highlight the multifaceted nature of identity among nonbelieving religious professionals. It also showcases their adaptability in choosing appropriate identities based on context.
Furthermore, there are often contrasting opinions regarding identity among different voices from within the TCP. For example, Željko was a former Seventh-day Adventist pastor from Croatia and he identifies as an atheist, finding the term straightforward and reflective of his position. Željko also explained that in contemporary society, the term “atheist” is often unpopular, as it can connotate an extreme form of disbelief or presented as a sort of faith, a dogmatic faith in science. However, he believes this is a complete misunderstanding and thus proudly identifies as an atheist, emphasizing his lack of belief in anything.
In contrast, Mason from Florida, who also identifies as a proud atheist, would disagree with Željko’s assertion, because he considers himself a person of faith:
I’m still a person of faith; my faith now is in Science, Nature, Love, Friends, Family, Music, Humor Art, US Constitution, 5,000-year-old Golden Rule, and Separation of Religion and State. I don’t like when people say I lost my faith. It is not a wallet in your pocket… you cannot lose your faith, or find it … you can change your faith.
In other words, Mason emphasized that faith is not something one loses or finds but something that evolves. Thus, a contradiction emerges when two former pastors, both of whom proudly identify as atheists, make opposite claims. This is entirely expected given the diverse range of opinions among the religious professionals included in this study. These divergent perspectives highlight the complexity and diversity of opinions among religious professionals (cf. Blankholm 2022; LeDrew 2016).
Opinion about the so-called New Atheists
Similarly, respondents of this study are divided in their attitudes towards the so-called New Atheism Movement, particularly in relation to the “Four Horsemen of New Atheism”: Dawkins, Harris, Hitchens, and Dennett. When asked to share their opinions, the results were as follows: 27% of respondents expressed support and affinity, 40% offered condemnation and criticism, and 33% remained neutral.
Among those who viewed New Atheism positively, there was no unqualified endorsement; each respondent who expressed some affinity also acknowledged the movement’s shortcomings. For example, Mike from Washington appreciates the contributions of the Four Horsemen despite being aware of criticisms, such as accusations of racism. He values their influence on his own journey, stating that he wouldn’t be where he is without them. Similarly, Pepper, a former Methodist leader from Malaysia, admires Dawkins, Harris, and Dan Barker, relating closely to Barker. Pepper recognizes their biases and finds it important to understand their backgrounds to contextualize their views. He notes that while he disagrees with some of their statements, he can overlook these disagreements without judgment. He emphasized that every philosopher can be wrong about certain things and must be open to challenge; ultimately, it is up to individuals to selectively draw inspiration from their ideas.
Gabe, a former youth pastor in the Orthodox Church in Canada, expressed appreciation for the diverse approaches of the New Atheists, noting that their differing perspectives complement one another and are necessary. However, he also shared that their influence initially had a negative impact on him, which he eventually overcame. Gabe recounted:
And then along came Hitchens, Dawkins, Dennett, Harris, Dillahunty, etc. The list goes on. I watched everything I could find: full debates, lectures, podcasts, I bought the books. I realized atheists were everywhere and in every period of time. It was like my first conversion [religious], and like my first conversion, I overdid it. I became snarky, negative, overbearing and self-righteous. I didn’t like who I was becoming. But through rational thought and reflection, I was able to curb the descent. The catalyst of which was impending open heart surgery. Facing to real possibility of death really puts things in perspective.
Gabe’s testimony aligns with observations recorded by other scholars, such as Blankholm (2022) and van Mulukom et al. (2023), that deconversion from religious beliefs can be perceived as a conversion to secular beliefs. Additionally, it confirms another important observation from this study: over time, apostates often transition from an active anti-theist stance to a more moderate position on religion. Gabe described experiencing various phases after his deconversion, including anger, joy, and arrogance. He was initially very hostile towards religion and identified as an anti-theist. He felt compelled and even obligated to preach atheism, but eventually, this compulsion ceased. Gabe realized he was making the same mistake he did when he was a believer, leading him to stop using social media to mock religion. As a result, he advises others who have recently deconverted to take a deep breath before expressing their pain publicly.
My research found that Gabe’s experience is representative of a broader pattern among TCP participants. When asked about their reactions after acknowledging their loss of faith, specifically regarding any inclination towards anti-religious activism (such as publicly sharing their experiences or attempting to convert others to skepticism), 62% of respondents indicated that they did not feel an urge for anti-religious activism. Furthermore, among those who initially experienced a drive for secular activism, many reported that this impulse waned over time, similar to the pattern observed in Gabe’s case. Interestingly, many respondents not only described their personal shift in this direction but also noted that they had observed similar transformations in others, especially fellow participants in The Clergy Project.
Besides many TCP participants admitted that the so-called New Atheists did not significantly impact their personal life or that they had not read any works by the New Atheists at all. For example, after analyzing data from dozens of interviews and hundreds of testimonies, this research established that while skepticism of many TCP participants was indeed often triggered by the works of the Four Horsemen of New Atheism, a huge chunk of clergy was also influenced by authors such as Bart Ehrman, Marcus Borg, John Shelby Spong, and John Dominic Crossan, along with various theologians and authors representing liberal Christianity or continental philosophy.
An illustration of this dynamic is Strannik, a pseudonym for a current Anglican priest from the UK. He stated,
Also I found European participants are being more philosophical. They often refer to various scholars and philosophers, such as Derrida, Heidegger, various liberal theologians. I don’t mean to say that American ex-clergy are less educated and yet many of them come from different kind of tradition. Indeed many of them would refer to theologians like Crossan, Borg, Fung, Ehrman and even John Shelby Spong, but rarely to a (continental) philosophy. In America it is more about Biblical criticism. And yes, it is quite different from what European participants often want to see and discuss. Many of them rather would discuss a poetry of classic literature and its metaphorical significance for a culture based on a Christian heritage.
This way, Strannik posits that for many European clergy, the deconversion experience is less influenced by New Atheism or Biblical criticism and is instead primarily shaped by continental philosophy.
Furthermore, some respondents expressed outright criticism of “New Atheist” approach. Riya from the United Kingdom, who held a leadership role in a Hindu religious movement, expressed critique of their “white male atheism” for being too militant. She believes they need to be more compassionate, as many religious individuals are simply striving to be good people, and cause no harm to society.
Joey, a spiritual leader within the Lakota-Sioux tribe, criticized the Four Horsemen as privileged academic white men who fail to question their own biases.
I believe they’re privileged academic white men who haven’t figured out how to question the bigotries they were raised with, past the question of a creating being. I wish they knew how to question their own authorities and exampled progressive growth in a secular fashion. They could be great but instead they’ll be washed up old farts left to the annals of history as some of the many we’ve had to grow away from in order to have/build a better world.
Rick, a federal chaplain from Washington, described the prominent figures of New Atheism as “loud” and “annoying,” likening them to fundamentalists, not religious but secular.
Similarly, Luke, a former evangelical pastor from Wisconsin, criticized the harshness of the New Atheists’ methods. He acknowledged the necessity of condemning issues like child abuse scandals but argued against the need to insult millions of innocent and naive believers. Luke supports a more gentle approach, citing Bart Campolo, a participant in the TCP and the son of the famous evangelical preacher Tony Campolo, as an exemplar of the approach he admires.
It is notable that many respondents, after criticizing the methods of the New Atheists, offer comparisons to other more favorable approaches. For instance, Mike, ex-Pentecostal youth leader from British Columbia, was critical of the New Atheists and suggested that Dave Warnock, a popular ex-evangelical pastor and TCP participant, has a more intelligent and peaceful approach to criticizing religion. According to Mike, Warnock avoids portraying Christians as intentionally ignorant, whereas the New Atheists advocate for radical ideas such as the complete eradication of religion or claim that Islam is the “mother lode of bad ideas.”
Another critique of New Atheism comes from Andrew, a current Unitarian minister in Cambridge, UK, who stated,
I simply think they are wrong. From where I stand it’s not that religion per se is dangerous; it is that certain kinds of religion are dangerous. It’s also important to see that the kind of atheism proposed by Dawkins et al. is structured in a very similar way to the problematic and dangerous kinds of religion… Dawkins and the New Atheists tend to hold an essentialist notion of truth and, therefore, they would like to impose on the whole world an ideology that, to me, simply mirrors the ideologies of so many orthodox forms of religion, particularly those coming from monotheistic traditions.
In other words, Andrew argued that the New Atheists’ approach is too harsh and mirrors the dogmatic structure of problematic religious ideologies. This was very similar to the critique of John, from Canada, who recounted his experience speaking at the American Atheists National Convention in 2009. He found himself seated with Richard Dawkins at the same table, where they engaged in a debate about different approaches. John believes that while Dawkins is an extremely rational person, he erroneously assumes that presenting rational facts alone will lead people to reject religion. John strongly disagrees, arguing that many people hold religious beliefs for emotional reasons, as these beliefs provide comfort. He contends that while rational arguments may persuade some, they will never convince everyone. John also noted that in America, there are atheist groups that are racist and sexist, highlighting that it is problematic for Richard Dawkins to speak on behalf of all atheists. He also opposed Dawkins’ assertion that atheism represents a set of positive values, stating that while secular humanism can embody such values, atheism itself does not. Therefore, John advocates for a secular humanist identity over an atheist identity. He then provided an example, noting that an atheist might make a racist statement, believing that one race is inferior to another. However, a secular humanist cannot do so, as a fundamental value of secular humanism is racial equality.
This study thus reveals a range of approaches to atheist identity among non-believing clergy, establishing a spectrum of perspectives on the New Atheist Movement that spans from strong approval to harsh critique. It demonstrates that, although Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennett played a crucial role in the founding the organization, The Clergy Project should not be considered merely an extension of New Atheism.
Is religion beneficial or harmful?
Among all respondents, the majority identified both positive and harmful aspects of religion, with only about 24% perceiving religion as solely or predominantly harmful. In contrast, some respondents exclusively highlighted only the positive aspects of religion. The vast majority of respondents however, approximately three-quarters admitted that religion causes both harm and good. Within this category, there exists a spectrum of viewpoints. While some individuals hold a more positive outlook on religion than negative, others lean towards the opposite perspective. What unites them all is their recognition that religion can both positively impact human lives and cause harm (cf. Cragun & Smith 2024). It illustrates that many apostate clergy, even after losing faith, do not adopt a militant anti-religious stance, recognizing positive impact of religion on society. Some even advocate for collaboration between atheists and liberal believers to promote societal improvements while strongly condemning religious nationalism, exceptionalism, and fundamentalism.
Furthermore, when respondents were asked: “Looking back, would you describe your experience within the religious institution as negative or positive?”. The results were as follows: only 20% of respondents characterized their personal experience with religion as predominantly negative; 36% as predominantly positive; and 44% as neutral. It is important to note that in this regard, religious professionals primarily discuss their individual experiences within their specific religious tradition, rather than addressing the overall phenomenon of religion.
In addition, when the study examined perspectives of TCP participants on the potential future of religion. An overwhelming majority of respondents, exceeding 90%, confidently asserted that religion is unlikely to disappear in any near future and is expected to persist indefinitely. Of course, this assertion does not imply that respondents desire its continuation; some do, but some expressed a wish for religion to fade, especially its extreme and fundamental manifestations. Despite these wishes, respondents generally acknowledged that such a scenario is unlikely. The prevalent and almost unanimous belief among religious professionals, who have extensive experience within the field of religion, suggests that religion in some form or another is likely to always persist.
A key takeaway from this discussion is that contrary to the common assumption that individuals who have left religious groups are uniformly negative, resentful, or antagonistic toward their former faith, or religion in general, this perspective is, in fact, incorrect. Zuckerman (2011), in his study of apostates, noted that anger was not their predominant emotion, stating, “The notion that apostates are riddled with hostility, the claim that secular people are nothing but angry curmudgeons… these widely touted assertions are simply untrue” (137–138). Likewise, in my research findings among TCP members, many nonbelieving clergy do not exclusively dwell on negative aspects of their religious experiences. Instead, they often recall positive aspects and express gratitude for their religious journey, recognizing its role in shaping their personal development. Also, the majority of them are not in the business of opposing religion at all and are comfortable recognizing that religion will likely always be around. Therefore, Mohler’s apprehension that The Clergy Project participants are focused on opposing religion is highly overexaggerated.
Discussion
Grounded theory was applied in this study to explore the complex phenomena of deconversion and identity formation among religious professionals who have transitioned away from faith. The data gathered from interviews, surveys, and testimonies of TCP members revealed a diversity of experiences and perspectives that reflected the broader complexities inherent in religious deconstruction, which is consistent with findings from previous literature on deconversion (Altemeyer & Hunsberger 1997; Streib et al. 2009; Zuckerman 2011).
The application of GT allowed the research to uncover the core patterns and categories that define the journeys of religious professionals as they navigate the transition from belief to nonbelief. This inductive approach enabled the emergence of themes that were not pre-determined by a rigid theoretical framework but instead developed through a systematic coding process of the raw data. The major findings are as follows:
Firstly, TCP is not dedicated to promoting irreligion. It functions primarily as a temporary support system for individuals in need. It does not promote any particular ideology and is open to assisting any nonbelieving religious professionals. For most members, TCP serves as a transitional space—an oasis or refuge—where they can find support before moving on, often without further involvement. The reasons for joining TCP are varied and generally unrelated to atheist activism; members seek practical support or a community of peers. This aligns with the findings of Cottee (2015), who studied participants in two major groups or forums for ex-Muslims: the Council of Ex-Muslims of Britain and Faith Freedom International. Similarly, his respondents primarily joined these forums not to promote irreligion, but to receive practical support during their transition away from Islam.
Secondly, a key finding in this study is that nearly half of the respondents do not identify as atheists, which speaks to the complexity of faith transitions and deconversion processes. This is compounded by polarized responses to the New Atheist movement, especially the “Four Horsemen”. While 27% of respondents expressed admiration for these figures, the majority (40%) offered critiques, particularly criticizing their aggressive tone, ideological rigidity, and the perceived arrogance of their advocacy for atheism. Additionally, many TCP participants did not draw inspiration from “New Atheism” sources and deconverted from their faith based on different influences and reasons. Through GT’s iterative coding process, it became clear that participants who criticized New Atheism often rejected its militant approach in favor of more nuanced, compassionate forms of secularism. This highlighted an ongoing tension between rejecting religious belief and maintaining respect for those still engaged in religious communities. Participants like Riya emphasized the importance of a gentle, understanding approach to deconversion—one that seeks to build bridges rather than burn them. These findings regarding the heterogeneity of nonbelievers are consistent with studies of nonbelievers who are not necessarily religious professionals (Dennett & LaScola 2013; Cragun & Smith 2024; Langston et al. 2015).
Another critical finding stems from the previous observations: many TCP participants are not antagonistic toward religion and do not seek to dismantle it. Furthermore, many respondents, after initially adopting an anti-theist stance, gradually moved to a more moderate position. This pattern suggests that deconversion is not a linear or static process, but rather a dynamic journey where individuals continuously refine their identities. In their recent work Goodbye Religion (2024), sociologists Cragun and Smith also observed that the vast majority of people who leave religion do not engage in anti-religious activism. As they note, “They don’t transition from spending hours in religious veneration and penitence every week to spending all of that time protesting religious privilege or debating theists on social media” (2024:123). Their respondents, after leaving religion, simply filled the time previously devoted to religious practices with secular activities. This suggests that the fear some individuals have—that apostates necessarily engage in protests against religion—is largely unjustified.
One more significant theme that emerged from the data is the recognition of both the beneficial and harmful aspects of religion. Despite deconverting from their religious beliefs, most respondents acknowledged that religion can offer positive aspects, such as a sense of community and purpose, for many people. There is even a group of participants within TCP who continue to identify as religious and value the practice of ministry, despite their lack of belief in the supernatural. Over 90% of respondents believe that religion will always play a role in human life, and most are not primarily focused on opposing religion. Some are, but they mainly concerned with specific expressions of religion, particularly those associated with fundamentalism and the exclusion of marginalized groups. This nuanced view contrasts with the conventional perception of apostates as entirely hostile toward religion. Many participants recognized that their former faith had shaped positive aspects of their lives. This finding reveals that participants actively navigate ambivalence: they acknowledge that while religion can be harmful, it also has the potential to foster meaningful social connections, moral structures, and personal growth. As Blankholm states,
nonbelievers who join groups, all secular people, even those who have no interest in joining a nonbeliever community, struggle with secularism’s ambivalence and face decisions about what things are too religious. This is the condition of being secular (2022:19).
Therefore, understanding the complexity of the deconversion experience is crucial. The process of moving away from religious beliefs and practices is a multifaceted phenomenon (Brooks 2018; Zuckerman 2011). As such, TCP cannot be viewed as a homogeneous community. It is characterized by significant diversity, with members holding a wide range of perspectives on religion, secularism, and other related issues. Consequently, portraying TCP as a monolithic organization with a single, unified agenda is misleading and fails to capture the nuances of its members’ experiences and motivations.
Conclusion
Deconversion from religion, particularly among religious professionals, remains a relatively underexplored phenomenon, especially when compared to studies of deconversion in the general population. Religious professionals often face unique challenges, such as professional identity loss and social isolation. This study’s primary contribution was to illuminate the role The Clergy Project plays within the larger landscape of organized nonbelief. By using grounded theory, the research revealed the multi-dimensional and fluid nature of religious professionals’ journeys from belief to nonbelief. These journeys are shaped by a variety of personal, cultural, and intellectual influences, which prevent a one-size-fits-all understanding of clergy deconversion. The findings showed that TCP members do not uniformly oppose religion; rather, many embrace a more moderate stance, recognizing the complex role religion plays in both their personal histories and broader society. Since its establishment in 2011, TCP has evolved into an invaluable support network for religious professionals transitioning away from supernatural beliefs. Contrary to assumptions that TCP serves primarily to challenge religious institutions or advocate for irreligion, the study found that TCP functions as a supportive environment where individuals navigate the complexities of deconversion. Its diverse membership underscores the fact that TCP is not a monolithic entity but a platform encompassing a broad spectrum of perspectives on religion and secularism.
While this study offers valuable insights into the nature of TCP and the deconversion process, it is important to acknowledge several limitations. First, the research is based primarily on qualitative data from interviews and testimonies, which may be subject to biases inherent in self-reporting. Additionally, the sample may not fully represent all experiences of deconversion among clergy. The findings predominantly reflect Western and ex-Christian perspectives, and the voices of those from more diverse religious or cultural backgrounds may be underrepresented. Furthermore, the dynamic and evolving nature of personal belief systems means that the data presented may not capture the long-term shifts in worldview that could occur in the future. Subsequent research could expand upon these findings by exploring the experiences of nonbelieving clergy across a broader spectrum of cultural and religious contexts, especially focusing on regions outside of North America and Europe. In particular, cross-cultural research could deepen our understanding of how national, social, and religious contexts shape the deconversion experiences of religious professionals.
By clarifying misconceptions surrounding TCP, this study contributes to a more nuanced understanding of the project and its members, emphasizing the importance of moving beyond simplistic characterizations to appreciate the complex realities of those involved in The Clergy Project. Rather than being villains who want to destroy religion, these clergy are often marginalized and stigmatized victims who endure significant social isolation and emotional trauma.
Notes
[1] see section “Becoming a TCP Participant” – https://clergyproject.org/nonbelieving-clergy-join/. The website states, “The Clergy Project’s mission is to maintain a safe and secure online gathering place for religious professionals (either currently and formerly employed) who no longer believe in the supernatural.”
[2] R. Albert Mohler, Jr. August 29, 2012. Atheists in the Pulpit — The Sad Charade of the Clergy Project https://albertmohler.com/2012/08/29/atheists-in-the-pulpit-the-sad-charade-of-the-clergy-project/ Accessed on 8/28/2024.
[3] see under Who We Are – Diversity and Demographics – https://clergyproject.org/clergy-project-demographics/.
[4] For statistics on demographics see TCP’s website – https://clergyproject.org/clergy-project-demographics/.
Competing Interests
The author has no competing interests to declare.