In a move that has sent secular sensibilities into a tailspin faster than a Baptist preacher after a triple espresso, Texas has officially decreed that the Good Book shall be read in its classrooms. Not just read, mind you, but taught. As in, a curriculum built around the adventures of a floating zoo, a bloke who wrestles an angel, and a talking donkey. Because nothing says 'preparing children for the modern world' like insisting a bronze-age text is the basis for literacy.
Let's be clear: this is not a gentle introduction to world religions. This is the state of Texas, fresh from banning books about gay penguins, now forcing little Timmy to sit through the Book of Job. 'But what about the separation of church and state?' you cry, choking on your ethically sourced oat milk latte. Well, Texas Governor Greg Abbott, a man whose face has never been touched by a thought he didn't like, has declared that the Bible is 'essential for understanding American history, law, and culture.' Which is an interesting take, given that the Founding Fathers were a collection of deists, Freemasons, and sceptics who specifically tried to keep this sort of nonsense out of government.
Meanwhile, across the pond, the UK government, which hasn't exactly covered itself in glory when it comes to the relationship between religion and state (see: House of Lords, established church, faith schools that systematically fail to teach evolution), has issued a statement that is the diplomatic equivalent of a raised eyebrow over a cup of Earl Grey. 'We are concerned about any move that entrenches religious doctrine in state education,' a spokesperson mumbled, probably while chewing a digestive biscuit. The irony is thicker than haggis. The UK has religious assemblies, prayers in parliament, and a monarch who is the 'Defender of the Faith'. But apparently, Texas is a step too far.
Let's examine this madness. The proposed curriculum in Texas includes not just the Bible, but also stories from the Book of Mormon, the Torah, and the Quran. But let's be honest: this is a Christian nation project. The other texts are just window dressing. In practice, teachers will be terrified of getting sued if they give equal time to the flying spaghetti monster, so they'll stick to the King James Version. Children will learn that the Earth is 6,000 years old and that there were two unicorns on Noah's Ark. Unicorns! In reality, the word 'unicorn' appears nine times in the original text, but scholars think it was probably a mistranslation of a wild ox. But no matter. Let's base our science curriculum on a mistranslation.
And what of the children? The ones who don't believe? The atheists, the Hindus, the Jedi? They'll be sat in classrooms, expected to be polite while their teacher explains that a global flood happened. They'll raise their hands and say, 'But sir, there's no geological evidence for this.' And the teacher will say, 'Well, it's in the book, so it's important.' The cruelty is the point. It's a culture war, fought on the battleground of children's minds. It's about making sure that every kid in Texas knows that this is a Christian state, right down to their multiplication tables.
The UK's response is predictably mealy-mouthed. 'We encourage balanced approaches to religious education,' they said, which is like saying 'we encourage a balanced diet of arsenic and sugar.' The UK's own education system is a mess of faith schools, some of which teach creationism. But at least they're not mandating Bible stories for everyone. Oh wait, they effectively are in some places. But never mind. Let's throw stones from our stained-glass houses.
In conclusion, Texas has decided to turn its schools into Sunday schools, and the UK is tutting like a librarian who finds a dog-eared page. The real question is: what's next? Will we have maths problems based on the dimensions of the ark? Will history lessons cover the time God smote the Egyptians with ten plagues? I can't wait for the modern language classes, where they teach Aramaic. 'Hello' is 'shlama'. 'I would like to report a miracle' is 'Ana ksheer shlama'. This is educational progress in 2024: we're going backwards. Fast. And we're taking the children with us, whether they like it or not.
So raise a glass. But not of communion wine. That's for amateurs. I'm on gin. And I suspect I'll need several more bottles before this particular fever dream ends.
