The Moral Vacuum: Consent, Religion, and the Crisis of Meaning
As Faith Fades, Consent Becomes King
Sex. Drugs. Rock and Roll. All are fine if consented to. Well, except maybe rock and roll—your apple watch will warn you if you decibel level is too high, after all. But sex and drugs? Society increasingly says they’re all good as long as you consent. But is that really true?
This conversation has been growing online recently, sparked by two recent controversies: the Diddy trial and the leaked sex tape of journalist Glenn Greenwald. Let’s start with Diddy. While the case includes serious allegations involving minors—which are illegal and non-consensual by definition—his broader defense is that everything else he did was consensual. And, given that people involved kept coming back, that seems like a decent defense. But does that resolve him morally? No, certainly not. Everybody seems to recognize that. But why? If everything was consensual, why is it wrong? That’s the question that society seems unable to answer.
Greenwald’s controversy has also fueled this debate. Before this, I’d only heard of Greenwald in passing. I didn’t know what he believes or what side he’s on—and, frankly, I still don’t, and I don’t care. What matters is what happened, but more importantly for this discussion is his defense. He filmed himself having sex with a male prostitute, and it somehow got leaked online. I obviously have not watched the tape, but comments online suggest that there was some extreme debauchery: maid outfits, drugs, and domination. To make matters worse, Greenwald has three children.
Greenwald, who has a large and loyal following, released a statement saying he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation or apology and that he’s “proud” of his private life. He also said the acts depicted were consensual, which, apparently, should absolve him from all discussion online. If he and the other man consented, what’s the problem?
Some online commentators, like the Daily Wire’s Matt Walsh, are making specific points about children being in a home with someone engaging in the acts that Greenwald did. While I tend to agree with Walsh’s points, I want to focus on something else, a general societal ill—the line between consent and morality. Many online have stated, in response to the Greenwald controversy, that consent doesn’t equal morality. On the right, that seems to be a given. But why does that even need to be said? Because society has conflated consent and morality. And, as the Diddy saga shows, when people engage in immoral consensual acts, society doesn’t have the words to say why the acts are wrong—unless it crosses a legal line. But how did we get here? Why does society struggle to condemn societal acts that still feel wrong?
Because with the loss of religion, we’ve lost the vocabulary to judge actions that are legal but harmful. Instead, consent becomes king, and no other considerations matter.
THE DECLINE OF RELIGION
According to Pew Research, the number of Americans who identify as religious has been steadily decreasing over the past few decades. Axios reports that only 45% of adults aged 18-29 now identify as Christian, compared to 78% of adults aged 65 or older. But what does this decline in religiosity mean for the world? Why does it matter?
THE IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION
A few years ago, I discovered Jordan Peterson and began diving into his work. His Genesis series fascinated me, and it still does today. In the introduction, he talks about why he, who at the time was nonreligious, became so interested in the Bible. The Bible, according to Peterson, could only have survived thousands of years because it is true—not necessarily that the stories happened exactly as written, but because of the lessons imbued in the Bible are true. In his series, he seeks to uncover the ancient truths embedded in the Bible—truths about human behavior and the consequences of our actions.
What is clear from his series is that the Bible, and the stories within, have survived so long because they get to the truth of human nature. They tell us what humans should be, what we should do, how we should live. The relationships we should cherish, the actions we should avoid, the things we should hold dear. Above all, it gives us a moral framework—a framework that has survived thousands of years.
These virtues in the Bible, such as honesty, fidelity, and compassion, transcend individual consent. These aren’t arbitrary rules but distilled wisdom about human flourishing, passed down through thousands of years of generations.
THE LOSS OF THE MORAL FRAMEWORK
When you lose religion, you’re not just losing a sense of the higher power—you lose moral direction and fall into moral relativity. Your moral worldview becomes tethered only to what society currently deems acceptable. Today, society has elevated consent as the highest form of moral clarity: if the acts were consensual, they must be okay.
In Diddy’s case, we see another societal framework at play—the legal system. If his actions were technically consensual, but he still ends up in jail for other reasons, that outcome allows society to avoid examining the limits of consent as a moral standard. People can point to the fact that he broke the law and feel satisfied that justice was served, never having to wrestle with the deeper question of whether “consent” alone is enough. But if Diddy is acquitted—if everything he did was legal and consensual-society is left exposed, unable to articulate why his actions still feel wrong. That’s when the cracks in the “consent is king” morality code become impossible to ignore.
Religion once gave us a vocabulary for discussing virtue, vice, and the common good. We could all discuss what is right and wrong and understand each other, because we all shared a common higher power. Now, with so much of the world—especially the younger generation—losing this shared moral framework, we are left with no way to discuss right and wrong with one another. Instead, consent becomes the only framework that matters.
If Greenwald hired a male prostitute and ingested meth while raising three kids, but it was all consensual, why is that wrong? The adults all consented. If he’s okay with his kids taking in his moral framework, one that he says he is “proud” of, why should we care?
If Diddy had drug-fueled sex parties, who cares? The adults consented, so is there any problem? Even when it comes to minors, the nonreligious argument usually circles back to consent: minors can’t legally give it, so that’s where the line is drawn. But what if the law set the age of consent lower—say, at fourteen, as it is in countries like Germany and Italy? If our only standard is consent, then changing the law would suddenly make those same acts acceptable. Those who believe “consent is all that matters” would be left with no way to explain why Diddy’s parties were wrong if everyone involved met the legal age. It leaves us morally adrift, unable to articulate why some actions are wrong—even when, deep down, we know they are.
IT'S NOT JUST ‘GOD SAYS SO’
For the religious, morality isn’t just about following rules because “God says so.” It’s about drawing on a tradition that has, over thousands of years, identified what helps people and communities flourish. The stories and teachings found in religious texts aren’t just arbitrary—they’re reflections on what builds trust, nurtures relationships, and creates a life worth living.
Even if you aren’t religious, there’s value in recognizing that these frameworks offer more than just prohibitions. They encourage us to look beyond momentary pleasure and consider the kind of legacy we leave, the strength of our relationships, and the impact we have on others. A life built only on consent and personal satisfaction often ends up feeling empty, while a life built on deeper virtues offers meaning and fulfillment.
In the end, a society that loses its moral vocabulary is left unable to explain why some things are wrong—even when they clearly are. We need more than consent; we need wisdom about what it means to live well.
