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w1ng3dw01f · 3 months ago

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Portrayals of Secularism and Religion in Lost, Explained Through Scholarly Thought

As I rewatched this series with my friends this semester, I realized that Lost (TV 2004) offers a compelling narrative that explores the complex connections and contradictions between secularism and religion. While there are tons of articles about the religious aspects of Lost, there are almost none about the secular, and I wanted to talk about both.

I specifically draw from Talal Asad, Tomoko Masuzawa, Lorraine Daston, Peter Galison and Susan Harding to explore how the show interrogates examples of knowledge production within religion and secularism in ways that reflect and complicate contemporary critiques of secular modernity through the characters and groups.

Introduction / Theoretical Framework:

A way of knowing refers to how different cultures, religions, and societies define and produce knowledge. It is the systems of belief and reasoning that shape how people understand the world. A way of being, on the other hand, is how individuals embody these beliefs in their daily lives. It manifests through traditions, practices, and experiences shaped by their unique social and cultural contexts (Masuzawa, 2005, 12). While they are very much associated with how people have studied religion, these two concepts also tie into secularism. To understand the tension between secularism and religion, it is essential to define them.

Secularism, a ‘Western’ concept, is often understood as the separation of religion from other aspects of life, such as politics, education, and science. The term has become almost synonymous with modernity, one of secularism’s various projects. It claims neutrality, positioning itself as independent of religious or spiritual influence. However, secularism is not merely an absence of religion. It is a pervasive framework that shapes everything from scientific inquiry to public discourse and everyday life (Asad, 2003, 9; Daston and Galison, 2007, 32). It reflects Eurocentric assumptions about what constitutes legitimate knowledge and practice. Thus, secularism is not a neutral or static concept.

Conversely, there is a modern concept of religion which overcasts any definition of the term we may have had previously. While religions are generally seen as systems of beliefs, values, and rituals, the way they have been categorized is deeply influenced by Western colonial history. European scholars created hierarchies that positioned Christianity as the dominant or “universal” faith while labeling other traditions as “minor,” “tribal,” or “superstitious.” These classifications were not neutral or natural; they were constructed to reinforce Western dominance over other cultures (Masuzawa, 2005, 11).

Both secularism and religion are shaped by history, power, and Western, Christian, and colonial perspectives. The very notion of separating religion from public life emerged during the Enlightenment, when European powers established their cultural norms as universal while dismissing other ways of knowing as outdated or irrational. Over time, this perspective has cast religion, especially non-Christian ones, as inferior to the secular (Masuzawa, 2005, 14). Even within the West, the boundaries of secularism are constantly shifting, requiring ongoing reinforcement to uphold its authority over alternative ways of understanding the world.

A binary between secularism and religiosity can look like this:

Secular:

- Mastery over nature

- Fact

- Progressive

- Peaceful

- Modern

- Reason

- Free-thinking

- Objective

- Good / Evil

Religious:

- Harmony with nature

- Fiction/faith

- False

- Regressive

- Violent

- Ancient

- Dogma

- Brainwashed

- Good / Evil

This boundary is unstable because it can overlap or sometimes, slightly confusingly, be interchangeable. There are many grey areas, typically because these categories are historically constructed rather than inherent and how often they can blur together in practice. These are also common stereotypes rather than inherent truths.

With this theoretical groundwork established, we can now examine how Lost exemplifies these concepts.

Lost, for those who don’t know, is about a group of people whose’ plane (commercial flight) crashes on an island. They need to learn how to survive—together—especially as they navigate the island’s mysteries, the inhabitants of the island, and even a scientific organization that once operated there. Beyond that, there are instances of time travel. And, a constant of the series is non-linear storytelling through flashbacks and flash-forwards.

When I say that Lost is a fantastic tool for exploring the binaries and other tensions between secularism and religion, I mean that in the way the show continuously dramatizes tensions between secular and religious worldviews in ways that align with academic critiques of secularism. Whether intentional or not, the show serves as an exploration of how knowledge is constructed, contested, and destabilized in both historical and contemporary contexts.

Man of Science vs. Man of Faith:

One of the largest themes throughout the show, and the most blaring example of secular and religious discourse being present in this show, is Man of Science vs. Man of Faith, two very different ways of knowing and being. Jack Shephard, the doctor and self-made leader of the survivors of the plane crash, is thematically known as a Man of Science. His training as a surgeon shapes the way he approaches problems. He believes in evidence, logic, and fixing things through practical solutions. John Locke, embracing a more mystical, intuitive way of being while on the island, almost as a sage type, is a Man of Faith. He sees the island as a place of destiny and purpose (Lostpedia). The dynamic of these two characters can be defined as friends and enemies, with their worldviews dictating how they see each other and the world around them. This can be seen in Season 1 episodes, “White Rabbit,” and “Exodus, Part 1," and further in the episodes titled “Orientation,” and “Man of Science, Man of Faith” in season 2.

One scene from "White Rabbit" shows Jack and Locke in discussion. Jack expresses to Locke his hesitations because he sees his dead father in different parts of the island. It perfectly exemplifies the divide between religious and secular ways of knowing and the binary between the two characters. Additionally, it reflects a broader historical debate about how we define and pursue knowledge, particularly with what can be considered credible (Asad, 2003). This is also not the first time Locke’s perspective is implicitly or explicitly framed as irrational within the show’s narrative, despite being presented as a valid alternative. That reflects how modern secularism privileges science as the dominant way of understanding reality, which is an extensive part of Talal Asad’s and Tomoko Masuzawa’s argument—in their books, “Formation of the Secular,” and “The Invention of World Religions”—that secularism and modernity are historical and political projects rather than a universal truth.

Furthermore, there are other characters beyond Jack and Locke who experience personal conflicts that blur the secular-religious divide.

Desmond’s journey is one of the most direct challenges to the modernist faith in empirical knowledge. His experiences on the island blur the lines between rationality and faith. In season 3, after surviving an explosion and exposure to an electromagnetic anomaly, Desmond starts experiencing consciousness-jumping through time (Lostpedia, “Before Your Eyes.”). Later in the series, Daniel Faraday—arguably the show’s most committed “man of science” outside of Jack—attempts to explain Desmond’s experiences through physics, but his theories prove inadequate. Desmond’s survival ultimately depends not on scientific reasoning but on an emotional, almost mystical connection: his love for Penny (Lostpedia, “The Constant”).

In the next season, he begins having prophetic visions, particularly of Charlie’s death. These premonitions are demonstrably real within the logic of the show, yet they defy scientific explanation. This directly challenges the secular assumption that knowledge must be empirical and measurable to be valid.

By redefining the scientific concept of a “constant” as something deeply personal and unquantifiable, Desmond’s story subverts the idea that knowledge and truth are solely determined by empirical methods. His arc suggests that intuition, love, and premonition—qualities often dismissed as irrational—may hold just as much, if not more, epistemic weight as logic and measurement. This directly undermines the secular assumption that rationality and faith exist in opposition, instead portraying them as intertwined.

Mr. Eko represents a different kind of faith than Locke. As seen in Season 2 Episode 10, before the island, he became a priest through unsavory means tied to a misunderstanding. As a crime lord, he attempted to fly drugs out of Nigeria as there was no market for them. The day of the flight, they disguise themselves as priests. As they were about to take off, his brother Yemi, an actual priest, was shot and killed by the military chasing after them. The plane ended up taking off without Eko and the man was mistaken as a real priest by the military. The man then proceeded to become an actual priest under a fake name to keep himself safe and continue his brother’s work (Lostpedia, “The 23rd Psalm”).

When he sees Yemi’s apparition (the smoke monster in disguise) on the island in season 2, Episode 21, Eko believes it is a divine message, while Locke dismisses it as just another island vision. Unlike Locke’s mystical faith, Eko’s belief is shaped by institutional Christianity but operates independently of rigid doctrine. However, his arc questions religious authority and its intersection with power. His pre-island transformation challenges the secular assumption that religion exists separately from politics and violence. Eko’s rejection of confession, once with Yemi in Nigeria and a second time with the smoke monster on the island, also suggests, similar to Asad, Masuzawa and Harding, that religious meaning is shaped by individual interpretation rather than institutional structures.

In Season 6, Episode 9, we see Richard Alpert’s backstory. After crashing on the island in 1867 on a ship, gains his immortality (a secularly impossible concept) from Jacob, the protector of the island. This was part of a deal. Jacob would give him immortality and Richard would act as an in-between for Jacob and everyone else who arrives on this island, a good number of whom view Jacob as some kind of deity (Lostpedia, “Ab Aeterno”). The amount of blind faith Richard has in this man afterwards as he does his bidding and acts as a medium between him and the rest of the island’s inhabitants, reveals the similarities between religious and secular governance structures—both require belief in an unseen guiding force.

Conversion Narrative and Other Themes Surrounding Fundamentalism:

Locke’s storyline exemplifies a conversion narrative. He goes from an ordinary man to a believer in the island’s mystical destiny. He goes from needing a wheelchair due to a paralyzing injury to being able to walk again, instantly healed when he wakes up upon the crash of the plane. For him, this newfound ability is an undeniable sign of the island’s supernatural power (Lostpedia, “Walkabout”). Like a religious convert interpreting the world through faith, Locke begins to see the island’s influence everywhere and becomes its most ardent believer. His journey aligns with themes explored in Susan Harding’s “The Book of Jerry Falwell”, which examines the intersections of secular, religious, and political discourse in the rise of Fundamentalism and the Born-Again Christian movement. One of her key arguments is that conversion, often marked by baptism, reorients an individual’s worldview. Those who undergo this transformation begin interpreting their experiences through a spiritual or divine lens, seeing evidence of higher powers in everyday life. The converters, once ‘unsaved’ individuals, are then saved (Harding, 2000). Locke’s testimony of transformation parallels what Harding describes as the creation of new subjectivities through evangelical storytelling.

In contrast, Jack has a conversion, which is much more drawn out. He repeatedly challenges Locke and the Others, refusing to accept their faith-based explanations. However, as the series progresses, Jack’s stance changes. Toward the end of the show, he begins to embrace notions of destiny and sacrifice, culminating in a savior complex that ties his sense of purpose to the island. His shift reflects the broader tension between faith and reason—a central theme in both religious and secular discourse.

Furthermore, an actual baptism occurs on the show. Claire asks Eko to baptise her and her baby, Aaron, after Charlie testified over and over again that it was important so the baby could be saved (Lostpedia, “Fire + Water”). It’s an intense, aggressive insistence, especially since his only drive to save the baby came from hallucinations leading him to thinking he had to save the baby. It is never really explained why Charlie had these hallucinations, but the show correlates it to him being a recovering heroin addict. Additionally, it was a discussion with Eko that led Charlie to the conclusions he made. Claire, skeptical but emotionally vulnerable, is upset at Charlie at first for literally taking Aaron and trying to baptise him in the ocean, which might have caused the baby harm. The next day, she also seeks Eko’s advice. Meanwhile, Eko and Claire discuss why a baptism may be important and what that means for her and her baby. Harding notes that testimony works because it often bypasses rational persuasion and instead appeals to emotions of fear, and care (Harding, 2000). Charlie’s tactics fail, but Eko’s gentle way of framing it does. Claire and Aaron end up getting baptised due to the relational trust and belief that Eko fosters.

A different example of Evangelical Christian dynamics is the (not so cleverly named) inhabitants of the island: The Others. This is a group of people who mostly end up and decide to live here, but have a strong sense towards protecting themselves. On top of gathering info on them from the outside world (they have a network of people), they have people infiltrate the survivors and pick out those who are deemed “good.” They then take these “good,” people to live with them. To those not deemed “good,” they come off as highly secretive and aloof. Their secrecy, strict initiation processes, and emphasis on faith in the island create a strong insider/outsider divide. Each of these mirrors aspects of Fundamentalism. Conservative Protestants mentioned in Harding’s book had a strong sense of how right they were in their ways of knowing to the point of infiltrating secular spaces to show the truth, and how those not in the religion would have to be set outcasted, set aside (as Harding herself recounted experiencing) or shepharded’ (Harding, 2000, 64).

Beyond that, many characters undergo moments of “fall and redemption” that echo the structure of evangelical testimonies. The character with the most stretched out fall and redemption arc as well as the most known in the series is “Sawyer” Ford, an asshole conman who becomes a very likeable and reliable leader. This narrative approach is especially prevalent among leaders—religious and political—who use personal stories of past struggles and redemption to establish credibility, a sense of humanity, and gain followers (Harding, 2000). Jerry Falwell, Francis Shaeffer, and Donald Trump have often utilized this technique. It is in this way, as well as a few other narrative techniques that people such as them like to paint themselves as prophet figures. It can be argued that Benjamin Linus of Lost tries to do similar things in his manipulations of the people around him.

Knowledge Production:

Something important to epistemology and broader scientific knowledge is atlases. Scientific atlases do more than compile knowledge; they actively shape what is considered legitimate and train practitioners in how to see. In their book, “Objectivity,” Daston and Galison describe atlases as tools that refine the scientific eye, a concept that can be applied to Lostpedia’s role in guiding viewers' engagement with Lost. Like an atlas that organizes exemplary images to instruct observers, Lostpedia structures vast amounts of information—from plot details to thematic analyses—helping both new and seasoned fans navigate the show’s intricate world.

As a reference work, Lostpedia reinforces what is significant and how it should be interpreted, much like an atlas that teaches users to categorize specimens. By highlighting recurring numbers, symbolic references, and character arcs, it trains fans to recognize patterns and hidden meanings, shaping their perception of the show just as atlases shape scientific observation. Moreover, Daston and Galison emphasize the immense effort, resources, and meticulous documentation required to produce atlases. While Lostpedia is crowdsourced rather than the work of a single author, it similarly represents a massive collective endeavor to map Lost’s narrative universe—much like anatomical or astronomical atlases map physical realities. Just as atlases for new scientific instruments require even experts to learn how to see anew, Lostpedia provides a dynamic space where fans continuously refine their interpretations as new theories emerge.

Now, to address epistemological frameworks in regards to some groups of characters.

Jacob himself, and his counterpart known simply as the Man in Black by the fandom, or the Smoke Monster in the show, represent another piece of religious and secular knowledge production: good vs evil. Jacob, seen as a deity, wants to prove to the Man in Black, a devil-like figure, that people can be inherently morally good. So, he keeps bringing people to the island (by plane or boat crash, or some other way), and the Man in Black, often through appearing to people as dead loved ones, keeps trying to corrupt them to show that they can’t be inherently morally good (Lostpedia, “Ab Aeterno”). This is a very clear binary between the two that echoes both religious and secular notions.

Additionally, certain Others more tied to Jacob than most have call and response phrases: (a) What lies behind the shadow of the statue? (b) He who protects us all. This ritual speech functions like a sacred password. It implies a secretive, esoteric system of knowledge and loyalty. It divides insiders from outsiders not based on felt experience or personal narrative, but on access to hidden knowledge and correct performance.

However, just as modern secular states often claim to be neutral while enforcing their ideological structures, Jacob presents himself as a distant, rational authority figure while covertly maintaining control over The Others through Richard. Moreover, Jacob's moral authority mirrors the secular power enacting and legitimizing suffering in the name of a ‘greater good’ (Talal Asad, 2003). The Man in Black, like individuals discussed in Asad’s “On Suicide Bombing,” is cast as irrational and dangerous precisely because he resists the terms of moral order. Such a framework brings knowledge production into sharp focus, particularly with how the show dramatizes who gets to define truth, morality, and reality on the island (Asad, 2007). If we think of the island as a microcosm of the modern world, the conflict between the two becomes not just a moral or spiritual struggle, but a struggle over epistemic authority: who has the right to know, to name, to define what counts as knowledge and what does not.

The D.H.A.R.M.A. Initiative (standing for Department of Heuristics and Research in Material Applications) is thus a perfect juxtaposition to The Others. They were hinted at throughout the series, but were first actually introduced in season 4 (Lostpedia, “Season 4”). Stationed on this island, this organisation is inspired by Hindu and Buddhist concepts of “dharma.” The logos represent the I Ching, a Taoist method of divination. In the show's context, “dharma” refers to a duty or responsibility, interconnectedness, and the pursuit of a "right way of living". The Initiative's stated mission is to study the island's unique properties for the betterment of mankind and world peace, aligning with the Buddhist concept of seeking enlightenment and the Taoist concept of harmony with nature (Lostpedia, “The DHARMA Initiative”). However, the Initiative represents a modern, scientific project of knowledge classification and control, much like 19th-century European anthropology’s approach to “world religions,” explored by Masuzawa. To reiterate, there exist no truly neutral classifications, only defining ways of being through Western secular-modern thought (Masuzawa, 2005, 14). The Initiative embodies a similar colonial impulse regarding the island. Rather than engaging with the island’s mysteries on its or The Other’s terms, they attempt to systematize and dominate the local knowledge, completing electromagnetic experiments because of the Island’s specific properties, and ultimately unintentionally making it possible for a nuclear incident to take place (Lostpedia, “The Incident, Parts 1 and 2” ). The Initiative met its end when The Others (or, The Hostiles, as they were called by DHARMA) wiped them out with gas. The downfall of this group suggests that institutionalized, empirical approaches to knowledge are not universally applicable. Instead, they are an example of how knowledge, scientific or religious, as historically and ideologically constructed, can be the causes for wars to start (Asad, 2007, 49).

The island serves as a liminal space where secular and religious worldviews collapse into each other, reflecting Asad’s critique of secularism as a historical, power-laden construct rather than a neutral, universal condition. It disrupts secular modernity in multiple ways—through Jacob, a mystical protector whose role frames the island as essential to the world’s stability, and through its perceived isolation, which strips away the usual structures that separate science from faith, forcing the survivors to engage with both.

It almost acts as a perfect example and a failed example of Asad’s analogy of secularism as a garden to be cultivated in a jungle. That is to say, secularism is a garden, an ordered, cultivated space that must be constantly maintained against the perceived chaos of the jungle, or religious and “non-rational” forces (Asad, 2003). Yet, on the island, this attempt at control repeatedly collapses, suggesting that the boundaries between science and faith, like those of secularism itself, are far more unstable than they first appear.

This island is also a place where agency—or, in the show’s case, in plainer words, fate and free will—is challenged: How do I reconcile with being stuck on this island? How do I know what to believe? Why are we stuck here? What are ways in which I could leave? Why do I need to go back? Do I have to consider becoming the Protector of this place, thus making it my main focus even though I was once so desperate to leave?

Even when the Oceanic Six do leave the island and return to the real world, this world, which is modern and secular, insists on rational explanations for events the survivors understand as supernatural. This is a clear example of Asad’s idea of secularism’s regulatory power.

And, when they enter the flash-sideways/alternate/purgatory world, this could be an example of an ultimate collapse of these epistemological boundaries—science, faith, and narrative authority dissolve into a post-secular reality where knowledge is experiential and relational rather than objective. Characters must "let go" of their attachments before moving on, similar to religious ideas of reaching enlightenment or heaven. But the fact that this world is not "real" raises questions about interpretations of the afterlife—is salvation a metaphysical truth, or just another constructed reality?

Conclusion:

This show is, to put it mildly, absolutely wild. There is so much packed into it, and it goes every which direction it might go (or at least, that the writers allowed). It can be very profound at times and has impacted thousands of people for thousands of reasons.

That being said, there are heavy themes of secularism and religion, especially the discourse between them, present throughout the series. To reiterate, both main and side characters grapple with profound personal struggles at the intersection of these worldviews, manifesting in a diverse spectrum of experiences. Narratives emanating from both secular and religious perspectives actively shape these characters, not only on an individual level but also as members of a complex, interconnected community. Even the very island itself, a liminal space where the boundaries of science and faith blur, becomes a potent site for this ongoing discourse. Beyond a mere backdrop, the island serves as a crucible, testing the limits of established epistemologies and revealing the constructed nature of our perceived realities. Through the characters' journeys, Lost compels us to reconsider the seemingly rigid binaries that define our understanding of knowledge, authority, and even destiny. Ultimately, the series transcends its genre, offering a nuanced exploration of how we construct meaning in a world where the rational and the mystical are inextricably intertwined, leaving us to ponder the enduring questions of belief, reason, and the very nature of truth itself.

By giving us these dramatizations of the secular and the religious, Lost not only exemplifies some of the ins and outs of both but also manages to critique them in ways that are similar to scholarly works. The show presents a world where epistemologies are historically contingent, socially constructed, and, in some cases, challenged. Through this lens, Lost becomes more than a survival mystery, it serves as a compelling exploration of the constructed nature of knowledge, challenging the rigid boundaries between secular and religious worldviews.

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If you want to read more about the intersections of secularism, religion, the colonial projects and more, I highly suggest reading: Tomoko Masuzawa’s “The Invention of World Religions,” Talal Asad’s “Formation of the Secular,” & “On Suicide Bombing,” “Objectivity” by Lorraine Daston and Peter Galison, Saba Mahmood's "Politics of Piety," and “The Book of Jerry Falwell” by Susan Friend Harding. I will say, however, that in terms of accessible readability, Harding’s work is the best, followed by Masuzawa’s, Daston’s, and Galison’s, Mahmood's, then Asad’s.

#lost tv show #abc lost #lost abc #anthropology #media studies #secularism #essay #essay writing #jack shephard #john locke #mr eko #richard alpert #dharma initiative #character study #character analysis #analysis

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