Inherit the Wind takes its title from a Bible verse – “He that troubleth his own house shall inherit the wind: and the fool shall be servant to the wise in heart” (Proverbs 11:29) – and the verse makes an apt choice for this 1955 play by Jerome Lawrence and Robert E. Lee. For this play denounces those who would “trouble their own house” in order to achieve political ends, particularly when such people – even if with the best of intentions – threaten the freedom of the human mind.
Inherit the Wind dramatizes the 1925 Scopes trial, in which a teacher was prosecuted for violating a Tennessee law that banned the teaching of evolution in the state’s public schools. At the same time, it spoke to the intellectual-freedom controversies of its own era, denouncing the McCarthyism of the 1950’s; and it continues to be relevant in our era, every time politicians take it upon themselves to “protect public morality” by dictating what can or cannot be taught in a public-school classroom.
Jerome Lawrence and Robert Edwin Lee were Ohioans who formed a writing partnership early in their careers, and who were instrumental in the formation of Armed Forces Radio during the Second World War. Having done a great deal of writing for AFR during the World War II era, to remind American soldiers of the democratic values for which the United States of America was fighting, Lawrence and Lee were appalled to see those same democratic values under assault at home, years after the war, by Senator Joseph McCarthy and his minions on the House Un-American Activities Committee; and Inherit the Wind struck a chord among playgoers, and later moviegoers, who saw that a rabble-rousing “anti-communist” senator like McCarthy could be, in his own way, just as much a threat to democracy as a Nazi or Soviet dictator.
In real life, the Scopes trial took place at Dayton, Tennessee. John Scopes was the defendant - a teacher who had planned deliberately to break the anti-evolution “Butler Law,” as a way of challenging the law in the legal system. Two famed veteran attorneys – William Jennings Bryan and Clarence Darrow – came to Dayton to plead the cases of the prosecution and defense respectively. Journalist H.L. Mencken of the Baltimore Evening Sun was the most famous of the reporters who came to Dayton to cover a trial that created national and international interest. And against a carnival-like atmosphere, with parts of the trial actually taking place outdoors, Bryan and Darrow thundered away at each other – the former presenting himself as a champion of traditional Bible godliness, the latter defending the rights to free speech and free thought.
Inherit the Wind takes place in a town called Hillsboro, in an unnamed Southern state. The play’s fictive Scopes is one Bertram T. Cates – a likeable enough young man, and a hitherto well-regarded Hillsboro teacher, who has incurred the wrath of his conservative religious community by teaching Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution, in violation of a newly passed state law that specifically forbids the teaching of any theory that contradicts the Biblical account of creation.
Cates’s unhappy fiancée Rachel, who loves Cates and simply wants them to be able to start their life together as husband and wife, asks him, at the Hillsboro jail before the trial, why he has felt compelled to talk about Darwin’s book, and Cates’s reply foreshadows how the play will emphasize issues of intellectual freedom, as he says of Darwin’s theory that “All it says is that man wasn’t just stuck here like a geranium in a flower pot; that living comes from a long miracle, it didn’t just happen in seven days” (p. 8).
Cates’s powerful statement reminds the reader of the intellectual and theological context within which the Butler Law was passed and the Scopes Trial unfolded. Among Christians of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, there was strong disagreement between modernists and traditionalists. Modernists held that the Bible could be read in a metaphorical manner that would not contradict the findings of modern science; traditionalists, by contrast, insisted that every word of the Bible had to be accepted as actual, literal truth – including the belief that the world was created in six 24-hour days.
The insistence of the traditionalists on literal reading of the Bible may seem strange, considering how often Jesus of Nazareth spoke in parables – but the history of this dispute reminds the reader of an important point. The legislators who passed the Butler Law – like the officials who go after Bertram Cates in Inherit the Wind – weren’t just advocating for Christianity, as they would no doubt have claimed; rather, they were seeking to push one particular version of Christianity, one that they believed would push a changing society back onto a more traditional path. Their goals were fundamentally political, not religious.
What is past is prologue.
The play’s William Jennings Bryan is Matthew Harrison Brady, who, because he will be prosecuting Bertram Cates, is greeted by the people of Hillsboro as a conquering hero. A much less friendly reception awaites the play’s H.L. Mencken – one E.K. Hornbeck of the Baltimore Herald. Hornbeck gleefully announces to the distinctly hostile Hillsboro crowd that his newspaper will be paying for Cates to be defended by the play’s Clarence Darrow – Henry Drummond, a Chicago lawyer renowned for both his religious skepticism and his willingness to take on high-profile, controversial cases. When Drummond arrives in the town, Hornbeck greets him with the words, “Hello, Devil. Welcome to Hell.”
Lawrence and Lee’s emphasis on the idea that there are always social forces that threaten intellectual freedom, and that must be resisted, comes through in passages of dialogue like this one, between Drummond and the trial’s judge – who has repeatedly made clear that he sympathizes with Brady and the prosecution:
DRUMMOND: I am trying to establish, Your Honor, that Howard – or Colonel Brady – or Charles Darwin – or anyone in this courtroom – or you, sir – has the right to think!
JUDGE: Colonel Drummond, the right to think is not on trial here.
DRUMMOND (Energetically): With all respect to the bench, I hold that the right to think is very much on trial! It is fearfully in danger in the proceedings of this court!
BRADY: A man is on trial!
DRUMMOND: A thinking man! And he is threatened with fine and imprisonment because he chooses to speak what he thinks. (p. 71)
The climax comes when Drummond – denied the opportunity to call to the witness stand philosophers, theologians, and other thinkers who would have presented the modernist argument that one can reconcile the Christian faith with modern science – calls Brady to the stand, as an expert on the Bible. Invoking the story of Joshua making the sun stand still, Drummond gets Brady to admit that the first day of creation could have been 25 rather than 24 hours – “You interpret that the first day recorded in the Book of Genesis could have been of indeterminate length” (p. 96) – and then moves in for the kill: “It could have been thirty hours! Or a month! Or a year! Or a hundred years!...Or ten million years!” (p. 97)
Checkmate.
Brady’s excitable assistant tries to intervene – “I protest! This is not only irrelevant, immaterial – it is illegal!” (p. 97) – but the damage is done. The internal contradictions of Brady’s literalist approach to Scripture have been exposed. One cannot claim that an all-powerful God can transform natural law at will – by, for example, making a single day longer than 24 hours – and then say in the next breath that God is bound by the limits of a 24-hour day.
I have returned to Inherit the Wind at a number of times in my life – either the Lawrence & Lee play, or Stanley Kramer’s excellent 1960 film adaptation, with Spencer Tracy as Drummond and Fredric March as Brady. And always, it seems, I find that I am returning to it when some zealous group of citizens is trying to dictate what can or cannot be taught in schools.
I came back to it in 2005, at the time when the school board in Dover, Pennsylvania, tried to dictate that science teachers in the district would have to teach the religion-based doctrine of “intelligent design” in science classes, right alongside Darwinian theories of evolution and natural selection. In Kitzmiller vs. Dover Area School District (2005), Judge John E. Jones, a conservative Republican appointed to the bench by then-President George W. Bush, ruled against the school board’s “intelligent design” argument – and, for good measure, added that “It is ironic that several of these individuals, who so staunchly and proudly touted their religious convictions in public, would time and again lie to cover their tracks and disguise the real purpose behind the ID [Intelligent Design] policy.” Henry Drummond would no doubt have approved of the judge's frankness.
I returned to Inherit the Wind once again, around the year 2020, as legislators in a number of states have moved to ban the teaching of “critical race theory” in their schools. Once again, the response of some people to a threatening line of reasoning seems to be to ban it from being taught. Do these people have so little faith in the ability of young people to reason for themselves, and to discern between good ideas and bad ones?
“Critical race theory,” in the context of these political debates - putting aside for the moment the fact that this concept is not taught in K-12 public schools, and is usually reserved for law-school curricula or Ph.D. seminars - is usually defined pretty vaguely; for some of these legislators, it seems to mean “anything that theoretically might make some white Americans feel bad about themselves.” As I understand it, CRT holds that there is something structural or systemic about racism in America – that it is not simply a matter of bad racist choices being made by individual racist people. That kind of claim is a topic worth debating – not a taboo that must be banned from the realm of what is thinkable and discussable.
And I will be the first to say that there are areas of CRT with which I would disagree. In a perceptive essay in the Los Angeles Review of Books, literature professor Robert S. Levine of the University of Maryland points out how a couple of prominent CRT theorists have stated that “critical race theory questions the very foundations of the liberal order, including equality theory, legal reasoning, Enlightenment rationalism, and neutral principles of constitutional law”. These same scholars have questioned “liberalism as a framework for addressing America’s racial problems”, and have asserted that CRT theorists “are suspicious of another liberal mainstay, namely, rights”. And I could not disagree with such statements more.
To my mind, the liberal order – with its basis in Enlightenment rationalism – is all we’ve got. If we don’t believe in using reason to try to find our way to the truth – in all people being created equal, born with natural rights that cannot be taken away – in a legal system that at least aspires to equal treatment of all people – then what is left to us? Nothing, to my mind, but a social-Darwinian wasteland where rival groups fight tooth-and-nail, with power accruing to the winners and nothing left for the losers – a world, in short, much like what the CRT scholars cited above would presumably claim that they are fighting against.
Do I like those aspects of CRT? No. Does it follow from that that I don’t think CRT should be able to be taught? Of course not.
Whether one is dealing with the McCarthyism of the 1950's, or with the library-censorship efforts of groups like "Moms for Liberty" today, Inherit the Wind continues to remind us that education should be teaching young people - the leaders of the future - to think and decide for themselves. After all, the person who is going to take away our right to think and speak is always, ostensibly, our friend, labouring in the service of some great cause. They believe they are right, after all. But perhaps Henry Drummond is closer to the mark when he says that terms like “right” and “wrong” have relatively little meaning for him, and then adds, “But Truth has meaning – as a direction!”