Top 10 Reasons Why Religious Discrimination is Bad Business

With Indiana's recent legislation there's been a lot of discussion about these "religious protection" acts, both state and federal. Regardless of where you stand on Indiana's particular law, you may want to think twice before you rush to defend your religious beliefs in the business world. Why? Because it's bad business, and here's 10 reasons why, just in time for Top 10 Tuesday.

10. The threat of lawsuits

OK, this is probably the most obvious issue. When you discriminate, you are at risk for a lawsuit. The thing about the US legal system is that you can be sued by anyone for anything. And sure, maybe you were right, but do you really want to spend your time and money in court? Because even if the case gets dismissed, you’ll have to spend a lot more time than you anticipate in a courtroom.

9. The threat of bad publicity

We all, by now, know the sad story of the pizza business in Indiana that suffered so much bad publicity, from a hypothetical situation, no less, that they are going out of business. As businesses, we can’t live in fear, but we can take reasonable action to minimize the risk of bad PR.

8. Are you sure your beliefs teach what you think they do?

A few years ago there was a big stink about pharmacists refusing to dispense birth control. They argued that their religion prevented the use of birth control. Yet the Catholic church does not condemn the use of hormonal contraception for treatment of medical issues such as endometriosis. And of course, unless the pharmacist in question has access to the patient’s medical records, s/he does not know if the hormonal prescription is intended for contraception or medical treatment. Talk to your clergy about your concerns and make sure you are fully informed.

7. Are you sure of your customer's intention?

The pharmacy example illustrates this point as well. Pharmacists who were opposed to women having access to contraception demonstrated an ignorance of the other purposes of hormonal birth control. In fact, I used hormonal birth control for at least 10 years while I was a virgin. As in, not sexually active, not needing to prevent contraception, a virgin. If a pharmacist had refused to dispense birth control to me s/he would have absolutely been misinterpreting my intention. If you can’t be sure of the intention, then your discrimination is not only a mistake, it’s unwarranted.

6. Misunderstanding how religion, ethics, and business interact

Religion is meant to bring people together. Business is about delivering a product or service. We bring ethics to business in order to deliver the product or service in a way that is best for everyone involved. When we try to bring religion into business, things get messy, in no small part because of money. In Christianity, the primary goal is to love others. In business, the primary goal is to return money to the stockholders. Money and love can often be mutually exclusive. Yes, you want to act ethically. But that does not require you to bring your faith into the office.

5. Misunderstanding your target market

This is really simple. If you don’t want to work with the people who are coming into your business, then you are targeting the wrong people with your marketing. For example, if only men went into Victoria’s Secret, then Victoria’s Secret has failed their marketing.

4. Discrimination is not discernment

Yes, you can be selective in your clientele. But that selection needs to be based on how your product can improve their lives. No one's life is improved by judgment. If I believe a potential client is not a good fit, then of course I’m free not to work with her. But that belief should be based on whether the product I’m delivering is a solution to her needs, not whether I approve of how she lives. No man needs a bra from Victoria’s Secret, because men don’t have boobs, generally speaking. But if a transgender woman needs a bra for boobs, then Victoria’s Secret is a good fit and there’s no reason not to sell her the bra.

3. Stunted emotional and intellectual growth

Isolation leads to insularity, which can be deadly in this globally based world. Many people who condemn certain things, like homosexuality, smoking, daycare, divorce, or Islam, don’t actually know anyone who currently engages in those activities. Or they only know people who used to participate. I would challenge any business owner to build a friendship with a person you judge before making discrimination against that group company policy. Not only will you learn, you may even find ways to serve that group.

2. Distraction from your primary mission

As I mentioned before, businesses exist to serve products and services to others. Anything that prevents the serving of products and services, or anything that takes time away from serving products and services, is a distraction and a waste of resources.

1. Corrosive to yourself: As we judge others, we judge ourselves. As much as we fail to give grace to others, we fail ourselves, and ultimately, we will die from lack of grace.

F is for Friendship

I am both the best friend in the world and the worst friend in the world. Can anyone else relate to that?

In lots of ways, I know I’m a fantastic friend. I keep secrets like the grave, as long as I know it’s a secret! I can be really funny: if you need a laugh, I can generally provoke one. I don’t give advice (usually), unless you ask for it. And once I give my advice, if you choose not to take it, I’m not offended at all. Once you are a friend in my inner circle, I will do anything for you and I don’t need a reason. You want me to pick up a kid, bring you food, visit you in prison, whatever, if I can do it I will. I don’t require you to call me consistently, or talk to me every day (although I have a couple of friends I’m in daily contact with, as in: my inner circle).  I’m generally pretty tolerant of your views even if they differ from mine: I can laugh and nod at your stories even if I find them personally odd or weird. Because hey, I’m not you. On the other hand, if you ask, I’ll tell you honestly what I think.

But then again, I’m also a terrible friend. Ask anyone who used to be my friend and now lives in a different city from me. (No, don’t. Too embarrassing.) I’m absolutely lousy at staying in touch. The only long-distance friends I can maintain are the ones who can let months or years go by with little to no contact and then pick up the phone and chat with me as though things are the same. I’m terrible with birthdays: If I try really hard I can remember your birthday month, and that’s even WITH Facebook’s help. I don’t do gifts: no Christmas gifts, no birthday gifts, no little surprises. I’m also really busy, which means I’m not nearly as available to my friends as I’d like to be. I can’t do spontaneous: all my friend dates are scheduled in advance. I avoid conflict, which means that sometimes my friends who would benefit from some constructive criticism don't get it. And I'm not good at remembering friends' family members (including kids) unless I'm around them all the time. 

Now that I’m a working mom with an almost 4 year old, I’m very selective about my friendships. Maintaining my pre-baby friendships are challenging enough, although the people who were there for me the most are the ones I spend time with now. Making new friends is a challenge I’m not sure I’m even up for. After 40 years, I have a pretty full roster of friends at all levels.

And yet, friendship is probably one of the most important parts of my life. My friends are the ones who keep me going on down days. They are the ones who let me vent about my life, my extraordinary, amazingly fabulous life, without giving me guilt for complaining about blessings. They are the ones who bring food when I need it, or pick up my kid from school if necessary. They are the ones who pick me up from the airport and watch my cats and fulfill my need for intimacy with other women. I am richly blessed with friendships that I don't deserve. 

E is for Episcopalian

On Good Friday, I attended my new church's Stations of the Cross service. We stood outside, in a small garden, and recited the Lord's Prayer together as we began. Joining my voice with all the others reminded me forcibly of just one reason why I love the liturgy. In the Episcopalian church, we pray out loud in unison a lot. And here we were, doing it again. Hearing the mass of voices raise into the air, I felt at home. I knew that no matter what, I was in a community of people who shared this prayer. Our voices created unity despite our differences.

There are many things I love about liturgical churches in general, and the Episcopalian liturgy, found in the Book of Common Prayer, specifically. I love that I am given words for the holiest of mysteries. There is no awkwardness, no worries about a clergy member putting a foot in his mouth, because we all know the words. I love that within the language, we are allowed the luxury of thinking freely about the meaning. In the post-communion prayer there's a phrase I love: "you have graciously accepted us as living members of your Son our Savior Jesus Christ." The rich imagery of the language always thrills me. Best of all, no one dictates to me exactly what that means - to be a living member of Jesus Christ. In the Episcopalian tradition, the words are meant to leave wiggle room: to allow people to freely practice their faith according to their conscience: the Book of Common Prayer was deliberately written in the time of turmoil when the protestant movement was wrenching the Roman Catholic church apart. The Anglican church sought the "middle way." It was intentionally created to allow former Catholics and new Protestants to practice their faith together in unity.

I love that I don't have to manufacture feelings or search for words. We have a time of communal confession before we take the Eucharist, and then the rector absolves us all. I don't have to search my soul for any sin within me - I don't have to find an emotional response. Instead, I pay attention while I pray the confession prayer, bringing my intention to it. And then I am absolved, simply, without drama. The rector passes God's grace to me, no questions asked. In most of the non-liturgical churches I've attended, communion goes one of two ways: the presiding clergy gives a warning and there's a time of silence in which we prepare, or the presiding clergy gives an invitation and people are left to to wander up as they will. For someone with chronic anxiety (ME), that time before going up is fraught: did I confess everything? Am I holding a sin against my neighbor? Am I worthy to receive communion? But as an Episcopalian, I know with assurance that I am ready, that I am absolved, that I am worthy.

Another thing I love is the uniformity of the Book of Common Prayer. Every one has the same pagination. So the BCP I bought for myself almost 15 years ago has the exact same page numbers as the larger BCPs in the pews at my church. And the BCP my husband bought when we first came to St. Michael's also has the same page numbers. Very convenient!

While we only recently began attending an Episcopalian church, I've known for years that I would like to be here. I attended Episcopalian services while in college and loved them. I already mentioned that I bought my Book of Common Prayer when I was in my 20s because I loved the language and wanted to practice liturgical prayer on my own. (I didn't actually do it, because I wasn't sure where to begin, but the desire was there!) A few years ago, my husband and I attended a workshop with the enormously gifted Robert Benson, and received modified prayer books, which we both used. I'm thrilled every time I discover a phrase or prayer in the BCP that was in the Benson prayer book we used. When we realized it was time to find a new church, I knew I wanted to try Episcopalian churches specifically because they are socially liberal and concerned with social justice. And my husband was ready for the structure, simplicity, and beauty of the liturgy. It is home for our family.