It was 1976. Most of America was wearing bell-bottoms and obsessing over the Bicentennial, but a guy with a goatee and knickers was staring at the crumbling foundation of Western civilization. That man was Francis Schaeffer. He released a book and a ten-part film series titled How Should We Then Live?, and honestly, it hit the evangelical world like a freight train. He wasn't just talking about Sunday school stories. He was talking about art, philosophy, music, and how a society's worldview determines whether it thrives or eventually cannibalizes itself.
Look.
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If you’ve ever felt like the world is getting weirder and you can’t quite put your finger on why the "vibes" of modern culture feel so fractured, Schaeffer basically predicted this fifty years ago. He traced the history of the West from the Roman Empire through the Renaissance and into the modern era, arguing that once you remove a fixed base for truth, everything else—law, art, human rights—starts to float away. It’s heavy stuff, but he made it accessible.
The Core Argument of How Should We Then Live Francis Schaeffer
Schaeffer’s big idea was that people don't just do things for no reason. Everything is downstream from what you believe about reality. If you believe we are just highly evolved machines, your laws will eventually reflect that. If you believe there is a "Personal-Infinite" God (his favorite term), then human life has inherent dignity that the state can’t touch.
He focused heavily on the "line of despair."
This is where it gets interesting. Schaeffer argued that for a long time, philosophers and artists believed they could find a unified answer for life through reason. But eventually, they hit a wall. They realized that if you only have "nature," you have no way to explain "grace" or meaning. So, they crossed a line. They gave up on finding a rational answer for the big questions and moved into what he called the "upper story"—a place of non-rational experience, mysticism, or just pure feeling.
Think about modern art. Or music that purposefully avoids melody. To Schaeffer, these weren't just "creative choices." They were screams of despair from people who no longer believed the universe made sense. He saw it in the works of Salvador Dalí and heard it in the atonal compositions of Schoenberg. He wasn't being a "hater"; he was genuinely saddened by it. He saw a world losing its soul.
The Roman Collapse and the Modern Parallel
Schaeffer starts the book with Rome. Why? Because the Romans were practical. They had great roads and a massive army, but their gods were basically just amplified humans. When the pressure got too high, their internal foundation couldn't hold. They didn't have a "sufficient base" for their values.
He draws a pretty direct line to us.
If our only basis for law is the "statistical majority" or "what feels right today," then we have no protection against authoritarianism. Without a fixed point of reference—something outside of ourselves—the person with the most power gets to decide what is true. It’s a sobering thought. He warned that if we don't return to a biblical foundation, we’d end up with an "elite" or a "manipulative government" that provides "peace and affluence" at the cost of our freedom. Sound familiar?
Why the Art History Lesson Matters
You might wonder why a book about theology spends so much time talking about Leonardo da Vinci or the Dutch Masters. Schaeffer believed art is the "early warning system" of culture.
- The Renaissance: A shift toward man being the center of all things.
- The Reformation: A recovery of the idea that God spoke, giving us a basis for science and law.
- The Enlightenment: The attempt to keep the morality of the Bible while throwing out the God of the Bible. (Spoiler: Schaeffer says this never works for long.)
He pointed out that early scientists like Newton and Copernicus were able to do science because they believed in a "Lawgiver." They expected to find order in nature because they believed an intelligent mind put it there. Today, we often take that order for granted, but Schaeffer argues we are living on "borrowed capital." We are using the fruits of a worldview we no longer believe in.
The Problem of "Peace and Affluence"
One of the most biting parts of How Should We Then Live? is Schaeffer’s critique of the average person’s priorities. He said most people only care about two things: personal peace and affluence.
Personal peace means just being left alone. "Don't bother me with the world's problems; just let me live my life in my little bubble."
Affluence means an ever-increasing standard of living. More stuff. More comfort.
He warned that a society obsessed with these two things will happily hand over its liberties to a strongman or a technocracy as long as the checks keep clearing and the internet stays on. He saw a future where "manipulation" (through media or psychology) would replace overt force. He didn't think we'd see tanks in the streets as much as we'd see people being nudged and conditioned to accept a loss of humanity.
The Human Side of Francis Schaeffer
We can talk about his books all day, but Schaeffer wasn't just some academic in an ivory tower. He lived in a place called L'Abri in the Swiss Alps. People from all over the world—hippies, travelers, students, skeptics—would show up at his door. They’d sit around a table, eat together, and ask the hardest questions imaginable.
He took people seriously.
If someone had an intellectual objection to Christianity, he didn't give them a canned answer. He’d spend hours, sometimes days, walking through the logic of their own worldview until they saw where it led. He believed that "honest questions deserve honest answers." This wasn't about winning arguments; it was about "loving the person enough to tell them the truth."
Criticisms and Nuance
Now, to be fair, not everyone loves Schaeffer's work.
Historians sometimes complain that he paints with a brush that's way too broad. They’ll say he oversimplifies complex eras like the Middle Ages or misinterprets specific artists. And yeah, when you're trying to cover 2,000 years of history in one book, you’re going to miss some nuance. Some critics argue he was too pessimistic about modern culture, failing to see the "common grace" in secular movements.
But even his critics usually admit that his central thesis—that ideas have consequences—is hard to argue with. You can't just change the fundamental "why" of a society and expect the "what" to stay the same forever.
Applying Schaeffer to the 21st Century
So, how then shall we live?
If we take Schaeffer's insights seriously, it changes how we view our daily lives. It means we stop being passive consumers of culture and start being critical thinkers. We start asking, "What is this movie actually saying about what it means to be human?" or "What is the underlying philosophy behind this new law?"
It also means realizing that "truth" isn't just a set of facts. It's something that has to be lived out. Schaeffer talked about "the beauty of a human relationship" being one of the greatest arguments for the existence of God. If we say we believe in the dignity of the individual but treat people like garbage on social media, we are proving that our worldview is just words.
Actionable Next Steps
If this has sparked something in you, don't just let the tab sit open.
- Watch the series. The How Should We Then Live? film series is available online (often for free on YouTube or through various ministries). Yes, the 1970s aesthetic is strong, and the music is very "of its time," but the content is eerily relevant.
- Audit your "Upper Story." Think about the things you believe that you can't actually prove with science—like the idea that human rights are real or that love is more than just a chemical reaction. Schaeffer would encourage you to ask where those ideas come from and if your current worldview can actually support them.
- Read the book slowly. Don't rush through it. Use it as a guide to look up the artists and philosophers he mentions. See if you agree with his assessment of them.
- Practice "Substantial Healing." This was a big Schaeffer concept. He knew we wouldn't have a perfect world, but he believed we should work for "substantial" healing in our relationships, our environment, and our communities. Pick one area where things are broken and try to bring a little bit of order and beauty back into it.
Schaeffer’s work is ultimately a call to wake up. It’s a reminder that we aren't just accidents of evolution drifting in a meaningless void. We are significant because we were made by someone significant. And because of that, how we live actually matters. It’s not just about surviving or getting a bigger house; it’s about aligning our lives with what is actually true.
The questions he asked in 1976 haven't gone away. If anything, they're louder now. We are still deciding what kind of foundation we want to build our future on. Hopefully, we're paying better attention this time around.
Key takeaway: Francis Schaeffer's How Should We Then Live? isn't just a history book; it's a diagnostic tool for understanding why modern culture feels so fragmented and a roadmap for finding our way back to a foundation of objective truth and human dignity.