A journey to communicate science and religion

Dear Engineer,

Let us slow the lens and examine class insulation and boundary maintenance not as incidental sociological features, but as active epistemic technologies—quiet, habitual, and therefore powerful. What appears on the surface as taste, professionalism, or “reasonable discourse” is, on closer inspection, a finely tuned system for regulating who may speak as a knower and under what conditions.

In Pakistan’s secular-liberal elite, class insulation is not merely economic privilege; it is infrastructural privilege. It is access to particular schools, languages, journals, fellowships, passports, and moral vocabularies. These infrastructures do more than distribute opportunity; they standardize cognition. They train the subject in what counts as evidence, which affects are permissible in public speech, and which metaphysical commitments must be backgrounded to avoid reputational friction.

Crucially, this insulation is self-concealing. It presents itself as meritocratic neutrality. Yet the very markers of “merit” are class-encoded: fluency in English idioms of critique, familiarity with Western canonical debates, comfort with NGO and legalistic grammars, and the ability to aestheticize suffering without being destabilized by it. Religion, when present, is tolerated only in symbolic dilution: as poetry, private solace, ethical ornament, or nostalgic culture. Once it reappears as a source of public reasoning, it is read as a breach of protocol.

Boundary maintenance enters precisely here.

Boundaries are not enforced primarily through explicit exclusion. They are enforced through soft disqualification. The religiously grounded speaker is not told, “You do not belong.” Instead, they are told, implicitly and repeatedly, “Your contribution is interesting, but not quite rigorous,” or “Your intentions are sincere, but your framework is problematic.” The critique rarely engages substance; it questions tone, framing, or implications. This is not intellectual disagreement; it is epistemic probation.

What is being policed is not belief, but epistemic posture.

The secular-liberal elite maintains its boundaries by upholding a narrow template of the “responsible public subject.” This subject is ironic rather than reverent, critical rather than committed, fluent in suspicion but uneasy with conviction. Strong metaphysical commitments are seen as liabilities because they introduce non-negotiable reference points—truths that cannot be endlessly bracketed or relativized. Such commitments threaten the elite’s primary currency: interpretive flexibility.

Here class becomes decisive. The elite can afford flexibility because their material security does not depend on moral absolutes. Their social capital is portable; their safety nets are transnational. For communities whose dignity, survival, or memory are bound to religious frameworks, faith is not optional cognition. It is structural meaning. When such faith enters elite spaces, it is misrecognized as stubbornness or naivety, rather than as a rational adaptation to historical vulnerability.

This misrecognition is the core of liberal Islamophobia in its classed form.

It is not hatred of Muslims as people. It is distrust of non-elite religiosity as a mode of knowing. The fear is not that religion is false, but that it is unruly—that it cannot be easily managed by the elite’s discursive protocols. A religiously observant minority intellectual who speaks in the language of ethics, history, and systems thinking while remaining anchored in faith represents a category error the system struggles to process.

Hence the pressure to assimilate.

Assimilation here does not mean abandoning faith outright. It means re-encoding faith into elite-legible forms: abstract ethics instead of divine command, cultural identity instead of truth claims, spirituality instead of law, symbolism instead of obligation. The moment one insists on faith as normatively binding rather than expressively optional, boundary alarms are triggered.

What makes this particularly corrosive is that the process is often framed as benevolence. The elite believes it is protecting public reason, safeguarding minorities, or preventing extremism. Yet functionally, it reproduces a hierarchy in which only certain classes may speak with metaphysical confidence, while others must translate themselves into a sanitized idiom to be heard.

From a civic epistemology perspective, this is a classic case of boundary work masquerading as universalism.

The rules are presented as neutral, but they are selectively burdensome. Those already socialized into elite grammars experience them as natural. Those outside experience them as erasure. Over time, this produces self-censorship, fragmentation of identity, and the internalization of epistemic inferiority—effects no less damaging for being polite.

A brief counter-view deserves acknowledgment. One might argue that such boundary maintenance is necessary in a fragile polity: that elite insulation prevents the capture of public discourse by demagogic religiosity, conspiracy, or mob affect. There is truth here. All epistemic communities require norms. The failure lies not in having boundaries, but in refusing to interrogate whose boundaries they are, and whom they systematically exclude.

Healthy civic epistemologies revise their norms in response to morally serious anomalies. Your position is precisely such an anomaly.

The deeper implication is this: class insulation, once established, tends to confuse its own survival with the survival of reason itself. Any challenge to its epistemic authority is experienced not as disagreement, but as regression. This is how elites become brittle—not through malice, but through overidentification with their own grammar.

Your task, then, is not to beg entry or to wage frontal assault. It is to model an alternative elite formation: one that is rigorous without being condescending, faithful without being coercive, and pluralistic without demanding self-erasure. When such models persist, boundary maintenance loses its moral credibility.

History is unkind to insulated elites. It is kinder to those who learn, belatedly, that epistemic humility is not a concession, but a condition of durability.

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