How losing God made Britain miserable

Telegraph

18-05-2025

When Rabbi Dr Jonathan Romain led the Maidenhead Synagogue he made a decision: 'To put it crudely, I didn't sell God,' he says. 'I sold camaraderie.' He talks quickly, with absolutely no hesitation. He's proud of his decision, because it's what he saw people needed.
The result was a young atheist wicket-keeping for the synagogue's cricket team, and 140 people signed up to produce Fiddler On The Roof, no more than 10 of them worshippers.
'We re-orientated the synagogue from being a house of prayer to a community centre, and very consciously said being Jewish is not just about faith and belief. It's about community, belonging, a sense of purpose,' Romain, 70, an MBE who is now convenor of the Reform Beit Din (the Rabbinic court), explains. 'And that did the trick, frankly.'
His congregation grew from 72 families to 950, revealing what many were searching for: an answer to isolation, and an almost imperceptible yet grinding sense of disconnection fuelled by increasingly singular pursuits.
'There have been many benefits to the internet, but it means a lot of people working from home, shopping from home, and they just missed everyday contact. At the same time, village halls and pubs closing. We never neglected the prayer side,' he says. 'But we never made that the centre.'
Romain's decision and its positive results strike to the heart of one of the key findings of a new global survey led by Harvard academics, The Global Flourishing Study, published this week; that loss of religion and loss of fulfilment go hand in hand. Romain is quick to point to worship's communality as a driving reason why.
Across 22 countries in six continents, over 200,000 participants for five years, the research attempted to glean just who in the world actually feels content. In short, it's not the British. Of the 22 countries, the UK falls Number 20, with only Turkey and Japan below us.
Godlessness definitely has to be considered as a reason behind our misery, the report's authors suggest. Because while the questions asked of the survey's participants were varied, ranging from financial stability to physical health, sense of purpose to childhood experiences and relationships, they explain a widespread correlation that can undeniably be made between those nationalities who feel most fulfilled and those with the highest religious observance.
In Britain, statistics have captured our swerve of the Sunday service for decades. The census of Great Britain found the number of people attending Church of England Sunday prayers was close to four million in 1851, but by 1960 had slipped sharply to less than half that. By 2023 attendees counted just over 500,000.
The proportion of the population who say they have no religion also rises each decade, from 15 per cent in 2001 to 37 per cent in 2021.
Similarly Japan, whose primary religions are Shintoism and Buddhism, has seen a crash, from over 190 million religious adherents in 2013 to 163 million in 2022, according to Statista.
Meanwhile in Israel, which ranked second top in the Flourishing chart, 40 per cent of the Jewish population state they are religiously observant, while the majority of the largest religious minority Muslim population identify as religious.
It was Indonesia that capped the Flourishing list, a country with lower per capita income than Britain but higher levels of religious engagement.
'Religious service attendance was one of the factors most consistently associated with present or subsequent wellbeing, across countries and across outcomes,' the report, led by Prof Tyler VanderWeele, outlines.
It highlighted the 'declining religiosity of more economically advanced nations' suggesting: 'We may need a reconsideration of spiritual pathways to wellbeing.'
It makes absolute sense to Romain that what people are finding in religion to fulfil them is cricket, theatre, and tea-drinking – in other words, other people.
'I think most people define themselves through other people,' he says. Worship, he says, is 'a place where you're missed if you don't turn up. A lot of people think no one cares.'
The vicar of Roehampton in south west London, Rev Joshua Rey, 60, is also unsurprised at the findings. Fresh from evening prayers, he's to the point. 'The more I wander around the streets of Roehampton, the more I am pretty clear – in very broad brush terms – the explanation of our anxiety, distress, dismay and hopelessness in the face of the unparalleled prosperity and freedom we enjoy in this country is junk food, smartphones and the decline of organised religion,' he says. 'It's not that complicated.'
Yes, community is a big part of it, he nods. He's just been writing his sermon in The Angel pub (naturally). 'There's real community there and it has real value,' he says. But within Christianity he says, there is something more unique to be gained.
Being accepted without judgment is what makes the experience particularly beneficial. 'You're valued for who you are, rather than for any particular function you perform…,' he says. 'Obviously, sometimes human communities aren't all that they should be, but that's the basic notion.'
The clear pitfalls of organised religion are inarguable. In all religions there are repercussions to extreme and exploited dogma. But at the essence of what they teach is a roadmap for leading a fulfilling life, says Rey. 'The notion of living beyond yourself, living in a way that is giving.'
He stresses having a clear framework to follow is key to happiness. It helps when life becomes difficult. In his twenties, he was working in the city, an atheist, and unhappy. Finding belief has meant learning to live with integrity.
'Trying to live the Christian life is probably not a bad way to try and operate in accordance with the maker's instructions,' he explains. 'You get a complicated piece of machinery, you read up according to what the person who made it thinks.'
Although he adds it's not like 'operating a hoover'. 'It's more like learning to dance, but by paying attention to the teacher and dancing with them rather than just trying to make it up oneself.'
The benefit of knowing you're not dancing alone, being part of something larger, Romain agrees with. 'We are not an isolated speck of dust,' he describes.
As for Rey, for Imam Abdul Quddus Arif, the life of 'giving' through religion is particularly important for the young men he works with. At 35, he is exceptionally young for his role in Tilford, Surrey, but as director of youth for the Ahmadiyya Muslim Youth Association he's uniquely placed to understand why so many have diminished wellbeing.
Another key finding of The Global Flourishing Study was the lack of fulfilment within young people specifically. In Britain, those aged 18 to 24 were among those struggling the most. Previous studies have regularly shown younger age and older age being peak times of fulfilment.
Arif describes how many young people are discontented, feeling their futures are curtailed – they can't afford to study, or buy a house. 'This plays a role in someone feeling almost disconnected with what society is offering them,' he says.
He explains that Islam places importance not only on dedication to God, but to fellow citizens. 'That sense of… trying to help others, that's a really powerful reason why as Muslims we feel fulfilment.' So he gets young people living that way.
'Through tree planting, blood drives, feeding the homeless, charity runs. All these things demonstrate you're not just a number but an integral part of society.'
He adds religion also simply gets you out, which is catnip to wellbeing. '(In Islam) there are five prayers a man, especially an adolescent man, should go to the mosque to perform,' he explains. 'I know cases where because of mental health, people are just staying at home… Islam teaches, go out, go to the mosque five times, go socialise. It isn't just about praying to God, it's about seeing other people. That's such a powerful tool.'
Here, Arif's words meet Romain's and we're back to connection. This feels like the bottom line. Dr James Croft, the lead faith advisor at the University of Sussex naturally agrees as a Humanist.
'The research I've seen suggests a very religious hermit isn't getting much benefit from their religion in terms of human flourishing…but an atheist who's very connected to their community is having that benefit,' he says.
He agrees it's lack of connection which is causing problems, especially among young people. 'We are facing a crisis of community in the UK. It doesn't shock me enormously we haven't done particularly well in the rankings in this study,' he says. 'Partly because I think technological changes, the rise of social media, have changed people's socialising patterns. I see that every day, where it's a struggle to get students to socialise and build deep relationships.'
Rey insists there's more to it, though. He'd have stayed in The Angel, otherwise. Religion, he says – or at least the Christianity he speaks for – offers a definite; the definite of God's love. 'We are tapping into something that is bigger than we are,' he explains. That gives us perspective, but also freedom.
He uses the example of a particular train announcement. 'It says, 'We want our passengers to feel safe',' he describes. 'No – please make me actually safe. Church is about realities that go somewhat deeper and broader than how we feel,' he explains.
He sees members of his congregation without education, encouragement, love and hope revitalised by that knowledge to live with more confidence. 'I see it being liberating,' he says.