Introduction And there it was again: the whole notion of "nothing." It came at me twice in the same week, and from two different people. The first time it came up was with Jill. We were standing and talking on the curb outside the studio where her son and my son both take cello lessons. Jill is in her early forties, from San Francisco, and she recently sold her modern furniture store in order to be at home more with her kids. We often chitchat when cello lessons are over and our sons are busy playing in the nearby bushes. The other day as we were talking, religion came up. That was when Jill expressed what I've heard so many times before: "I just don't want my kids to be ‘nothing.

'" Jill is one of tens of millions of Americans who are nonreligious. Her mom was Buddhist and her dad was Catholic, and she was raised with a fair amount of both traditions. But by the time she got to college, she knew that she didn't believe in God. Sure, maybe there's something more out there--who can say? But religion just wasn't her thing. Her husband felt the same way. And all was fine for several years. But lately, with her kids being three and six, things have somehow started to feel different. Jill is a little worried.

She told me that she was considering sending her kids to some church, perhaps the local Catholic church. But I could tell that she was conflicted. When I asked her why she was contemplating sending her kids to church if she didn't feel 100 percent about it, she said, "I want them to get some morals. I think that's important." "But your children can develop a healthy, durable morality without religion," I replied. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But still ." Being a secular parent myself, and having studied the hills and dales of secular culture for some time now, I know what gnaws at Jill.

I'm quite familiar with the angst that many such secular Americans experience: the feeling that maybe one is making a mistake by raising one's kids without religion. Even though Jill is living a meaningful, thoughtful, and ethical life without religious faith or affiliation, she nonetheless feels that if she doesn't impart some sort of religious identity to her kids--if they lack religious involvement--then they will be . nothing . Oh, and immoral to boot. A few days later, the matter of "nothing" confronted me again. This time it came from a religious woman. Her name is Beverly. She is in her late sixties.

She describes herself as "just Christian." We met at a picnic being thrown by mutual friends at a park near Pasadena. She asked me what I did for a living. I said that I was a professor at a small liberal arts college. She then told me that she was the programming director at the religious center of a large university, a place where students from all walks of faith can find community, attend services, meet with clergy, and so on. Beverly loves her job. She helps arrange religious events, she coordinates panels and discussions, she sets up volunteering and charitable opportunities, among other things. When Beverly asked me what I studied, I said, "Secular people.

" Pause. "You know," I continued, "people who live their lives without religion." And then she calmly replied, "Well, without religion, you've got nothing." Now, mind you, there was nary of hint of snark or derogatoriness in her comment. It was said kindly and openly, a genuine expression of this woman's lived experience, inner faith, and personal orientation. To Beverly, life without religious faith and involvement would be empty, desultory. This association of secularity with nothingness runs deep. Many people assume that a life lived without religion is not only somewhat void, but intrinsically problematic.

After all, how does one deal with death without religion? How does one cope with life's troubles? Develop morals and ethics? Find community? Experience a sense of transcendence? These are extremely fair questions. And yet the idea that religion is the best and/or only option out there when dealing with such matters is simply untenable. The glaring truth is that millions of people live their lives without religion--and they do so quite well. They aren't living aimlessly, adrift in a vacuum of nihilistic nothingness. Jill may not know it, or she may not conceive of it in terms of clearly articulated precepts, but her secular lifestyle is actually very moral and deeply grounded in ethical conduct. How she interacts with those around her on a daily basis, the choices that she makes as a mother, wife, neighbor, businesswoman, and citizen, and the ways she reacts to and appreciates the world around her--all of these are linked to developing and expressing an empathetic spirit, caring about others and the wider world, being responsible and upstanding. And they are very much linked to the secular sensibility. For as the stories of the many nonreligious men and women presented in this book will illustrate, there are actually specific key virtues of secular living, and prominent pillars of secular culture, that enhance moral rectitude and promote human decency.

As for Beverly, while I didn't want to get into it at the picnic, what I would want her to know is that religion is definitely not the only avenue for people to live good, meaningful, or inspired lives. There are other, secular options. A life lived without religion is not "nothing." There are common attributes, characteristics, traits, and values one finds among nonreligious people, and within secular culture, that directly enhance individuals' ability to cope with life's troubles, allow for moments of fulfillment and existential awe, and even increase societal well-being. Indeed, the foundational components of a secular orientation are both abundant and laudable: from encouraging pragmatic, reasonable problem solving to fortifying oneself against groupthink and a herd mentality, from deepening our attachment to the people and things of this world to sparking a soulful appreciation for the majesty of nature, from encouraging scientific inquiry to manifesting a humane empathy, from fostering a mature morality to engendering a serene acceptance of mortality, secularity offers individuals a rich, proud wellspring of both wisdom and wonder. And as the many men and women you'll meet in the pages that follow will attest to, being secular is an affirming worldview and positive, purposeful life stance. What it means to be secular--and the cardinal virtues of secular living--are thus deeply important matters to recognize and understand, and their importance is all the more timely given that the number of nonreligious Americans is precipitously rising. Indeed, the recent spike of secularity has been a truly remarkable phenomenon, unprecedented in our nation's history.

-- BACK IN THE 1950s, fewer than 5 percent of Americans were nonreligious. By the 1990s, that figure was up to 8 percent. Then it jumped to 14 percent in 2001, 16 percent in 2010, 19 percent in 2013, and as of the latest national surveys, it is up to 30 percent today. This means that the number of nonreligious Americans has increased by well over 200 percent over the last twenty-five years, making it the fastest-growing "religious" orientation in the country. More than a third of Americans between the ages of eighteen and twenty-nine now claim to be nonreligious. In the early 1970s, only 9 percent of Americans said that they never attended religious services; today, nearly 25 percent say as much. And there are currently more people in this country who were raised in secular homes--without any religion--than there are African Americans. Such a surge of people eschewing religion is truly remarkable, and helps explain why Time magazine recently cited the dramatic increase of Americans claiming "none" as their religion as one of the ten most significant trends changing American society.

I am fascinated by this trend. And in my work as a sociologist and professor of secular studies, I have sought to thoroughly explore secular people's approaches to life, to probe the ramifications of their worldviews and perspectives, and to shine a light on their experiences, joys, and challenges. I've done all of this with an eye toward connecting such information to the broader social scene, both here in America and in the world at large. My primary investigative method has been to conduct in-depth interviews with nonreligious people from all over the country and from all walks of life, representing a variety of races, ethnic groups, ages, occupations, sexualities, and class backgrounds. And I've purposely sought out people exhibiting a wide array of secular orientations, from the firmly convinced to the mildly befuddled, from the staunchly atheistic to the serenely indifferent. I've interviewed people who have devoted their lives to secularism as well as people who have hardly given it a thought prior to our discussion, and many others in between such extremes. I have found my interviewees through every imaginable channel: by searching secularist Web sites to find potential informants, by going to humanist gatherings of various shapes and sizes and getting to know the people involved, by pursuing individuals I've come in contact with at various conferences, by tracking down people from stories I've read in the newspapers, and by pursuing any and all leads that come my way via professional and personal c.