SHOCKING NEWS: Evangelical Christian author James Dobson died today and the tributes are pouring in. A legacy of hypocrisy — Talking about “family values” but promoting racism and praising Trump for adultery, betraying Christianity and using theology to cover up crimes…
The news of James Dobson’s death has shaken evangelical circles across America and beyond. Within hours of the announcement, tributes began flooding in from church leaders, conservative politicians, and Christian organizations, all praising him as a tireless defender of “family values” and the moral fabric of the nation. But beyond the flowery eulogies and sanitized obituaries, there lies a darker, far more uncomfortable truth about Dobson’s real legacy—one riddled with hypocrisy, political manipulation, and a disturbing betrayal of the very faith he claimed to represent.
Dobson rose to prominence as the founder of Focus on the Family, an organization that positioned itself as the guardian of traditional morality. His books and radio programs reached millions, shaping how generations of evangelicals thought about marriage, child-rearing, and faith. For decades, he preached the importance of strong families, sexual purity, and moral responsibility. To his supporters, Dobson was a prophet of order in a world that seemed increasingly chaotic. But to critics, he was something far more troubling—a political operative dressed in the robes of a preacher, a man who wielded theology not to heal or unite, but to divide and dominate.
One of Dobson’s most glaring contradictions was the way he applied his so-called values inconsistently, depending on the political context. In 2008, he publicly attacked then-Senator Barack Obama, calling him unfit for leadership and accusing him of distorting the Bible for political ends. The irony, of course, was that Obama embodied much of what Dobson claimed to admire: a devoted husband, a present father, and a man who carried himself with dignity. Yet Dobson vilified him, not because of his morality, but because his politics did not align with the evangelical right.
Contrast that with Dobson’s treatment of Donald Trump—a man who openly bragged about adultery, paid hush money to adult film stars, mocked the disabled, and reveled in cruelty. Rather than condemn Trump, Dobson rushed to his defense, describing him as a “baby Christian” who deserved compassion and loyalty. It was a breathtaking display of double standards. Where Obama’s stable family life earned scorn, Trump’s record of immorality and corruption was excused, even celebrated, as long as he delivered on policies that aligned with evangelical political goals. If there was ever a clear example of hypocrisy, this was it. Dobson showed the world that his “values” were negotiable, conditional, and ultimately disposable in the pursuit of power.
Beyond politics, Dobson’s rhetoric frequently aligned with exclusionary and harmful ideologies. His teachings on sexuality and gender often promoted intolerance, while his framing of Christianity was intertwined with a broader white evangelical nationalism. Critics argue that Dobson’s brand of faith was less about following the teachings of Christ and more about maintaining cultural dominance. His movement weaponized scripture to defend discriminatory policies, oppose civil rights for marginalized groups, and sustain systems of racial and social inequality. In doing so, Dobson betrayed the radical inclusivity of the Gospel and reduced Christianity to little more than a political tool.
For many who grew up under the shadow of Dobson’s influence, the scars run deep. His rigid prescriptions for family life created environments of fear rather than love, control rather than grace. Countless LGBTQ+ individuals, in particular, recall his teachings as a source of shame and rejection, often resulting in estrangement from their families or lasting psychological harm. Even today, his books and broadcasts are cited by parents and pastors to justify intolerance in the name of “faith.”
Yet despite these realities, the tributes pouring in will likely continue to paint him as a saint of the evangelical movement. This is the tragedy of Dobson’s passing: the myth of his moral clarity will be elevated, while the truth of his duplicity is brushed aside. To call him merely a preacher is to ignore the empire of political manipulation he built. To call him merely a defender of the family is to ignore the families he tore apart. And to call him a Christian leader is, for many, to insult the very meaning of Christianity itself.
James Dobson leaves behind a complicated and contested legacy. He will be remembered as a giant by those who worship power disguised as piety, and as a fraud by those who see Christianity as a faith of compassion, justice, and humility. His death is not just the end of an era but a reminder of the dangers that arise when religion is hijacked by politics and when faith becomes a mask for prejudice.
In the end, Dobson may have spoken endlessly about “family values,” but the values he truly served were political expediency, cultural dominance, and personal influence. His passing should spark not just nostalgia, but deep reflection. If his legacy teaches us anything, it is that words about morality mean nothing when they are used to excuse corruption, racism, and cruelty. Dobson’s story is not one of faithfulness—it is one of betrayal. And no flood of tributes can wash that truth away.
