A European study is reigniting a long-running debate: does a religious childhood help or harm mental health decades later? The answer, it turns out, is complicated — and smaller in magnitude than the headlines suggest.
What the new research actually found
A recent analysis of older Europeans reported that, on average, people who were raised with religious instruction rated their health slightly worse after age 50 than those who were not. The effect was modest — roughly a tenth of a point on a five-point scale — but statistically consistent across much of the sample. The study also reported small differences in mental and cognitive measures, again on average, not for everyone.
Crucially, the authors emphasized variability. The association was more negative for some groups and less so for others. In particular, the link appeared stronger among people who grew up with adverse family circumstances, such as a parent with mental health problems or heavy drinking. In other words, religious upbringing wasn’t a single, uniform experience with a single, uniform outcome.
Correlation is not destiny
Social scientists are quick to warn that correlation is not causation. People who are more likely to be religious as children often differ in important ways from those who are not — in income, geography, education, or exposure to stress and trauma. Those differences can echo across a lifetime and shape both health and how people evaluate it.
The new study tried to probe those layers by looking at moderating factors. Childhood adversity amplified the negative association, hinting that the broader family environment — not doctrine alone — may matter most. The patterns also shifted depending on adult behavior: the negative link was stronger among those who said they pray but do not attend a religious organization later in life, suggesting a form of private devotion without the buffering effects of community.
Religious upbringing is not a single treatment; it is a tapestry of family dynamics, community ties, teachings, and life stress — and each thread can pull the mind in a different direction.
Self-rated health: soft measure, strong signal
At first glance, “self-rated health” might sound squishy. Yet decades of epidemiology show that a person’s global assessment of their own health is a surprisingly robust predictor of future outcomes, including mortality. In mental health research, self-report is not only common but indispensable; what people feel and say about their mood, stress, and cognitive difficulties is central to diagnosis and care.
That said, the metric has limits. Expectations, cultural norms, and religious beliefs can color how people judge their well-being. A strict moral framework may heighten guilt and self-criticism for some; for others, it might encourage gratitude, hope, and resilience. The same sermon can land differently in two households — and become indistinguishable in a single averaged effect size.
The wider evidence: clear benefits, mixed trade-offs
The new findings do not erase a large literature linking religion with certain health advantages, particularly when participation is active and communal. A 2019 global analysis by the Pew Research Center, for example, found that in many countries actively religious people were more likely than others to describe themselves as “very happy,” and they tended to smoke and drink less than their peers. Pew also reported “no clear connection” between religiosity and the likelihood of reporting “very good” overall health across most countries, underscoring how uneven the picture can be from one outcome to the next.
Community appears to matter. Regular attendance and volunteering can provide social support, a sense of purpose, and norms that discourage risky behavior. Those are well-known ingredients in healthier aging. Private prayer without community, by contrast, may leave some older adults isolated with their worries — a pattern the new study flagged as a potential risk signal rather than a protective one.
What kind of religious upbringing are we talking about?
Religious childhoods are not monolithic. They range from gentle traditions that emphasize grace and curiosity to rigid systems that center on fear, shame, and strict obedience. Psychology of religion research has long distinguished between “intrinsic” faith — deeply internalized and oriented toward meaning and ethics — and “extrinsic” religiosity, which treats religion more as a tool for status, security, or social belonging. Studies often find that the intrinsic orientation tracks with better psychological outcomes than the extrinsic.
Intensity and content matter too. A family that frames missteps as moral failure can foster chronic guilt; one that frames them as learning can nurture resilience. A congregation that encourages service and friendship can widen a child’s world; one that discourages questions can narrow it. Without measuring these nuances, any single average effect risks flattening a diverse landscape.
How parents, educators, and faith leaders can use this
Whether secular or religious, adults who shape children’s lives can reduce risk and preserve benefits by focusing on the climate of belief, not just the content. The research points toward choices that support healthy development across worldviews.
- Favor autonomy-supportive teaching over fear-based discipline. Encourage questions, model humility, and allow room for doubt without shaming.
- Build community. Regular, prosocial engagement — from youth groups to service projects — can counter isolation and strengthen protective social ties.
- Teach mental health literacy alongside moral education. Normalize conversations about anxiety, depression, and stress; know when and how to seek professional help.
- Avoid global shame. Separate behavior from identity and emphasize repair, responsibility, and forgiveness — themes present in many traditions.
- Watch for “pray but don’t participate” patterns in older adults. Offer low-barrier, welcoming ways to reconnect socially.
What researchers should examine next
The new study advances the conversation by looking across countries and probing subgroup differences, but it also highlights what’s missing. Future work can measure the quality of religious socialization (supportive vs. punitive), differences across denominations and traditions, and the role of intensity and age-of-exposure. It can also test whether changes in belonging — leaving, returning, or switching communities — alter the long-term trajectories the study detected.
Methodologically, combining large, multi-country surveys with natural experiments, longitudinal designs, and qualitative interviews could clarify causal pathways. The goal isn’t to crown religion good or bad for mental health. It’s to understand which elements help, which harm, and for whom.
The bottom line
On average, a religious upbringing in Europe is associated with slightly poorer self-rated health in older age. The difference is small, and it is not universal. It appears strongest where childhood adversity is high and where adult religious life is solitary rather than communal. Set against broader evidence that communal religious participation can boost happiness and curb certain risky behaviors, the emerging picture is one of trade-offs shaped by context.
If there is a single takeaway for families and communities, it’s this: the manner of belief — how it is taught, lived, and supported — may matter more than belief itself. That insight offers a practical path forward no matter where one stands on faith.
