From Island to Archipelago: Navigating Ireland’s Religious Landscape

The sociology of religion presents itself as a science: it uses established methods to gather and analyse data about beliefs, practices, and institutions. While there is always some interpretive ‘art’ involved, my role as a sociologist is primarily to observe, measure, and explain patterns in religious life, drawing on evidence to identify broader trends.
Until recently, Ireland stood out as an ‘island of faith’ within a secularised Europe. Today, it is clear that Christianity is declining. But it is also clear that religion hasn’t gone away.
I explore these transformations in my forthcoming book, An Island of Faith? Religions and Change in Ireland, North and South (with Caoimhe Ní Dhónaill, Oxford University Press, 2027). Secularisation has been visible for decades, but the Covid-19 pandemic (2019–2023) confirmed and, in some ways, accelerated it.
In place of what was once a broadly shared and practising Christian culture, what has emerged is better described as an ‘archipelago of religion’ (Hervieu-Léger 1993): a landscape made up of smaller, more diverse, and unevenly distributed ‘islands of faith.’
This archipelago is characterised by what I call secularisation with intensification. By this I mean two processes happening at once: a continued decline in overall religious participation and authority, alongside a deepening of religious commitment among some groups. On some ‘islands,’ faith is expressed through private or small-scale but intense devotion. On others, believers feel called to bring religion into public debates, making their faith more visible in wider society.
This is a profound shift: Ireland is no longer a ‘island of faith’, but an archipelago landscape characterised by diversity, fragmentation, and uneven religious vitality.

Measuring Secularisation

Secularisation in Ireland has been both rapid and relatively recent. For much of the twentieth century, religion—especially Catholicism in the Republic—was deeply embedded in public life. Churches shaped education, healthcare, and moral norms, and high levels of attendance reflected a shared Christian culture.
In Northern Ireland, religion was also central, closely tied to political identity and the divisions of the Troubles. Since the 1990s, however, these foundations have weakened. Decline can be measured across three key dimensions: identification, practice, and authority or public roles (Ganiel 2024).

Religious Identification

In the Republic of Ireland, census data shows a steady fall in Catholic identification over recent decades: from 92% in 1991 to 69% in 2022. While immigration and religious diversity play a role, the main driver has been the growth of those who tick the ‘no religion’ box, rising from 2% to 15% over the same period.
In Northern Ireland, the pattern is different. Catholic identification has remained relatively stable—41% in 1968 compared to 42% in 2021—while the Protestant share has declined from 66% to 37% over the same period. Catholic stability is partly explained by demographic factors, including higher birth rates and lower levels of emigration compared to Protestants.
As in the Republic, the number of people identifying with no religion has increased, reaching 17–20% in recent surveys. Although a higher proportion of people in Northern Ireland report having no religion, those in the Republic often express this identity more strongly, linking it to disillusionment arising from abuse scandals within the Catholic Church.

Religious Practice

Religious practice, including attendance at services, has declined markedly. The European Values Study and European Social Survey highlight a sharp drop in the Republic of Ireland: weekly attendance levels of nearly 88% in 1981 have fallen to 45% attending at least monthly in 2018, to around 35% by 2023–2024.
Northern Ireland shows a comparable downward trend, with attendance among all Christians decreasing from 67% in 1981 to 46% in 2024. Catholic decline has been dramatic, falling from 77% in 1999 to 38% in 2024. Protestant attendance, by contrast, has remained relatively steady, hovering around the mid-40% range across the same period.

Public Roles

Finally, the public role of churches has shifted from one of strong social and political influence to significantly diminished authority. In the Republic, this is reflected in major constitutional and legislative changes, including the legalisation of divorce (1995), same-sex marriage (2015), and abortion (2018).
In Northern Ireland, Christianity still has political influence, particularly through socially conservative parties such as the Democratic Unionist Party. During the pandemic, church leaders enjoyed a more collaborative and consultative relationship with government in Northern Ireland than in the Republic (Ganiel and Ní Dhónaill 2025).

The Turning Tide?

In 2026, a report commissioned by the Irish Catholic Bishops Conference suggested there might be some evidence of a ‘turning tide’ against secularisation (Nelson and Bullivant 2026).
This claim was based largely on European Social Surveys, which indicated an increase in Mass attendance among young Catholics in the Republic: weekly attendance among 16–29-year-olds rose from 7% in 2020–2022 to 17% in 2023–2024. Introducing the report, Archbishop of Armagh Eamon Martin described it as exploring signs of a ‘so-called quiet revival’ on the island.
The idea of a ‘quiet revival’ originated in a 2025 Bible Society report based on YouGov surveys of religiosity in England and Wales, which appeared to show unexpected increases in church attendance among young adults, particularly Gen Z men. The findings attracted significant media attention, sparked debate, and generated enthusiasm among many Christians. Archbishop Martin’s remarks suggested that Christian optimism had also begun to influence discussions in Ireland. But in March 2026, YouGov acknowledged that its survey methods were flawed and that the results were unreliable.
Even before the UK’s ‘quiet revival’ was debunked, my research had confirmed very limited support for a ‘quiet revival’ or a ‘turning tide’ toward Christianity in Ireland since the pandemic.
In the Republic, regular attendance since the pandemic has dropped to between just 11-21% in most polls. Decline has been less perceptible in Northern Ireland, with some surveys suggesting attendance has held steady and others suggesting a drop among Catholics (NI Life and Times 2024) or among Protestants (Evangelical Alliance 2023).
Perhaps most tellingly, a 2023 Iona Institute survey found that in the Republic, 31% of people had not returned to mass since the pandemic ‘because my faith isn’t as strong as before Covid-19.’
A 2023 online (non-representative) questionnaire conducted as part of my research project on ‘Religions in Societies Emerging from Covid-19’ found that among faith leaders, 55% of Catholics and 33% of Protestants believed that options for online worship (many of which were initiated during the pandemic) had contributed to declines in in-person attendance.
We also asked leaders about the activities of their ‘involved members,’ which we defined as ‘someone who takes part in many kinds of activities with your religious/spiritual community/tradition, in-person and/or online.’
Fifty-eight percent of Catholics and 55% of Protestants reported that the number of ‘involved members’ in their local group (parish, congregation, etc) had decreased since the pandemic; while 33% of Catholics and 24% of Protestants said the personal faith/spiritual commitment of their involved members had decreased.

Intensification

In contrast, we found evidence of an intensification of religiosity among significant minorities. This was apparent in the qualitative research carried out for An Island of Faith?, which included interviews with 162 Christians, Muslims and Humanists.
Among some of these interviewees, the pandemic catalysed an intensification of religious practice by creating new opportunities for reflection and encountering God, often because they had more free time or were accessing online resources they would not have otherwise discovered. People mentioned a variety of prayer apps, YouTube channels, podcasts, and religious influencers from Ireland and abroad, particularly the United States, saying that these platforms had broadened their perspectives and opened up new horizons.
Intensification was expressed in several ways, including increased prayer, reflection and engagement with spiritual practices; a clearer sense of religious belonging and purpose; and renewed (or new) commitment to religious communities, evangelisation or social activism. Social activism took many forms, from increased volunteering in parish or congregational ministries, such as food banks and youth work, to involvement in advocacy groups supporting both socially conservative and liberal causes.
While we interviewed one university-age atheist who became Catholic during the pandemic, religious intensification was most common among those who were already practising.
This intensification was also noticed by faith leaders who responded to our questionnaire, with 20% of Protestants and 13% of Catholics saying that their number of ‘involved members’ had increased since the pandemic. In addition, 24% of Protestants and 17% of Catholics reported that the personal faith/spiritual commitment of their involved members had increased.
The stronger intensification among Protestants may be linked to their more broad-ranging digital engagement during the pandemic, which included various social media initiatives as well as livestreaming. In contrast, most Catholic parishes—aside from a few notable exceptions, one of which is highlighted in An Island of Faith?—resorted to basic livestreaming of Mass.
Muslims and Humanists did not respond to the questionnaire in sufficient numbers for meaningful results. But the Muslims we interviewed reported no declines in religiosity. Humanists in Northern Ireland described increased vitality, with more people joining NI Humanists and attending their events. In the Republic, the Humanist Association of Ireland did not experience growth.
We also found religious vitality in a growing trend among Catholics to identify as ‘evangelical.’ The island’s historic divisions between Catholics and Protestants have meant that evangelicalism has often been associated with a particular brand of anti-Catholic, Northern Protestantism, embodied in the pre-2007 career of the late Rev. Ian Paisley. In 2004, the Northern Ireland Life and Times survey found that just 4% of Catholics identified as evangelical.
No surveys asked about evangelical identity until 2023, when a representative survey commissioned by the (predominantly Protestant) Evangelical Alliance in Northern Ireland found that 38% of practising Catholics in Northern Ireland also described themselves as evangelical.
Between 2025 and 2026, I interviewed 14 Catholic evangelicals who were recruited through an online questionnaire. Across Northern Ireland and the Republic, evangelical Catholics described either a deepening of their own faith or observed similar changes in others, offering further evidence of religious intensification linked to the pandemic.
Intensification has been shaped by a range of factors, including personal experiences of miraculous healing, a heightened search for meaning, and greater access to digital religious resources during Covid-19, including ‘influencers’ such as American Bishop Robert Barron and Derry woman Roisin Doherty; and apps such as ‘Hallow’ or ‘Pray as You Go,’ among others.
Although evangelical Catholics are aware of the broader decline of church institutions, some interpret this as an opportunity for renewal, with greater involvement of laypeople in religious life. Ireland’s historically divided religious context may also have encouraged this trend. For some Catholics, evangelicalism is experienced not as a barrier, but as a potential bridge to greater unity with Protestants.

Navigating the Archipelago

The island’s emerging ‘archipelago of faith’ signals not a simple decline in religion, but a shift toward a more complex and fragmented landscape marked by both secularisation and intensification of belief. Churches no longer assume deference and increasingly justify their public role in terms of the ‘common good,’ drawing on both secular and theological language.
Meanwhile, sectors historically shaped by Christianity, such as education and healthcare, face pressures to reduce religious influence, even as minority groups like Muslims and Humanists struggle for equal recognition. In both jurisdictions, Muslims have endured discrimination and increasing levels of hate crime; while Humanists have waged successful campaigns for the recognition of Humanist marriage celebrants, among other issues.
In an effort to strengthen their collective voice in the public sphere, Christian denominations have increased their cooperation. There also has been growing inter-religious contact, though this seems more superficial than inter-church collaboration. The pandemic played an important role in fostering this engagement, bringing religious leaders together and into regular contact with government officials on issues such as public health restrictions and vaccine promotion.
While inter-church relations are now at a historic high, the overall influence of churches in society has nevertheless continued to decline, more so in the Republic than in Northern Ireland.
Within this plural environment, ‘islands of faith’ are characterised by vibrant personal religiosity and efforts at internal reform. Both progressive and conservative Catholics, along with Protestants, pursue renewal in different ways, increasingly supported by digital religious practices that blend online and in-person engagement.
Here I insert a caveat. Much of my data was gathered before the large-scale everyday use of generative AI chatbots, which we now know people are increasingly using for religious/spiritual guidance. A 2025 Barna survey found that one in three American adults say AI’s spiritual guidance is as trustworthy as a pastor’s – including 39% of Gen Z and 44% of Millennials (Barna 2026). While we don’t have data on this for the island of Ireland, it would be naïve to assume Christians here are not turning to AI, which is likely to shape religious practice in profound ways.
At the same time, liberal–conservative divides persist across and within traditions, especially on issues like abortion and same-sex marriage. These divisions create new alliances, with socially conservative Catholics and Protestants sometimes finding common ground. In Northern Ireland, such alignments intersect with the enduring political influence of conservative Protestantism and the legacy of evangelical anti-Catholicism, adding further complexity to the evolving religious landscape.
These differences point to a number of potential flashpoints for polarisation: between north and south, as Northern Ireland continues to show higher levels of religiosity; between highly committed religious minorities and those who identify with no religion; between women and men, with some evidence that men’s religiosity tends to be more conservative; between generations, as younger Christians turn to online rather than ‘institutional’ religious authorities; and between Christians (whose religiosity is declining) and Muslims (whose levels of practice have remained steady).
Navigating this emerging ‘archipelago of faith’ will take imagination and adaptability from both policymakers and religious communities. Public policy must keep pace with growing diversity, while people of faith are challenged to rethink their place in societies where privilege and influence can no longer be taken for granted.

Sources:

An Island of Faith? is based on extensive new data, making it the most comprehensive study of religion on the island in over a decade. The book grew out of a comparative research project, Religion in Societies Emerging from Covid-19 (2022–2025), funded by the Trans-Atlantic Platform/AHRC (AH/X001369/1) and involving collaborators in Canada, Germany, and Poland. I served as principal investigator, with Caoimhe Ní Dhónaill working full-time as a postdoctoral researcher.

The book also draws on findings from two additional studies I conducted. The first, carried out during Covid-19 lockdowns (2020–2021), examined how Christians responded to the pandemic. The second (2025–2026) explored the beliefs and practices of those who identify as Catholic and evangelical.

Altogether, these projects include 1,215 responses to online questionnaires, interviews with 162 participants, and qualitative analysis of 385 documents.

This text, 'From Island to Archipelago: Navigating Ireland’s Religious Landscape', is licensed under a CC BY-SA 4.0 license. No part of the Work may be used or reproduced in any manner for the purposes of training artificial intelligence technologies or systems. The Work is protected and reserved from text and data mining.