This post originally appeared in the Washington Post’s On Faith.

In the wake of this national tragedy, many have speculated about whether violent rhetoric and imagery used by Sarah Palin and others directly influenced Saturday’s devastating events. We may never know if there was a direct link between Palin’s words and the tragedy in Arizona, but as Stephen Prothero eloquently argued this week, we shouldn’t hesitate to reflect on the impact of the rhetoric used by those with political influence.

As the news broke on Saturday morning, I was in the middle of writing about something Palin had written in her most recent book, America By Heart: Reflections on Family, Faith and Flag – specifically, her claim that “morality itself cannot be sustained without the support of religious beliefs.” Unlike the moral outcry inspired by her demands that “peaceful Muslims” “refudiate” the “Ground Zero Mosque,” her comments about the nonreligious were met with silence.

Sure enough, some on the political right are using this same logic to explain the actions of the alleged gunman, Jared Loughner. Said one right-wing pundit: “When God is not in your life, evil will seek to fill the void.”

Meanwhile, on CNN, commentator Erick Erickson attacked President Obama for making Monday’s national moment of silence a time for “prayer or reflection.” Erickson accused the president of “accommodating atheists,” and even used it as opportunity to question Obama’s faith. “That things like this keep coming up suggests the general public is right in their skepticism of the sincerity of his faith,” said Erickson. In other words: any Christian who advocates for atheist inclusion isn’t a real Christian. No wonder few speak out against comments like Palin’s.

Sadly, remarks like those in America By Heart and those made by several public figures in the wake of the tragedy in Tucson aren’t seen by most Americans as extraordinary – in fact, they’re common currency.

So often when we talk about morality and ethics in the United States, we speak of religion in the same breath. As someone who’s been working as an interfaith activist for several years, I get invited to participate in a good number of initiatives that use a common language of “faith” to motivate people and establish the religious as somehow set apart and differently motivated than the rest of the world. While such initiatives usually have the best of intentions, they implicitly demean those who do not associate with a religious tradition.

Every day, countless nonreligious Americans go about living ethical lives that positively contribute to their communities. Take, for example, a student I’m working with at the Humanist Chaplaincy at Harvard, Chelsea Link. When Chelsea heard that the Westboro Baptist Church, known for its hateful protests of veteran funerals, was coming to protest Jewish students at Harvard, she co-organized an interfaith response.

“It’s important to me – as a Humanist, but mostly just as a human – to speak out against injustice whenever and wherever I see it,” said Link. “[Westboro’s picketing] was a clear case of an attack on pluralism, which I feel obligated to defend. But mostly I just don’t like letting people be attacked unfairly without stepping up to defend them.”

I hope that defending the nonreligious against rhetorical attacks like those made in the wake of this tragedy will become as instinctual as responding to those directed at our Muslim, Jewish, or Hindu neighbors. But, more generally, I hope more people will begin to act as watchdogs (no, not lipsticked pitbulls) for rhetoric that demeans or diminishes our fellow humans – whether it calls an entire group of people immoral, or places a crosshairs over a politician’s district.

As many have observed this week, when violent language and imagery is par for the course in political discourse, violence can become an expression of dissent. To prevent violence, we must stop speaking with violence. Likewise, until those of us who do not believe in God are seen as having an equal capacity to be moral, anti-atheist remarks will continue to perpetuate discrimination and people like Chelsea will be seen as less moral than the religious peers she defends.

To those advocating for interfaith cooperation and tolerance: Will the voices of inclusion speak up for atheists, too?

It’s time to stop rewarding the dehumanizing rhetoric put out by Palin, Erickson, and others. Let’s follow Link’s lead and assemble an alternative narrative, where moral cooperation and compassion across communities – religious and non-religious alike – is the norm. In a time of increasing political rancor and religious disparity, we can’t afford not to.