Forgive me if I begin this review by defending my description of the relationships between law, sociology and religion as ‘an awkward threesome’. I do this as I am taken to task on page 226 of Sandberg's book for not explaining what was awkward about these relationships and how this awkwardness might be overcome.

Three incidents were in my mind when I used this phrase. The first two had to do with teaching students on a Law and Society (ie Law and Sociology) degree in the 1990s. These were good students, but even the best were stretched as they came to terms with two very different ways of thinking, each underpinned by its own methodology. Even more difficult were the marking criteria. I well remember the questioning of a mark by a senior social scientist because the student in question had deployed a legal case as evidence on a sociology paper. This was ‘out of order’. A decade or so later, in a different university, I was rebuked for distracting a doctoral student working within an interdisciplinary programme on law and religion. She, I was told, should not ‘indulge’ in sociological thinking as this would divert her from the core of her doctorate, which was legal analysis. Only this would satisfy the Law Faculty. In short, I had my reasons for thinking that these relationships were awkward.

It is, however, for exactly the same reasons that I welcome this book very warmly, given its altogether more positive approach. Religion, Law and Society – the published version of Russell Sandberg's doctoral thesis – revolves around three research questions, clearly articulated at the outset and meticulously followed through in the subsequent chapters. These inquire into: the benefits of combining insights from the legal and sociological studies of religion; the ways in which this approach might inform our understanding of the place of religion in the twenty-first century; and the possible risks of working in this way. The sub-disciplines that are brought to bear on these issues are law and religion and the sociology of religion; the locus of the enquiry is England and Wales – namely neighbouring societies which, in any comparative perspective, are considered secular, though the trajectory is different in each case (Wales secularised later and faster than England). Each, moreover, is subject to the same paradox: the rising profile of religion in public debate alongside continuing secularisation.

The core of the book is made up of four chapters which consider various interpretations of the secularisation thesis using both sociological and legal materials. Sandberg is fully aware that there are other debates in the sociology of religion, but is correct in saying that this one remains dominant. Opinion, moreover, has shifted: an important body of scholarship now questions whether secularisation is a necessary feature of modernisation – a far-reaching re-assessment that has stimulated both social-scientific and legal interest in the field. The review of the literature that follows is thorough, balanced and thoughtful. It is, moreover, a fully interdisciplinary undertaking in that it not only deals with ‘the literature that elucidates, defends and critiques the [secularisation] thesis’ but explores ‘how this can enrich and be enriched by the integration of legal materials’ (p 51). A central thread in the argument concerns the different ‘levels’ of secularisation as these have been identified by Karel Dobbelaere. Changes that happen at the societal level do not always, or necessarily, have parallel effects for individuals or groups. I would nuance Sandberg's account in places, but for the most part it impresses.

The penultimate chapter, entitled ‘Beyond secularization’, goes a step further. It is concerned with the ‘subjective turn’ and demonstrates the increasingly chosen or subjective nature of religious life in England and Wales (and indeed elsewhere). So much is commonplace for most analysts of religion who look in detail at the nature of these choices and their implications for ‘success’ in the religious domain. Some forms of religion prosper in the new climate whereas others do not. Innovatively – at least innovatively for me – Sandberg pursues the implications of this shift in terms of legal developments. He argues that our understanding of religious freedom evolves, in the sense that it is increasingly understood as a subjective right. It follows that legal actors need to take the religious claims of individuals more seriously, ceasing to judge claimants ‘against their own secularized standards’ (p 151). The chapter concludes with an extended analysis of the four legal cases grouped together as Eweida and Others v United Kingdom seen in this light. This is not an easy read for those who have no training in law, but it demonstrates convincingly how the argument shifts from Article 9(1) to Article 9(2) of the European Convention on Human Rights as increasing attention is paid to the subjective perceptions of the applicant rather the objective claims of a religion per se.

I very much admire the interdisciplinarity of this book and I learnt a great deal from it. It remains, nonetheless, the work of a scholar trained in law. Two relatively small changes would have made things easier for the social scientist: a little less detail in the footnotes and a consolidated bibliography. The latter in particular would highlight the fact that two extensive literatures have been brought together and to considerable effect.