If I Don't Believe in Mormonism, What Do I Believe?

There's a hackneyed joke that goes like this:

Q: What do you get when you cross a Unitarian with a Mormon?

A: Someone who knocks on your door for no particular reason. [1]

Aside from taking a cheap shot at Mormonism, part of the humor of this joke is the idea that Unitarians supposedly don't believe in anything. This is a fairly common assumption that religious people sometimes make about systems of freethought such as Unitarianism, humanism, atheism, etc. I think this stems from their belief that God and religious values are the immutable source of morality, wisdom, and happiness. I can understand why most people have this perspective since many people are first introduced to questions of ethics and morality in a religious context. Moral behavior is also generally the main topic of discussion in nearly all religious settings. And many people are motivated by their love of God to act in moral, pro-social ways. Therefore, religious people often feel that to reject religion must mean that you reject a belief in moral values. It means you don't believe in anything any more.

While I can understand that perspective, I don't think it's accurate. It's true that I no longer believe in religion any more, but that doesn't automatically mean I condone moral relativism or that I don't have moral values any more. So I wanted to articulate here what I do continue to believe in.

The Virtue of Scholarly Dialogue

Generally speaking, I'm fairly wary about believing in "truths" any more. I am hesitant to make bold, dogmatic statements declaring things to be absolutely "true" or "right." The reason I hesitate is because it's always possible that my understanding of the issue could be limited by cognitive bias, a lack of evidence, shortsightedness, etc. (as has been the case in the past, unfortunately).

But even though I hesitate to believe in absolute truths any more, that doesn't mean I reject the notion that truth exists. I still believe that truth exists---and if push comes to shove, I'd be willing to take a stand for the things that I currently believe to be true based on the evidence available to me. However, I am less interested in believing in Truth (with a capital "T") and I am more interested in how to access the truth. In other words, I prefer to believe in processes that have good track records for helping me to get closer at approximating the truth about important matters.

In my opinion, the process of scholarly dialogue is the most superior process so far. When I say "scholarly dialogue" I'm referring to the process of researching a topic thoroughly, articulating an argument based on your research and submitting it for critique by other scholars who have also researched the topic thoroughly.

Under this system it is important for individuals to be as educated as they can about the topics they discuss---but it's also important to keep in mind that oftentimes the process of dialogue is itself a form of education because it exposes us to alternative perspectives that we might not have been aware. Ideas must go through the crucible of scholarly argumentation. If they emerge from that crucible intact, they are worth considering.

Honesty, Courage, and Respect

With that in mind, I've come to feel that the chief requirements for scholarly argumentation are honesty, courage, and respect. I've created a laundry list of what these three virtues mean to me:

Honesty

• Before making your argument, will you research your topic thoroughly to the best of your ability? Are you willing to diligently and objectively search all possible perspectives and information on this topic?
• As you research, will you use only those sources which are of the highest quality and credibility to support your position on the topic? Will you check and re-check your sources to make sure they are highly credible?
• Will you cite your resources fully and accurately so that others can verify that your resources are credible and reliable?
• Will you refuse, on principle, to distort the evidence or another scholar’s point of view? Will you make sure that you do not take quotations out of context or misrepresent them in any way?
• If an occasion for an argument arises and you have not had enough time to conduct sufficient research, will you mention that as a caveat to your argument? Will you acknowledge any personal biases that inform your argument?
• Will you make sure that you define key terms in a way that can be mutually agreed upon so that your readers will understand the fundamental assumptions of your argument if needed?

Courage

• Are you willing to change your mind on this topic? Are you willing to risk your own ego for the sake of truth and in order to do what’s best for society? [2]
• Are you willing to abandon any long-cherished positions when it is clear that there is substantial evidence to the contrary?
• When your perspectives change, are you willing to acknowledge how and why your mind was changed?
• If one of your arguments or some of your supporting evidence is shown to be flawed, will you revise that argument or stop using that evidence altogether?
• Will you recognize the full complexity of the issue and add qualifications to your argument when necessary?

Respect

• Will you acknowledge counterarguments to your own claims in a fair and balanced manner?
• Will you resist the temptation to disparage the character of persons who take a different position from your own? Will you strive to have empathy for others, recognizing that everyone has valid reasons for believing the things they believe?
• If another person concedes that your position is reasonable or correct, will you refrain from belittling them, recognizing that the purpose of scholarly dialogue is not to “win,” but to find the best possible solution or perspectives on the topic?

Without these conditions in place, there can be no productive, rational discussion. It is best not to engage in these kinds of arguments for your own health and well-being. However, when these conditions are in place, it can be a remarkably transformative, powerful experience. Those kinds of discussions are worth seeking out because they will benefit all the participants involved. Society as a whole will be a little bit richer because of it.

Caveats to the Process of Scholarly Dialogue

I'm a big fan of Eliezer Yudkowsky (author of Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality). On his Less Wrong website for aspiring rationalists, he has an article entitled Twelve Virtues of Rationality that are somewhat similar to the three requirements I've articulated above. One of his virtues is evenness, meaning that you need to apply skepticism and argumentation evenly to positions that you agree with as well as positions that you disagree with.[3] So, in the interest of being even-handed, I need to acknowledge some of the problems with the process of scholarly dialogue that I've discussed above.

Scholarly dialogue takes a long time to achieve. It takes a lot of resources to get to the point where a scholarly dialogue can even take place. It takes time and education to conduct scholarly research. Furthermore, scholarly dialogue benefits from involving as many people as possible during the argumentation process in order to get as many valid, creative perspectives in the forum as possible. When scholarly dialogue is working at its best, it becomes synergistic and collaborative. But when more people are involved it, it also slows down the process immensely. Consensus takes an incredibly long time to achieve and the conditions have to be just right for it to occur. It's a long, arduous and messy process. And that's why it doesn't happen very often.

Good research is not freely accessible to the public. My biggest pet peeve with academia is how many barriers it places around open access to good information. Scholarly research is among the most credible information available, but it requires esoteric permission to access it. You pretty much have to work at a university in order to have access to scholarly materials because it is too cost-prohibitive otherwise. Many academic databases and journals have incredibly high subscription costs. One librarian at my work estimated that database and journal access costs my university close to a million dollars a year. That's a big problem for a host of reasons (and one that I applaud Harvard, Princeton, and MIT for trying to combat). Beyond the tremendous cost for access to journals, most scholarly journals are written in "academese," a highly complex and sometimes unnecessarily technical style of writing that is quite difficult for lay readers to understand. Although some of this jargon is justified, it can also just be an excuse for poor writing. The high cost and the obfuscated language in scholarly journals make it difficult for most people to have access to good information so that they can better educate themselves about key issues.

Scholarly dialogue is not intuitive; it has to be learned. Rationality is not the default way in which human beings approach the world for many complex cultural, psychological and even biological reasons. [4] People usually have valid reasons for behaving and thinking irrationally, but that doesn't make the process of scholarly dialogue any easier. It's sometimes difficult to engage in a productive exchange of ideas when the cultural and biological odds are stacked against you.

Scholarly dialogue doesn't always get it right---nor does it pretend to. Sometimes experts are wrong. Sometimes the scholarly consensus is wrong. It's important to remember that scholarly dialogue is not about giving you THE TRUTH. It's about approximating truth, getting closer and closer to the truth with every new day---even though you know you're never going to fully arrive there. Scholarship isn't about giving you certainty about the way the world works per se; it's about telling you the probability that this is the way the world works given the current evidence that is available to us. You have to stay on your toes and be willing to diligently keep searching for new evidence and updating your probabilities as you go along. And that's the true beauty of scholarly dialogue: it's a self-correcting process. Even though it gets it wrong sometimes or even a lot of the time, eventually it will correct itself.

Conclusion

As costly and seemingly impossible to attain as it is, I still maintain my commitment to scholarly dialogue, to independent thought, and to the openly democratic exchange of ideas. Compared to nearly every other system, I maintain my confidence that scholarly dialogue has the best track record for improving the human condition so far. And so, yes, that's what I believe in today.

Footnotes

[1] Lenny Bruce is also quoted as saying: "I know my humor is outrageous when it makes the Unitarians so mad that they burn a question mark on my front lawn."

[2] Christopher Lasch’s once wrote: “It is the art of articulating and defending our views that lifts them out of the category of ‘opinions,’ gives them shape and definition, and makes it possible for others to recognize them as a description of their own experience as well. In short, we come to know our own minds only by explaining ourselves to others. The attempt to bring others around to our point of view carries the risk, of course, that we may adopt their point of view instead. We have to enter imaginatively into our opponents’ arguments, if only for the purpose of refuting them, and we may end up being persuaded by those we sought to persuade. Argument is risky and unpredictable---and therefore educational” (qtd. in "The Lost Art of Political Argument." Harper's Magazine Sept. 1990. Web.)

[3] When you fail to apply skepticism evenly to your own arguments, this is also known as "motivated skepticism." See Taber, Charles S. and Milton Lodge. "Motivated Skepticism in the Evaluation of Political Beliefs." American Journal of Political Science 50.3 (2006): 755-769. JSTOR. Web.

[4] There are a lot of people who have written about this better than I have. An interesting book to get started with this concept is Chabris and Simon's The Invisible Gorilla: How Our Intuitions Deceive Us.

When Friends Ask Me Why I Left Mormonism

Today I received an email from a distant friend who had just learned from my family members that I have left the church. Her letter was warm and expressed empathy, but her primary purpose in writing was to "get me back on the straight and narrow path," as she put it. This was my reply:

Thank you for your concern. I am of course unhappy to hear that my life choices have caused my family members to experience pain and grief. However, I must live a life that is true to my own beliefs and convictions. Simply put, I have realized for myself that the church is not true and it is not what it claims to be. This realization came from several years of intense study and deep introspection. I will not go into detail to describe to you how I reached that conclusion because I don't want to be accused of trying to hurt you or "lead you astray." But let me be clear that I am quite certain for myself that the church is not true. [1]

Again, it upsets me to hear that my life decisions make other people upset. I do not like to cause other people to suffer. But I cannot live a false life just to make other people happy. I need to live a life that is consistent with my personal beliefs for my own well-being---even if others do not approve of my decisions. I tried to live the Mormon life for many years despite not believing in it. That was a mistake. It caused me to experience intense depression and severe anxiety to pretend to be a believer when I was not. I needed to leave Mormonism in order to have peace of mind. It was not easy to leave, but I feel a lot happier outside of the church than I did when I was inside.

I will continue to be your friend if you would like me to. I will continue to treat you with respect and warmth. I would hope that you would extend me the same courtesy. Thank you.

Generally in these kinds of conversations with friends, my goal is to be clear and honest about my reasons for leaving without going into a lot of detail (because I don't want to cause the other person to get too defensive). Since these kinds of conversations can be a game-changer for some relationships, I usually try to make it clear how I will continue to act in the relationship in the future, i.e. with continued respect and kindness. I tell them that I would hope to be treated the same way in return. If necessary, I sometimes add a "boundary" (like a clear behavior request).

Family members are a little different. In the first place, it's fairly rare for a family member to want to discuss my relationship with the church directly and openly. But when they do approach me, I tend to be less direct in those kinds of conversations. For example, when my sibling who is on a mission bears testimony to me in an email, I usually don't respond to it directly and I tend to change the subject. Since sibling relationships have much higher stakes, I would prefer to have those conversations in private and face-to-face where I can communicate with love and respect. In other words, my goal with those kinds of conversations tends to be to forestall discussion until the conditions for a conversation are more ideal. Honestly, I'm also fine with avoiding the topic and just letting it be the proverbial elephant in the room.

I'm not sure about the ideal way to handle these conversations. I don't really think there is an ideal way when both parties disagree so fundamentally about the key issues. Especially when it would take several days/months/years of library research to get to the point where a meaningful exchange of ideas about the church could occur.

Most people haven't done the scholarly groundwork to really have an in-depth conversation with me about polyandry, the theodicy, Biblical history/archaeology, church history, Book of Mormon/Doctrine and Covenants/Pearl of Great Price textual criticism, freemasonry, etc. etc. etc. I'm not saying that to be elitist; I'm just saying that until people have done their homework to make sure we're all having a conversation on equal terms with equal access to the same sources of knowledge, then we're not very likely to have a productive conversation. So, usually my goal is to try to communicate that I still love and respect the people in my life, while at the same time remaining true to my own sense of self. If someone does decide to take me up on the library challenge, then we can have a dialogue. But I'm also content to let the status quo remain.

Footnotes

[1] Sometimes people from other faith traditions read my blog. As an FYI for those individuals, Mormons frequently repeat the phrase "I know the church is true" when bearing testimony of their belief in Mormonism. This binary phrasing often strikes outsiders as being oddly absolutist, but it is basically shorthand for the set of beliefs that comprise the theology of Mormonism (and whatever that means to the individual expressing it).

Is Mormonism Harmful?

My husband and I have been engaging in an ongoing conversation over the last several weeks about whether Mormonism is harmful or not. Since it was a fairly interesting conversation, I thought I would record some of the highlights here.

How it all got started...

For various reasons, I ended up listening to several recent Mormon Expositor episodes back to back a few weeks ago. I happened to listen to one episode in which Brandt (one of the Expositor's lovable token believers) mentioned he was sad when people leave the church because he felt that Mormonism was a good way to live. Later that day I listened to another episode in which Matthew Crowley said he felt that Mormonism was a harmful religion. That led me to ask: who is right? Is Mormonism a good way to live or is it harmful? Is it possibly both at the same time? I decided to answer this question for myself.

As an apostate myself, I've rubbed shoulders with a lot of people who have experienced genuine pain as a result of Mormonism. I've met people who have developed eating disorders and other mental issues because of Mormonism, people who have had their relationships with friends/family badly damaged because of Mormonism, and people who have experienced tremendous cruelty at the hands of the Mormon community---some to the point of attempting suicide. I myself have experienced depression and anxiety as a result of my faith transition out of Mormonism. So on the one hand, I think there is enough anecdotal evidence to suggest that Mormonism has the potential to cause harm.

But on the other hand, I have to admit that prior to my de-conversion, Mormonism did not cause me any personal harm. It worked fine for me while I believed in it. The same seems to be true for my believing family members; they seem genuinely happy and healthy living as Mormons. My husband's family also appears to be happy and healthy in their Mormon lifestyles. Therefore, there is also probably enough anecdotal evidence to suggest that Mormonism has the potential to be a good influence on people's lives.

So, that was the general idea that my husband and I discussed at first: Mormonism works great for people who fit the standard Mormon narrative. If you're faithful, white, middle-class, employed, mentally healthy, extroverted, American, married with kids, politically conservative and you fit the traditional norms for your gender, Mormonism is likely to be a good fit for you. Even if you don't fit every single one of those criteria, you should still fit in and feel relatively comfortable within Mormonism if you've got most of them down at least. And there are a number of people who can (more or less) fit into those social categories without too much trouble. I did. My husband did. My family did. And things were relatively stable and normal in our Mormon lives (until the faith crisis came, of course).

The problem is that anecdotal evidence like this isn't really a good basis for a sound argument. Both sides can easily cherry-pick all the anecdotal evidence they want to prove their side is right. And while qualitative data like that can be helpful for understanding the key issues that are in play, it doesn't necessarily get us any closer to understanding the way Mormonism systematically operates in people's everyday lives. After all, it's possible that the harm caused by Mormonism is not unique to Mormonism at all; it might instead symptomatic of religion in general. So my husband and I decided we needed to examine the theology and culture of Mormonism itself to determine whether it was uniquely more or less harmful to people's lives compared to other religions or social institutions.

What happens if we put on our feminist glasses and look again?

Since I dabble here and there in Mormon feminism, I frequently come across a lot of personal stories of pain and malcontent related to gender problems in the church. As my conversation with my husband continued, I began to wonder if approaching the topic from a feminist lens might be useful for examining the church systemically. So, I suggested that we work our way through LDS Wave's I Feel Unequal list as a way of continuing the conversation. We combed through the list, discussing each item as it related to our larger question of whether the church is harmful or not. Our purpose was to brainstorm whether there were specific aspects of Mormonism as an institution or an ideology that made it uniquely more or less harmful than other social institutions or ideologies.

I'll spare you the details of our lengthy conversation about the Wave list, but we did ultimately agree that the church had a harmful stance on gender. As the list makes fairly clear, gender inequality (and its related issues) are fairly deeply woven into contemporary Mormon theology and culture. Although the list never states it explicitly, it's clear that many of the problems are caused by one of three general problems: 1) the fact that women do not hold the priesthood equally with men and consequently do not have an equal role in church governance, 2) LDS doctrines about gender essentialism, and 3) antiquated institutional/cultural practices that endure because of historical tradition or short-sightedness (rather than for theological reasons). The gender inequality within the church is quite extensive and most certainly has the potential to cause a great deal of harm---such as domestic violence, gender stereotyping, double standards, self-esteem issues, mental health issues, etc.

But the real question we were examining was whether the gender inequality of the church is unique to Mormon ideology or not. While there are some unique aspects of Mormon theology and culture that reinforce gender essentialism, these basic gender ideologies did not entirely originate in Mormonism. Most were simply inherited from Christianity or from mainstream American conservative culture at large. Mormonism perhaps differs by degree, if anything. (For example, Mormonism ups the ante by asserting gender was determined in the pre-existence and that marriage is necessary to achieve godhood---possibly even polygamous marriage depending on which kind of Mormon you're talking to.) But the basic gender ideologies are the same as those found in other Western religious and conservative social institutions---which means that sexism pre-dates Mormonism. For example, women cannot hold the priesthood within Catholicism (as was the case for most Christian denominations up until fairly recently) and conservative religious groups like the Missouri Synod Lutherans still strongly advocate for traditional gender roles---to a degree that sometimes surpasses the discourse about gender within Mormonism, in my opinion. [1]

The conclusion that we came to after reviewing the WAVE list was that, while Mormonism does indeed have the potential to cause harm, it doesn't necessarily cause any more or less harm than other religious or social institutions. If we were to examine the utilitarianism of Mormonism from the perspective of race, cultural imperialism, and sexual orientation, I'm confident the same pattern would emerge.

The virtue of checks and balances

That doesn't mean I'm excusing Mormonism for its potential to cause harm. Nor does it mean that I'm trying to minimize the very real pain that Mormonism has caused to many individuals. Rather, my argument is that these same harmful patterns can be found in many different human institutions---religious or otherwise. (Governments, businesses, unions, etc.)

Humans create institutions because they can accomplish their goals more effectively when they work together as a collective body rather than as solitary individuals. But there's no such thing as a perfect institution---and it's worth noting that some institutions are a lot healthier than others. The primary element that separates healthy institutions from unhealthy ones is whether they are capable of self-correction. In other words, healthy institutions are ones which are capable of 1) recognizing when a certain belief or practice is somehow wrong or harmful, and 2) adapting its policies to correct beliefs or practices that have been proven wrong or harmful.

Here's a few institutional elements that are important for self-correction (off the top of my head):

• Does the institution have a system of checks and balances in place to ensure that no one individual or governing body has carte blanche to makes all the decisions for the group (creating the possibility for tyranny or for myopic decisions being made in an echo chamber)?
• At any time can someone inside or outside the institution offer sincere, well-meaning criticism or alternative perspectives to its leaders without fear of reproach?
• Does the institution promote the free exchange of ideas and independent thought? Does it seek to understand and possibly adopt good ideas that come from inside and outside of the institution?
• Does the institution allow for grass-roots communication from the bottom up between those who are in power and those who are not? Is there a process by which people both inside and outside of the institution can address grievances if they are hurt by someone within the institution?
• Does the institution foster a homogenous monoculture or a culture of hierarchy or elitism, whether consciously or not? Does it welcome diversity and alternative perspectives?
• Does the institution actively seek to promote individuals with diverse social backgrounds into leadership positions---not because of tokenism but out of a sincere desire to welcome a diversity of viewpoints when making important decisions for the organization?
• When it becomes clear that a change needs to be made, does the institution have a mechanism in place for quickly adopting that change?
• Is the institution's government centralized or de-centralized?

Again, some institutions are going to be better than others in terms of this checklist. There are very few that will be perfect. But admittedly, as I wrote this checklist, it was clear to me that Mormonism doesn't stack up very well. It might very well be a less-than-healthy institution when compared to others (although I'm sure there are others that could give it a run for its money). Although it does have a system in place for self-correction---i.e. prophetic and personal revelation---that system is clearly flawed as I have argued on this blog before.

Conclusion

The big take-away that I got from this conversation was that it helped me to better clarify my own beliefs and values independent of Mormonism. I think there are two big impediments that prevent Mormonism from being healthier than it could be: 1) the belief system is founded on principles that are ultimately flawed, and 2) the culture of dogmatism that pervades the church. By dogmatism I mean a hardened, inflexible commitment to "truths" that are not necessarily so. When any group of people dogmatically insists on clinging to flawed or false beliefs and practices in spite of evidence to the contrary, it has the potential to cause harm. (And, by the way, these problems are NOT unique to Mormonism---or even to religion in general. Not by a long shot.)

I have found that I'm less interested in believing in truths these days. I certainly want to continue seeking for the truth, but I don't want to make a hardened commitment to any one ideology any more. I don't want to set my beliefs in stone any more. That's because I've discovered that I'm often wrong, I'm often misinformed, and I'm often short-sighted. I often fail to grasp the full complexity of a given issue when I rely on my own understanding of it.

But the beauty is that I don't have to rely on my own understanding of anything. I can come to understand the complexity of an issue and expose myself to other points of view by engaging with other people in my society---especially those who are different from me. Humans and human institutions are a big part of the problem---but they are ironically part of the solution too. I may not believe in any one institutional ideology any more, but I firmly believe in the institutional processes of education and scholarly dialogue. These dialectic processes improve our lives as individuals and as a society on the whole.  They have a proven track record for success. Through education and scholarly dialogue, our society is becoming more humane, more equitable, and more moral.

That's part of what makes me proud to be a member of an educational institution---despite all of its own institutional flaws. I'm proud to teach students how to communicate better and how to engage in the process of scholarly dialogue. I'm glad to be part of something that is truly making lives better (with quantifiable results to boot!). I hope that in my own small way I can work with other people to make all human institutions a little bit healthier---whether it be the institution of Mormonism or something else.

Footnotes

[1] It's also worth mentioning that Mormonism does contain some potentially pro-feminist elements too (such as the doctrine of Heavenly Mother, the idea that Eve's choice was not only necessary but good, the existence of female ordinance workers in the temple, the Second Anointing, etc.). But, with the exception of Eve, most pro-feminist Mormon theologies are frequently censored by the institution. ---Err, I mean correlated out of the institution.