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.

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.

An Analogy About the Correlation Program

One of my many academic degrees (too many) is in Film Studies. A few weeks ago, a friend of mine (who happens to be an ex-Mormon) had seen an indie film that she absolutely loved, but which wasn't in wide theatrical release and wasn't making very much money. She messaged me on Facebook to ask me whether my film studies classes discussed why mediocre or awful movies make a ton of money while truly good films often fail to turn a profit. The other day, I happened to re-read my reply to her because I was sending a message to her on Facebook. I was somewhat amused by it and since it was relevant to the content of this blog, I thought I'd re-post it here.

***

What really is to blame for the fact that truly good movies (the ones that challenge our thinking and broaden our perceptions of the world) consistently fail to rise to the top of the box office while the Shrek 2s and Transformer 2s of the world take their place as all-time box office record-setters? We do explore questions related to this in film classes. It's a complicated question to answer because it takes a certain level of knowledge about film history and the mechanics of the current film industry.

My personal theory is that capitalism is to blame. For example, let's take your average big-budget, A-list Hollywood movies---the ones with all the expensive marketing designed to get butts into seats on opening night. These movies are calculated to appeal to large numbers of people (the mainstream movie-goer), which means they must appeal to the lowest common denominator of audiences who buy movie tickets. (Typically, the lowest common denominator is the pre-pubescent teen male. If the low brow, young male audience likes it, producers are willing to take a gamble that it will be broadly accessible to other audiences too.)

What that means that nearly every film goes through the "sausage machine" of Hollywood before it makes it to the theater. Producers usually reject original properties for tried-and-true standards with built-in audiences. ("Yay! Another Twilight or comic book movie!") Screenplays get all their originality edited out. ("We musn't offend!") And films get screened before test audiences and edited like crazy until they barely resemble the original screenplay. Then, they market the hell out of them. Because they know that even films that pretty much suck will still turn a decent profit after making the full rounds in international theaters and DVD sales (Tron 2, anyone?)---as long as they get enough butts into seats on opening weekend, since that's the only real benchmark of success. They don't care if you brought your mind into the theater with you or not. All that matters is whether you brought your wallet.

The best analogy I can make about this process is to compare it to the church's Correlation program. Anything weird or quirky about church history or doctrine gets edited out over time to appeal to the lowest common denominator: the new convert or investigator. Anything that goes through the sausage machine of Correlation comes out looking clean, orderly, and entirely unoffensive---but ultimately empty. But that doesn't matter as long as your butt's in the pews on Sundays. (Oh, and that you brought your tithing slip with you. Downtown malls don't build themselves, you know!)

Both Hollywood and the church think that we're happy to have a diet of popcorn and soda (because that's what test audiences have told them they prefer). But everybody knows this diet is neither sustaining nor satisfying. And those audiences/church members that are smart enough to realize it are finding other ways to fill the void. The real threat to Hollywood isn't pirated DVDs. And the real threat to Mormonism isn't "anti-Mormon literature." (Notice that both of these threats share the Internet in common.) The real threat is the system itself---and the empty sense of dissatisfaction created by its own hollow lack of substance.

***

In all seriousness, the correlation program is pretty close to being at the top of my list of deeply felt concerns about the church. I literally wept while listening to Part 2 of Daymon Smith's Mormon Stories interview in which he described his dissertation about the Correlation program. It's hard to describe why it made me so emotional, but it bothered me on a very personal, gut level. It felt like the Correlation program was almost intentionally designed to make the church a place that was inhospitable to intellectuals like me. It made me feel profoundly alienated and alone.

And it furthermore made me realize that the church wasn't the way it is today as the result of any kind of calculated conspiracy by the individuals at the top. (Not that I ever really believed it was anyhow.) Rather, the fault lies in the institutional system itself. I recognize that nearly every institution is deliberately created by human beings to serve some noble purpose or meet a need of some kind (Correlation included). But after a point, most institutional systems begin to take on a life of their own, transcending and defying the conscious intentions of any individuals that belong to the institution. That's what the Correlation program has become. To state it bluntly, I feel that it is an anti-intellectual, patriarchal force designed to keep church members under control by shutting down any productive, evidence-based dialogues that could effect change (and thereby potentially threaten the organization in its current form). It is the institutional system itself that is reprobate.

Up to that point (this was around the summer of 2010), I had believed I could find a way to remain in the church even though I no longer accepted its truth claims. I felt that perhaps I could be a catalyst for positive cultural change in my own small way. But the more I learned about the Correlation program and its incredibly far reach, the more I began to realize that trying to be a change agent in the church was like being Don Quixote. I do admit there is a certain beauty in the quixotic pursuit of noble, foolishly impossible dreams. And in that same vein, I actually have a lot of admiration for people who preach the gospel of Middle Way Mormonism. But at the end of the day, I think it's absurd to try to fight a windmill. And my level of tolerance for the absurd is fairly low these days.

What Happens If There Are Any Opposed?

I was fascinated to read this post on the Ex-Mormon Subbreddit by a user named JohnBrownsBody yesterday. I have no reason to suspect it's a fabrication, but I suppose it's possible. Either way, it makes for an interesting story.

Here's What Happened

The basic gist of the story is that this 17-year-old boy is an atheist whose parents still strongly believe in Mormonism. The boy's family traveled to Utah for Spring Break to see General Conference last week and brought the 17-year-old along for the Saturday afternoon session at the Conference Center.

Of course, during the Saturday afternoon session, the officers of the church are sustained by the congregation. When Uchtdorf read the names of the prophet and apostles and asked if there were any opposed, this 17-year-old raised his hand. After the sustaining votes were completed, two security guards motioned to the boy that he needed to come speak with them.

He followed them into a private room where they asked him for his name, his full address, the name of his ward, and the name of his bishop. They wrote all of this information down on a notepad. They interviewed the 17-year-old and asked him why he raised his hand to oppose the sustaining votes. He replied that he did not think that Thomas S. Monson and the apostles were prophets, seers, and revelators and so he raised his hand to indicate such. They asked him whether he came to the Conference for the purpose of voting in opposition. He explained that he came because his parents brought him.

The two security guards bore their testimony that they thought Thomas S. Monson was a great man and that they sustain him fully. They also had a discussion about what his parents must feel about him at this moment. According to the boy, the security guards listened to his response and then said: "Well, it looks like you're going through some hard times, I hope you get over it. We aren't trying to intimidate you or force you to believe something, but I hope you change your mind." The 17-year-old basically told them that probably wasn't going to happen.

The security guards frowned and then one of them silently took him out of the room. As they were leaving, the other guard stated: "We'll be in touch."

My Response

I'll give the security guards the benefit of doubt to say they were just doing their job, enforcing a policy that has been laid out for them by the organization they work for. To be fair, the security guards mentioned that this doesn't happen to them very often, so they were probably surprised and inadequately trained about how they were supposed to respond. And, oddly enough, on one level it's even nice to have all those rumors validated: if you raise your hand to oppose a leader, someone will actually take a moment to listen to you in confidence (which is undoubtedly supposed to be the intention behind that policy).

That being said, it's really difficult not to see the power dynamics underlying this entire exchange. Although the security guards emphasized that they were not trying to intimidate the boy, the entire context of the exchange suggests exactly the opposite. When a 17-old-boy is being ushered into a private room (with no parental consent or supervision, mind you) by a pair of older, male security guards---complete with suits and earpieces, how can that situation be interpreted as anything but intimidating? It evokes the imagery of a terrorist or suspected criminal being interrogated by the authorities. This is no heart-to-heart discussion with a personable ecclesiastical authority about genuine doubts and concerns that a young teenage boy is experiencing. This is a power play made by people in positions of authority against someone who has very little power in comparison. The fact that they took down his name, address, and ward information and said, "We'll be in touch" sends that message very clearly. I applaud the boy for his youthful chutzpah, but most other ordinary individuals would have felt fairly shamed and demoralized after such an experience. (Which is the whole point, right?)

The whole situation just speaks to what I've said earlier on this blog about the church failing to provide a healthy environment for independent thought. The fact that the church asks the question "Are there any opposed?" when officers are sustained superficially suggests that there is room to disagree with the sustaining out of good conscience. But we’ve all been in a meeting where a forgetful counselor neglects to ask if there are any opposed---for the very reason that no one really expects anyone to oppose it. Church members are habituated and socially pressured into voting unanimously in favor of what the leaders have proposed---which means that the possibility for dissent is ultimately only an illusion. [1] Then, when a 17-year-old calls them on their bluff, the fact that he is treated with suspicion and intimidation (as opposed to mutual respect and the open exchange of ideas) is rather telling, in my opinion.

The last thing I want to say about this is that if I worked for Kirton and McConkie (the Church's law firm), I would immediately advise the church to change their policy about how to treat dissenting votes in General Conference. I recognize that after the Cody Judy incident, the church needs a security team on hand to ensure the safety of the General Authorities. That being said, these issues need to be handled without violating the civil rights of suspects. Although I doubt this boy's parents will press charges, these security guards should have been accompanied by a lawyer who was getting this boy's parents to sign a ton of waivers for privacy, detainment, and future silence in order to avoid a lawsuit. That's because this is not only a clear example of how the church has little tolerance for criticism and dissent, but a potential violation of the boy's civil rights.

Footnotes

[1] If I'm not mistaken, from a strictly legal perspective, church members are not actually official members of the church anyway. Although the church retains membership records, the members don't actually have any voting rights in the organization/corporation like they do in other organized religions. (At least that's what I remember from the Mormon Stories interview conducted with Daymon Smith.) So, the whole voting thing is fairly farcical to begin with.

Fostering a Good Environment for Independent Thought (and Why the Church Fails to Do It)

I liked a blog entry posted by A Mormon in the Cheap Seats on the Doves and Serpents blog not too long ago. It flowcharted the epistemology (e.g. method for discovering whether something is true or not) that is taught in a traditional Sunday School.

I've modified the flowchart a little bit to discuss why I don't think the church fosters a very healthy level of independent thought---meaning that the church doesn't provide a safe environment in which its members are free to reach their own conclusions on important matters. The key feature of independent thought is being able to question authority figures or express ambivalence, skepticism, or dissent.

I like the way the Jesse Tahrili expressed the value of independent thought in his Growing Up With Scientist Mom comic strip:

Being told how to do something can be great. To bypass that initial struggle for information, to instantly understand that fire is hot without having to burn yourself. Today, you could learn more about gravity in one day than Isaac Newton learned in an entire lifetime! This method of passing down information to younger generations is something that has allowed humanity to thrive and progress for centuries. But this reliance on second-hand information is also one of our greatest downfalls. We live in an imperfect world, and to blindly trust everything we're told can be dangerous. Falsities, especially ones that we'd really like to believe, can infect our collective knowledge and proliferate like a virus. We must constantly question ourselves and seek to ensure that what we believe as truth always has a firm grounding in reality.

With that in mind, let's talk about how the church tells us to do in response to what authority figures within the church say. This is the classical epistemological model of Mormonism, as based on Doctrine and Covenants section 8 and 9:

That all seems pretty straightforward, right?

In its ideal form, I don't have too many qualms with this model of verifying whether our leaders are speaking truthfully or not. Although I don't really think that one should rely solely on emotional instinct to determine the veracity of a particular statement, it's not a bad place to start the process of critical inquiry. I also like that this model places the locus of control within the individual rather than in the authority figure; it's ultimately the responsibility of the individual to seek for and verify truth. This ideal model also suggests a fairly healthy system of “checks and balances” within church government, if you will. Every church member is taught that they have a right and a responsibility to ask the Lord whether our leaders are inspired and that they are entitled to an answer through personal revelation.

The problem is: this flowchart doesn't actually describe the process of revelation in the lived reality of most Mormons' experience. Here's the way the process of personal revelation actually works for most members of the church:

If it isn't immediately obvious, there are a number of problems with this model. The central problem is that there is only one possible conclusion: what the leader has stated is true. Although this process may superficially appear to open up the possibility for dissent and doubt, it ultimately denies it in the end. The only possible outcome is that what the leader has said is true. And if that is the only option, then it negates the possibility that this is a system in which independent thought can be cultivated in healthy ways.

This has a host of negative consequences. A few that I can think of are:

• Sexism. This is a big one for me. If only males are in positions of power (e.g. they make the bulk of the decisions for the organization and interpret church doctrine) and if these male leaders can never be in the wrong or can never be questioned or criticized, then that's deeply unfair to women in the church. It makes it impossible for women to have any kind of real influence or power within the church, which has serious consequences for women's mental health and for the overall health of the organization in general.
• Lack of accountability. When leaders cannot be questioned or criticized without fear of negative consequences, that creates a system in which there is no process for people to address grievances, to express valid concerns, or to enact necessary change. When people in an organization feel that they have no control or no voice in how the organization is run, it has the potential to create psychological problems.
• Low self-esteem or depression. In the flowchart above, you'll notice that the only possible explanation for why you can't seem to agree with your leaders is that there is something flawed with you as an individual. I bristle at the arrogant idea that the church organization and its leaders are somehow above reproach and that all of its problems lie in its inherently weak members. It's reminiscent of abusive relationships in which one person always gives and the other only takes. A relationship in which one party is always right and the other party is always wrong is NOT a healthy relationship.
• Intolerance. Most importantly, it creates a lack of support for people who do not fit the standard model in their beliefs, behavior or lifestyle. It promotes conformity to the group at the expense of the individual. It creates rigid, inflexible systems that do not adapt well to changing conditions and environments.

That's just a brief laundry list off the top of my head. I'm sure there's more potential negative outcomes that I may not have thought of. But, of course, one of the most serious consequences is that this model shuts down independent thought, moving the locus of control away from the individual members and onto the leader---who is prone to fallibility, short-sightedness, and possible corruption (even when his intentions are good).

The majority of members don't even bother to go through the classical process of asking the Lord whether the things their leader has said are true. Since it's obvious you'll end up in the same place anyway (the leader was right), why attempt to ask God directly in the first place? You might as well just save yourself the pain and skip over the whole critical thinking and evaluation process in the first place. But this is not a good option because critical inquiry and research has been the primary means through which human civilization has been advanced. Organizations which create environments that are anathema to critical inquiry are an impediment this kind of progress on a macro and micro level. This has extremely far-reaching moral implications. As painful and messy as open dialogue and skepticism can be, nearly every individual or society is much better and more healthy after having gone through the crucible of argumentation.

Now, to be fair, I want to point out that nearly all human institutions (governments, businesses, universities, families) have the potential to create environments that are not conducive to independent thought. It's probably an inevitable part of any human organization. But the fact that the church is prone to the same kinds of problems that are exhibited in other "worldly" institutions is probably yet another piece of evidence that it's just another flawed human construction---no more special or divine than any of the rest.