So I’m minding my own business, reading China After Mao: The Rise of a Superpower (2022), when this sentence just jumped off the page to me:

A basic skill in any planned economy was the ability to subvert the master plan. (p. 35)

Subvert here doesn’t mean sabotage or destroy, just maneuver around the plan or system to produce better personal or family or team outcomes. I think that holds true for any top-down management scenario, whether it’s a centrally-planned economy like China, a tightly managed command structure like the US military, or most large corporations. The Church is not as tightly managed as these examples, but it does take on some of the relevant characteristics: centralized management with limited delegation of authority; an obsession with collecting statistics to measure performance and trumpet achievements (albeit by releasing carefully doctored numbers); goals and constant encouragement to hit those targets; and treating dissent from The Plan as something akin to apostasy. Imagine an LDS missionary telling peers and leaders this: “I’m not here to baptize anyone, just do Christian service when the opportunity arises and pray with those who are suffering, kind of like the Good Samaritan.”

So why is subverting the master plan a survival skill in a planned and supervised environment? Usually because the master plan is not workable. It is a wish list of outcomes not based in reality or in reasonably achievable accomplishments. In China under Mao, for example (as the author of my book recounted), the planned economy simply didn’t produce enough food to feed the population. A family could either dodge the system (black market purchases, smuggling food, stealing food) or starve. Harsh choices. Factory managers need to hit assigned production targets, but will turn out shoddy product or even totally non-functional product in order to do so (the numbers measure quantity, not quality, so quality suffers).

Almost every WW2 movie features a scene where the unit supply officer explains how they traded ice cream and beer to the next unit in return for the extra ammo the captain needed for the upcoming mission, or some similar bartered trade. And so forth. It’s how you survive in a planned and managed environment. Here is what you need to grasp about this scenario: Dodging the system is not a defect and it’s not cheating. It’s how people survive in an otherwise unworkable system. So here’s the question: How unworkable is the LDS Church system? If not in totality, at least at times and places. And what do members and local leaders do to make their life better by, here and there, dodging the system? I know you do this. I’ll throw out a few examples and invite readers to add their own observations and experiences.

Sacrament meeting (and other meetings). What percentage of attendees are alert and listening carefully to the speaker? Have you ever looked around? How to dodge the system: Take a nap. Read a book. Pinch the toddler and take him/her out to the foyer to play. Check the news on your smartphone. Watch a football game on your smartphone (seasonal only, and this somehow seems to cross the line).

Second hour. What percentage of sacrament attendees slip out the side door before the second hour meeting begin? Other options: chat with a friend in the hall. Go “help” in the nursery (they have toys there; mine has a little basketball hoop).

Missionaries. The LDS mission environment is much more controlled and statistically driven than regular church. Missionaries engage in some of the same strategies that managers in planned economies do: Exaggerate the numbers. Count conversations as discussions. Engineer questionable baptisms (think baseball baptisms). Focus on quantity with little or no regard for quality. Leave late, come home early, take a mental health day if needed. Many mission rules have been loosened in recent years, which takes some of the stress out of mission life, but I’m sure missionaries still exercise survival skills in these and other ways. The surprisingly large percentage of young LDS missionaries who continue to return home early bears sad witness to how challenging the system is and how important coping skills and survival strategies are in such an environment.

Share your own observations or examples. Remember, these aren’t examples of “cheating” or “breaking the rules,” except in the eyes of the folks at the top who design and manage these unworkable systems and a few zealots who drink the koolaid every day. For the rest of us, it’s just choices we make and the tricks we use in order to make the system more livable.

  • How unworkable is the regular LDS Church system for the average member?
  • How unworkable is the LDS missionary system for the individual missionaries? Some have great experiences, others don’t.
  • I didn’t mention BYU or BYU-I, which for individual students have become more tightly managed and controlled in recent years than in the past.
  • The ultimate dodge, of course, is to simply exit the system. That’s tough if you’re in an authoritarian country or the US military. It’s doable but a big step, sometimes a traumatic step, for Mormons. How many of those who exit are simply worn out or fed up with the LDS system, as opposed to the other explanations generally offered (offended; read too much LDS history; crazy LDS politics; have an LGBT family member)?