Quick intro. I’m reading a book of essays on Pragmatism, the philosophical way of thinking (it would be wrong to call it a system) developed by the Americans C. S. Peirce, William James, and John Dewey during the last decades of the 19th century and into the early 20th century. All three rejected the overly abstract and systematic approaches of other schools of their time and emphasized instead engagement with facts and real-world problems. The pragmatic theory of truth emphasizes not some ideal or absolute set of declarations but rather the method of inquiry that leads toward truth and that moves you in the right direction. Peirce endorses the scientific model of inquiry, with “truth” being the knowledge arrived at after a sufficiently long process of repeated inquiry. James emphasized the practical utility of truth for lived experience (what he sometimes called “the cash value” of a truth claim) and was open to a variety of views or theories (pluralism) rather than monolithic models that sideline or suppress alternate views. Note that both of these require a community or social process to generate truth claims.

Let’s narrow the focus a bit. This “method of inquiry” approach can apply to decisions, policies, and truth claims, which all come out the far end of a social process of inquiry and engagement. It might be “where do we build the new bridge?” or “what is the abortion policy or set of laws for State X?'” or “what condition defines when a person is legally or medically dead?” I’ll look at LDS examples a bit later. And let’s consider three general methods of inquiry: you the individual (or some other individual) decide; an expert in the field decides; or a democratic group process, suitably defined, decides. The problem becomes which method of inquiry is appropriate for which decisions, policies, or (claimed) statements of truth? Who decides? Who should decide?

So with that introduction, here is a quote from one essay in the book that sets up this scenario in more detail and with more clarity than I can. Read it, then we’ll apply all this to religious questions and, of course, LDS questions. Here’s the quote, with enumeration and bolding added by me:

Finding the proper standard of measurement is an endless process for individuals, and it is even harder for different individuals to reach consensus on what those measuring sticks should be. [This problem] has revolved around deciding (1) what judgments are properly to be made by individuals, independent of the judgment of others, such as questions of religious experience were for James; (2) what questions are to be decided by highly trained experts comprising communities of inquiry, such as questions of economic and environmental regulation …; and (3) what issues are best decided by the messy, contentious, and imperfect democratic process.

One could make this model more complicated, but it’s fairly helpful as is. You alone decide how your vote is cast; the messy democratic process determines who wins the election. A controversial bond measure vote might determine whether a bridge gets funded; experts will design and construct the bridge itself; you alone might decide whether to pay the toll and cross the new bridge or skip the toll and take the long way around. Okay, let’s look at LDS examples. These are more interesting than you might think.

Missions. Given how much emphasis is placed on LDS proselyting, the decision of a young man or woman to serve an LDS mission is rather surprisingly solely his or her individual decision. Sure, there is strong encouragement for young men to volunteer, but plenty of young LDS men nonetheless decline. For LDS young women, it is somewhat more of an open decision, but with plenty of admiration and support for those who choose to go. The actual details of service, from where a missionary serves to what one wears to what activities one undertakes, are all decided by experts (in this context, LDS leaders or their designated managers and functionaries).

Leaders. Think bishops and stake presidents. Experts (again, in this context, LDS leaders) pull the strings here. Unlike missionaries, bishops don’t volunteer, they are specifically recruited by a higher up leader. The individual who is called may decline, of course, but this is apparently not a frequent occurrence. Local congregations appear to validate the choice “by common consent,” which sounds like a democratic process but this is not a meaningful vote, at least as practiced today. It’s almost entirely a ritual rather than a group decision process or even a group approval. (I say “almost” because a person with relevant knowledge about the selected candidate may, on rare occasions, vote no and later share that knowledge privately with a senior leader, which might impel that leader to rescind the call.)

Temple attendance. I’m looking for an example where a pseudo-democratic process gets some traction. Local leaders (experts) may encourage local members to attend an LDS temple and individuals of course decide whether they do or don’t go on any given day or month. But taken as a whole, say for your stake for the first quarter of 2024, the resulting statistics provide a “vote with your feet” aggregate result, somewhat like a vote tabulation. Stake A might have 60% of active members who attended in the quarter, Stake B 40%,and Stake C 15%. I’m sure someone, somewhere in the LDS hierarchy prepares such a report, for a very limited distribution. The Church collects a lot of data; I’m sure there are many such reports prepared, with very little of that data reported publicly or shared with the membership in general. In the Church, there really are not any formal democratic processes where votes get counted, but there are quite a few of these “vote with your feet” scenarios. It’s the only vote we get.

Secret Polls. Well, that’s not entirely true. While senior leaders do not present issues or decisions to the membership and tally votes, they do employ trained personnel who conduct targeted surveys that are sent to selected groups of members. You might have seen one of these before or actually participated by completing and returning such a survey. One came to my ward once, but I declined to participate because I did not believe their claim that the submissions would be anonymous (the individual packets were barcoded and my answers would have been well outside expected orthodox responses). A properly designed and administered poll, with sufficient responses, provides data that mirrors, within certain statistical confidence intervals, the results of a true vote or election.

Leaders don’t need to (and don’t want to) run an actual vote or election to see what the membership wants on a given issue. Instead, they do secret polls, gather the data, and tabulate results, but don’t share those results. The data mirror, perhaps, what a vote that would decide an actual issue would look like. But the secret polls don’t decide any issues — they just tell senior leaders how the members would likely vote on a given issue. To put it bluntly, the secret polling is not a decision-making process, it’s a manipulation process. They use the data to then fashion their own desired policies or initiatives, modified in light of the gathered data so as to be more effective at accomplishing leadership goals.

Doctrine. Let’s take just one doctrinal example. Elder McConkie (expert) was very adamant that there was no progression between kingdoms in the hereafter. If you find yourself in the Terrestrial Kingdom, per Elder McConkie, that’s where you stay, worlds without end. But there are plenty of active, orthodox LDS who, for various reasons, believe that at some point in the hereafter resurrected persons can possibly cross those boundaries. Some LDS are deeply concerned about this topic. Of course, individuals can believe anything they want to in their heart of hearts. If every active LDS were invited to vote on this question, I’m pretty sure the majority would check the box that said, “Sure, at some point resurrected persons can move up to the Terrestrial and even the Celestial Kingdom.”

I’m also sure that some readers, trained by years of Mormon talks and declarations, will respond, “That’s no way to establish doctrine. We want *true* doctrine, definitive doctrine, delivered by inspired authorities on the subject.” Here’s the Pragmatic point: Truth isn’t low-hanging fruit just growing on trees. A particular statement or claim of truth is the result of a method of inquiry, some of which are more reliable than others, some more appropriate for a given question or topic than others, but *none* of them come with an indelible stamp of cosmic approval. Descartes and his Rationalist successors claimed that “clear and distinct ideas” carried some inherent stamp of truth beyond what simple collections of facts might provide. LDS often view prayer confirmations in the same light, or even striking dreams, as carrying a similar divine stamp of truth. The Pragmatists rejected any of this sort of “peek behind the curtain” approaches to getting at truth. We’re stuck with human methods of inquiry, some better, some worse, but if we are careful and think clearly we can *improve* our methods of inquiry and, with further inquiry, we can arrive at successively better and more truthful answers, models, and decisions. What’s the better method of inquiry here, the expert’s view (McConkie’s view) or the group process view of Mormons as a whole? Or maybe your own personal reflections and view? Who’s to say?

Another Pragmatic comment on this choice of approaches: pluralism generally trumps orthodoxy. That is, tolerating or even encouraging a variety of viewpoints is generally a better social process than allowing one favored viewpoint to define truth, then suppress competing or alternative views. Now my sense is that doctrine matters a lot less in the LDS Church of 2024 than it did say forty or fifty years ago, when Elder McConkie’s Mormon Doctrine was popular. For that reason alone, there’s more doctrinal pluralism tolerated in the Church of today than earlier. That’s probably a good thing, although LDS Correlation obviously cuts in the opposite direction. But they can only correlate manuals and magazines (which almost no one reads anymore). They can’t correlate us. If you believe there is progression between kingdoms, I don’t think anyone really cares anymore. If you make comments in class to that effect, no one really cares anymore. There are dozens of other doctrinal examples I could add if I had more time and you had more patience. My claim is that, for the most part, LDS doctrinal pluralism is defeating correlated orthodoxy.

I sort of shoehorned several ideas into this post. So pick one and run with it in the comments.

  • There is no shortcut to truth, truth is always the result of humans employing methods of inquiry to arrive at defensible but defeasible decisions and conclusions. Agree or disagree?
  • Name an LDS practice besides missions or callings that is a little more understandable in light of individual, expert, or group (democratic) methods of inquiry and decision making.
  • Have you ever been given and responded to an official LDS survey? Did you ever hear anything back about the tabulated results?
  • Can you think of another LDS doctrine where a significant percentage, or even a majority, of LDS endorse a view that differs from the expert (leadership) position?
  • Who do you think is winning in the LDS Church of 2024, Team Pluralism or Team Orthodoxy?

[The quotation is from James T. Kloppenberg, “James’s Pragmatism and American Culture, 1907-2007,” in 100 Years of Pragmatism: William James’s Revolutionary Philosophy, John J. Stuhr, ed. (Indiana Univ. Press, 2010), 32]