Have you ever defended something you don’t actually believe in? My guess is that most of us have. Here’s a simple Mormon example. I doubt most current church members think that polygamy is a good thing. Even Joseph Smith seemed to be conflicted about it, originally decrying it as an evil in the Book of Mormon, then later practicing it (possibly as a cover for his Fanny Alger affair originally, then expanding its secret practice in Nauvoo). But let’s just assume that aside from the randy old goats who think having a hotter, younger second wife sounds dandy, or the beleaguered moms who think they would like a sister wife to do child care, the majority of Mormons find polygamy distasteful or embarrassing, not something they personally would ever want to participate in. So that’s their belief. They probably believe that it’s exploitative, that it makes women second class objects in marriage, not equal partners, that it isn’t good for anyone.
But that’s not the same thing as defending it. When I was in high school, I was the only active Mormon in my graduating class in high school. Most of my classmates only knew one Mormon: me. And the only thing they knew about the church was–you guessed it–polygamy. I often got asked how many husbands I was going to have, or basically to “defend” polygamy. Since my parents were converts I had no polygamous ancestors, and I’m not even sure they knew the early church members were polygamists when they were baptized (I mean, they probably did because they took the lessons for like a year, but who knows?). They certainly didn’t join because of polygamy. They probably just figured that polygamy was this theoretical thing that wasn’t going to affect their lives anyway, so it was not something they had to think about too much.
How do you defend a thing you don’t actually believe? In my case, I mostly just said I didn’t believe in it, and old timey people did weird things. There were a few apologetics that I only found out as an adult weren’t really true: the widows needed husbands to support them, etc. Those things sound “good enough” to defend a thing I don’t believe in anyway. My first thought regarding how polygamy came about is that Joseph Smith asking God about it while reading about Old Testament figures with multiple wives was “THAT’s what you took from that story? Sounds like someone is thinking with the wrong head.” Honestly, I have never felt any differently about it. I had a seminary teacher who said she would rather be the second wife in a “good” marriage than the first wife in a “bad” marriage, and 17-year old me thought “Or, maybe those really aren’t the only two options? Maybe this whole conversation is based on a false premise to justify something that is indefensible.”
This is clearly not the only Mormon belief that most Mormons don’t believe. Some of the other Mormon beliefs that Mormons don’t believe are similarly situated in the past. Nobody is getting up in Fast & Testimony meeting and saying “I know this church is true because in 1977 black people were barred from the temple and priesthood, but in 1978, they weren’t.” The flip-switching change requires some kind of mental gymnastics to believe that both things are true (the pre-1978 and post-1978 teaching), and basically nobody really believes that. They either believe that the pre-1978 thing was true (and the post-1978 thing is just a woke agenda) or they believe the post-1978 thing was always true, and the pre-1978 thing was human racism. Only Pres. Oaks has really tried to have his cake and eat it too (e.g. we don’t know why God was racist before, but we’re glad he changed his mind), but I hardly consider that sticking the landing.
Similarly, nobody is going to bear testimony that the church’s SEC actions were right; they might defend the church’s actions, but they don’t believe it’s OK to hide money through shell corporations and force employees to attest to false statementsa and wouldn’t do that in their personal lives. When I was 9, I heard about the ERA, and I just assumed that the Church (which I naively believed at that point was always going to be on the morally right side) was for it. My mom told me that wasn’t true, that they were against the ERA, and I couldn’t understand it because obviously women should be treated equally–pay, respect, non-discrimination, and rights. She had a hard time explaining why exactly. I’m not sure what she believed–she was no feminist by any recognizable definition–but she was defending the church’s position without apparently understanding it.
Similarly, several years ago, a newer church member ran across me in the grocery store and asked me why we weren’t supposed to drink tea. I was kind of stumped because I honestly don’t really think there’s anything wrong with tea, and the apologetics don’t hold muster. Tea drinkers often live longer, so it’s not bad for you aside from staining your teeth I guess. As to “addictive” substances (not all teas have caffeine), there are plenty that are more addictive that aren’t prohibited. I just had to be honest and say that while they might hear justifications like “tannins” or whatever, it’s just basically social. Mormons don’t drink tea, so that’s one thing that makes them unique, refusing to drink tea. It socially isolates Mormons from people who drink tea socially. But that falls a little flat because if you’ll obey meaningless rules, what won’t you obey? Tea doesn’t really matter, but most people who drink it acquired the taste as they grew up, so if you were raised Mormon you aren’t really missing out either. It’s not like pre-marital sex or whatever. The payoff is tepid water.
It’s human nature to defend something you belong to, and to confuse that defense with a belief in it. How often have you been in a conversation with someone who was defending a political position without realizing that their values actually didn’t align with the party they thought they were defending? Belief and defense are actually two different mental states. Belief is internal and evidentiary. It’s about what you actually think is true, your values, your privately held views. “This makes sense to me.” It is also subject to change as we have new experiences. Defending is outward-facing and about social identity. It’s about protecting our sense of belonging, our social status, or our safety. It’s something we perform publicly (or in a conversation with another person), it treats criticism as a threat to be neutralized and it’s usually a reaction. “You (outsider) don’t understand. This is who we are. If this falls apart, what happens to me?” (Coincidentally, a lot of these defenses sound like domestic abuse victims). If the social system (family, political party, church, nation) is wrong, then maybe I’m unsafe–or at least without that support structure.
It’s easy to confuse defense with belief because defense sounds like conviction–it can be stated very assertively, and it certainly feels very emotionally strong. It is often mistaken for faith (or belief) because rather than holding a belief, we are guarding it. This is not because the belief is strong; it’s because the belief is weak (or non-existent) and needs to be protected to preserve our identity or status.
Interestingly, defense can actually lead to stronger belief, but it does so in unhealthy ways (see domestic violence comment above). Because we are defending something we don’t believe, we feel psychological pressure to align ourselves internally. We create a belief out of necessity in a process called cognitive dissonance. We also create internal checks on doubt so that questioning the “belief” becomes self-erasure. “If this thing isn’t true, then I have no identity.” Beliefs become rigid, dogmatic, immune to evidence, and emotionally charged. Supporting data, no matter how far-fetched, is embraced; contradictory data is dismissed or attacked. Rather than a belief that is open to being altered by new experience, we have a conclusion that requires protection from any contradiction. Healthy belief can tolerate doubt and is curious and humble; defensive belief is combative, absolute, and fear-driven, treating doubt as a danger.
Consider how these social groups benefit us:
- Religion gives us community. But what if that community is based on shallow relationships, or what if the community asks more of us than it gives us?
- Our country gives us identity. But consider when our country is acting against our values, as during the Vietnam War when so many young people protested the draft into a war they believed was both unwinnable and unjust. Or when the country fails to live up to our values or eliminates rights for individuals by refusing to protect them (e.g. LGBTQ or women’s reproductive rights).
- Our family gives us safety. But what if we aren’t really safe? We can defend a family that abuses us in a sort of Stockholm Syndrome mindset (“They haven’t killed me yet, so they must be safe.”) or a fear of loss (“Where else can I go?”) Waking up from this realization is why the concept of found family (surrounding oneself with a chosen group of friends who will really be supportive) is on the rise.
In pointing out the downsides, I’m not saying these communities are not worthwhile. Even if relationships are shallow, maybe they don’t have to be. If we are asked to give more than we get, maybe we can set boundaries. If families are unsupportive but not physically abusive, maybe we can find ways to change the dynamic through counseling or discussion. A business consultant I worked with years ago said something that has stuck with me through the years: the person with the greatest understanding bears the greater responsibility for how the relationship goes.
- Have you found yourself defending something you didn’t believe?
- Have you noticed the relationship between belief and defense?
- Have you tried to distinguish between another person’s actual belief and their defense 0f a group they belong to?
Discuss.
Wheat & Tares 
I join Ms Hawk in condemning hypocrisy in general and polygamy specifically. Neither of those things should be defended.
There has definitely been a change in the members’ treatment of polygamy over the last several decades. It used to be that most members would vigorously defend polygamy as a true principle. Then, members shifted to a lukewarm defense. Now, most members simply treat polygamy like they do a televised hot dog eating contest—ignoring both and hoping every one else would avoid any mention of these things.
Of course, Ms. Hawk and I would be condemning polygamy even more strongly if Joseph had achieved his original vision for it. For although the few defenders of polygamy today whitewash it as spiritual rather than physical, that was not the original plan. Polygamy was envisioned as a free love society in which men and women could copulate like excited rabbits in a way that would put even the most crazed Russian princess to shame.
So let us condemn the things that need condemning. And that includes the practice of defending something that one does not believe in.
I was going to say that of course. I’ve defended things I don’t believe in, but I feel like a lot of the examples I would have come up with were of a different phenomenon…more often, I’ve found myself *explaining* things I don’t believe in.
For example, Bible bashing within other denominations about whether Mormonism is Christian or not. As a non-believer, I don’t believe either system, but it bugs me when either side is mischaracterizing what the other side believes, so I often go into the discussion to *explain*.
There’s an expression I’ve heard recently that I really love for this: “I’m explaining but not justifying…”
Wow… what a statement: “Polygamy was envisioned as a free love society in which men and women could copulate like excited rabbits in a way that would put even the most crazed Russian princess to shame.”
Not a very nuanced viewpoint. Unfortunately, the truth is always more complex than we like to admit. And this statement is Exhibit A.
Interesting post, especially on Christmas Eve.
Best wishes to all. May you find Him in your personal scripture study and prayer, and share His love with your friends and family this week and always.
Andrew, Yes, I find myself “explaining not justifying” a lot in conversations with my brothers. It’s exhausting to continually have to say, I’m not saying I agree with this.. as they seem to get so bent out of shape about the perspectives I’m sharing.
My husband was ahead of the church on the priesthood and the blacks problem, but as a missionary in 68-69 he could exactly come out and say how he felt and believed. So, he had to defend the church’s treatment of blacks, because as a missionary, what else can you do. They were instructed not to teach blacks, or even say they were there to deliver a message about Christ. If they tracked out any blacks, to leave a very short message of faith in Christ and remind them to attend worship services of their choice. But only teach blacks if they ask specifically for it. He said that he suspected the policy was to protect missionaries from having to defend the indefensible and destroy their own testimony in the process. But when they were already teaching a white family and the subject came up, they kind of had to defend it. A few years later, after we were married, and his draft number got way too close, he found himself in basic training for the Air Force. Because he was older and more mature than most of the new recruits, he was made dorm chief, the leader of his dorm and all the men that slept in that building. Still before the doctrine was made a policy and changed. So, about ten black guys under his leadership and being the only nonsmoker/nondrinker/non-coffee drinker, it came out in the first 30 seconds that he was Mormon. So, at that point, he just flat out told them, my church is wrong to be so racist. Defending the indefensible was no longer his job. His job was to earn the guy’s respect. And defending something he considered indefensible wasn’t going to do it.
Back to the polygamy example, my generation still knew people born into polygamist families, for example I think all of my great grandparents were born into families that either were or became polygamist. Some were born to the first wife before dad married the second. Only one of my great grandmother’s was still alive, and she very staunchly refused to talk about it. But imagine being born to the third wife and feeling that polygamy was morally wrong. It would be like declaring yourself a b. . . illegitimate. And all my life, I have heard the great grandchildren of polygamy stumble over saying that polygamy was wrong because they would not exist if it hadn’t existed. They feel like saying polygamy is immoral would be saying they should not exist. Me, I have no such problems. My ancestry has enough illegitimate children, all the way back to Willian the Conquer, that why should I worry that I will suddenly stop existing if I say that I believe polygamy is wrong. Yes, I honestly see little difference between my illegitimate ancestors and my polygamist ones. The children *were* born and all immorality involved their parents, so why should admitting that I don’t approve of their sexual relationship cause me to cease to exist? It is just as silly as saying abortion should be banned because “what if my mother had aborted me?” Well, what if your father’s sperm had never made it to the egg? All the “ what if’s” that never happened don’t matter unless you have borrowed a Delorian with special time travel abilities. So, you don’t have to defend what your ancestors did if you don’t believe it was a moral choice.
I was recently with the missionaries and they were teaching the Word of Wisdom. They were using the same language I used when I was a missionary. But now it seemed so jarring.
The words “God commanded” in context of prohibitions on alcohol, tea & coffee misrepresents the principle and its application. It is more accurate to say God instructed and then church leaders created a policy. The policy is not a commandment from God. The policy is rather a condition of church membership and this policy can change without God commanding anything new or contradicting himself.
I appreciate that this is a nuance that most members do not have and it would complicate the missionary lesson. At the same time, the persistence of the idea that church policy is the same as God’s commandments has created a church that believes God keeps changing his mind!
When I read this post, I couldn’t help but think about Karoline Leavitt and her job as press secretary—routinely defending the indefensible. Surely she doesn’t believe many of the things she is constantly asked to defend. The same could be said of Sean Spicer (remember when he had to go out and debase himself by insisting on how large Trump’s crowd sizes were?).
I think defending something you don’t necessarily believe in only really makes sense through the lens of Jonathan Haidt’s The Righteous Mind paradigm, where he posits that there are six moral foundations: Care/Harm, Fairness/Cheating, Loyalty/Betrayal, Authority/Subversion, Sanctity/Degradation, and Liberty/Oppression.
Conservatives tend to place a high premium on loyalty, so defending something you don’t believe in—or, in some cases, being willing to say black is white and white is black (I’m thinking of the loyalty tests in the current Trump administration, such as being asked whether the 2020 election was stolen as a precursor to being hired)—can actually function as a form of morality to them. It isn’t viewed as egregious because it isn’t primarily a rational argument.
I first noticed this when I listened to Ezra Klein interview someone from AEI after Trump lost to Biden in 2020. The right-leaning (and sane) commenter made the point that many people answering phone surveys saying the 2020 election was stolen or that Biden was an illegitimate president may not have actually believed that intellectually. Rather, their response functioned more like a shibboleth—a way of signaling tribal affiliation.
So when people defend something they don’t truly believe, I think it’s helpful to view it through the lens of what Dan McClellan often refers to as a “costly signaling mechanism”—a way to assert loyalty to the in-group. After all, if you’re willing to lie for your tribe, group, or party, that becomes a way of demonstrating loyalty and signaling that you can be trusted.
Jacob L – your reference to Jonathan Haidt and Dan McClellan’s “costly signaling mechanism” feels spot on. It’s strange that religion, instead of contending with our most human weaknesses, it often only emphasizes them more.
One of the most difficult aspects of human progress is our resistance to being wrong. We tend to treat our beliefs as static truths—fixed positions that must be defended at all costs. We take up the sword and call it virtuous because we’ve conflated belief with certainty. Once that happens, preserving our “rightness” triggers our most primitive survival instincts.
Being wrong is hard. I know that from experience. But the field of apologetics, as it often functions, seems built on the assumption that we were right to begin with. In that sense, it becomes less about seeking truth and more about protecting it. Even the idea of “revelation” has, oddly enough, been absorbed into this posture—not as a call to repent or change, but as another tool to justify what we already believe. 1978 Priesthood ban being the most obvious case, instead of admitting fault, revelation has been wielded as a tool to insulate.
This is also how Western Christianity has positioned scripture. Where ancient Judaism tended to see scripture as a problem to wrestle with, Christians have frequently treated it as a message to be proclaimed. We can engage scripture—and history—in two ways: backward and forward. It can be flattened into a tidy ten-point pamphlet explaining who God is and what God wants. Or it can be approached as a living, ongoing conversation—one we’re responsible for joining and carrying forward.
There’s no honest way to read scripture and claim it represents the best of humanity. And if we read it through the lens of belief-as-certainty—conviction bound up with blindness—we’ll always find ourselves needing to defend what shouldn’t be defended in the first place. Defending God commanding genocide, slavery, prejudice, murder, etc. are all the result of needing to defend “rightness”, rather than adhere to the most common commandment in scripture, to repent (change one’s mind). What made Socrates the wisest man in the land was a grounding belief that “The only true wisdom is in knowing you know nothing”, and his assertion that “The unexamined life is not worth living”. If humans and the LDS institution lived by these principles, ones I believe Jesus proclaimed as well, the 1978 lift of the priesthood ban would be a collective confession, instead of an ongoing justification.
Chicago Suburbs: JCS is a long-time commenter who is a bit of a satirist, so his comments are kind of a mascot/in-joke to the blog. Just FYI. And you are correct that the topic isn’t super Christmasy, but that’s for two reasons: 1) I often write ahead of time about whatever I’ve been thinking about, and 2) I was actually thinking a little bit about the mixed-belief conversations that often arise at family gatherings or even in church get-togethers.
Andrew S & Hedgehog: “more often, I’ve found myself *explaining* things I don’t believe in” Yes, this is my experience too, and as a former boss of mine used to say “When you’re explaining, you’re losing.” You just can’t come across that well because you’re doing something different than the other side of the discussion wants. They want an argument, or a right/wrong outcome, and you are just telling them where their assumptions about the other side are correct and where they are not. That’s not what they came in for. To quote the excellent Monty Python sketch, they came here for an argument (not that the sketch is directly relevant, but it’s just such a perfect sketch):
CUSTOMER: Oh look, this is futile.
MR. BARNARD: No it isn’t.
CUSTOMER: I came here for a good argument.
MR. BARNARD: No you didn’t. You came here for an argument.
CUSTOMER: Well an argument’s not the same as contradiction.
MR. BARNARD: Can be.
CUSTOMER: No it can’t. An argument’s a collective series of statements to establish a definite
proposition.
MR. BARNARD: No it isn’t.
CUSTOMER: Yes it is! It isn’t just contradiction.
MR. BARNARD: Look, if I argue with you, I must take up a contrary position.
CUSTOMER: But it isn’t just saying, “no it isn’t.”
MR. BARNARD: Yes it is!
CUSTOMER: No it isn’t! [Audience Laughter.] Argument’s an intellectual process. Contradiction’s just the
automatic gainsaying of anything the other person says.
MR. BARNARD: No it isn’t.
CUSTOMER: Yes it is.
Although I suppose it’s relevant in that when someone asks about a belief they don’t share, they might be looking for common ground, or they might be looking to differentiate. They probably aren’t looking to be converted to a new value system if the belief sounds indefensible to them on the surface. For instance, if you ask a Catholic “Why do you believe you have to do confession to be forgiven your sins when the priest is just a man, and some of them are extremely flawed and abuse their office?” you are challenging their belief, not asking so you can also believe it. When my classmates asked why the church didn’t ordain black people, they weren’t asking because they thought there was a good reason that I was going to share with them that would suddenly blow their mind. So when you answer these types of questions, you are already starting on the wrong side of the argument, a side you don’t actually want to be on.
I defend Mormonism against critical attacks by evangelicals. Particularly the Godhead. I actually think that Godhead theory aligns very nicely with the concepts of God that we see in the Bible. Trinitarianism seems like a mental gymnastics stretch to justify a single God when in the Bible Jesus, God, and the Holy Ghost appear quite separate. Trinitarian theory honestly seems quite bizarre and I’m actually surprised that it became the predominant theology of most Christian churches. In that vein, I defend the idea that Mormons are Christians and can’t stand evangelicals piping about how Mormons aren’t real Christians. Please, Mormonism is but one of many subgroups of a very rich and diverse larger Christian religion. I also think that the Godmakers was a godawful, stupid, horrendous movie and that evangelical souvenirs sound bites against Mormons are insufferably annoying and ridiculous. Still, I don’t believe Mormonism.
I had to make a distinction between “church” and “Gospel” as a young missionary in Sydney in 79-81. We had our mission president go off the rails. It required an apostle, TS Monson, to come out for a week and survey damage and install Joseph B. Wirthlin as our interim Mission President for a few months. If you’re interested, there is plenty of info on Reddit regarding the situation. But, my experience there, and my view of the handling of it forced me to make the separation of church and gospel, much like that required for church/state.
The mission president was way out of bounds and absolutely ruined many missionary’s testimony of the Gospel of Jesus Christ, especially Sister Missionaries, much less their thoughts regarding the church. The handling of the situation was concerning to me as well.
Fortunately, my belief in HIS Gospel was very firm before my mission and it was at this time that I had to make the distinction of “well, they are humans doing the best they can in a bad situation.” TS Monson did some great “triage work” and was an inspiration to many missionaries that engaged with him, to include several of the sisters. Elder Wirthlin was an amazing inspiration to me while he was there. I had the opportunity to engage with him personally on a number of occasions. It was the “triage” that would later prove to have a few flaws. Regardless, this situation caused me to remove any thoughts/focus from church “mormonism”, to His Gospel, which has served me well in life. I am still a VERY active member, and have held numerous positions in the church, giving me an opportunity to help a few members focus on important matters regarding their own personal spiritual journey. I have stated numerous times to groups of members that everyone involved in the church, especially at the local levels are volunteers, and that priorities should be first to 1. God spouse and family, then 2. work (we need to provide for our families), then 3. church positions/callings. I have told numerous people that they need to let leadership know that they need to be released if the priorities are getting reversed. I wave my BS Flag if people think that they are not supposed to turn down “callings.” Members need to understand that they are on their own personal journey in this life, so therefore, they need to take charge of it.
All of this background to say, that regarding polygamy, my explanation to many of my non-Mormon friends is to simply state that I don’t necessarily believe that polygamy was instituted by God, but that it was most likely brought about by male leadership etc. I have church members who traveled the plains of N American in 1847-55. A small number practiced polygamy, but the larger number did not. I am FULLY aware of the polygamist revisionist ideas of people like Michele Stone and Karen Hyatt, and tend to agree with much of their research, but I don’t espouse their information. Anyone can do an internet search and find information regarding the subject in the early LDS church and make their own opinions.
My statement regarding priesthood restrictions has been the same since before my mission. White men after the death of Joseph Smith were racist and didn’t have the faith to believe the church, and in their mind, the Gospel of Jesus Christ, could survive the racism and bigamy of the current church membership. Once that was set by B Young, other church leaders came up with even more horrific ideas for the reason to withhold the priesthood from men of specific origin and color. I find my self having to state that B McConkie’s “Mormon Doctrine” is nothing of the sort, when some older person wants to quote it in Gospel Doctrine classes. The fact that church leadership allowed McConkie to name it that, further supports my assertion of “church” vs “Gospel.”
Excuse my lengthy description!
“Have you found yourself defending something you didn’t believe?”
I’ve tried to recall if I’ve done this sort of thing–and while it’s possible that I may have defended something I didn’t believe vis-a-vis a political question I don’t think I have with regard to the church. I think the trick is to be careful with how we categorize things. I might defend my *child* generally speaking without necessarily condoning her *actions* in a particular situation.
A very good post. I remember defending/explaining the Church’s position on same sex marriage like this: We believe same sex marriage is wrong, because marriage by definition is between a man and a women – or on occasion between a man and many women 🙂
I just accepted the Church’s position because I felt the need to defend the Church, not because I believed the position was right. I soon decided I disagreed with the Church, and that issue joined the blacks and the priesthood topic on my shelf. Over the years the shelf collected more and more issues, got too big, and out the door I went. I just can’t defend anything that doesn’t make sense or that I can’t believe.