Letter to Richard Dawkins

Richard Dawkins was recently interviewed on a show called Radio West, which is based out of Salt Lake City.  I wrote a letter to him (his foundation) attempting to answer a question he himself raised during the interview, but which no one really addressed.  Here it is.

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Dear Mr. Dawkins:

I recently had the pleasure of listening to you being interviewed by Doug Fabrizio on the Radio West program out of Salt Lake City, Utah.  During the interview you received a few calls from local listeners (both Mormons and ex-Mormons), and in the course of those exchanges you  expressed genuine perplexity as to how more Mormons don’t see through the incredible story of Joseph Smith and the “translation” of the golden plates.

As someone who was raised a Mormon (now agnostic), I thought I might try to shed some light on why and how so many Mormons fail to recognize or realize the absurdity surrounding many of the foundational events of their religion.  In my view, here are the primary reasons (discussed more fully below):

1.  They are unaware of the most bizarre details of these stories.  Information regarding such details are difficult to find in church publications.
2.  Church members are conditioned to distrust information found in non-church sources, which are often branded as “anti-Mormon” and thus dismissed as false/lies.
3.  Mormons are taught from a very young age to trust feelings over facts.

I draw primarily from first hand experience in identifying the above issues, but will also try to document them as best I can.

1.  Most Mormons are Unaware of the Problems.

If you were to approach an average, practicing Mormon on the street and tell him that Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon by placing a “seer stone” in a hat and burying his face in that hat, they would laugh at you and ask where you got your information (or, as Brandon Flowers told you, that you need to “do your homework”).  They might recognize that a “seer stone” was used in the process, but they would likely misidentify that artifact with the “Urim and Thummim,” which was something Joseph later claimed had been buried with the plates.  They would almost certainly not know that the actual seer stone used was the same one that Joseph had previously utilized in his fruitless treasure hunting endeavors.  In fact, they probably wouldn’t know anything about treasure hunting at all.

Instead, the story Mormons are raised on is that which is depicted in the “Joseph Smith History” found in Mormon scriptures, and penned by Smith himself.  This story depicts Smith as an earnest truth seeker who wanted to find the “correct” religion.  His quest for truth resulted in a series of visions and angelic visitations, ultimately culminating in his retrieval of gold plates and the purported “translation.”  None of the problems, historical inconsistencies, or hard questions are discussed in any detail.  You will never see an illustration in any church publication that correctly depicts the “translation” process of the Book of Mormon.  Rather, you see representations like the following:

 





(source: http://mormonthink.com/transbomweb.htm )

Accompanying descriptions of the translation process will almost always be appropriately vague: “Joseph translated the plates through the gift and power of God.”  “He did it by a divine gift of revelation.”  Mormon apologists identify only three instances where church publications expressly (but only briefly) mention Joseph putting his face in a hat, and only two of these appear in the church’s principal magazine, the most recent being in 1993.  Most other problematic issues are mentioned equally or even less frequently.  

2.  Non-Church Sources are Distrusted.

The Mormon church’s practice of presenting a one-sided, sanitized version of its history might not be totally unforgivable if it didn’t also discourage its members from reading books and articles written by church critics.  Such sources are often deemed “anti-Mormon.”  This label is imbued with heavy negative connotations to church members and when it is authoritatively attached to some outside source, most Mormons will routinely dismiss everything said by that source without any examination whatsoever.

Groupthink is a particularly powerful force in the Mormon church.  Criticism of church leaders is strongly discouraged.  In the 2007 PBS documentary “The Mormons,” one prominent church leader went so far as to state “It's wrong to criticize leaders of the church, even if the criticism is true.”  While speaking about the church’s history, another authority is infamous for asserting that “some things that are true are not very useful.”  (Boyd K. Packer, The Mantle is Far, Far Greater Than the Intellect, p. 5.)  In fact, in September of 1993, the Mormon church excommunicated six Mormon scholars for publishing articles or books that were critical of the church, its history, or its leaders.  (These individuals are popularly known as the “September Six.”)  Comments and events such as these create a culture of anti-intellectualism and conformity that strongly discourages free and critical thinking in the church.  Thus, even if your average Mormon does stumble upon troubling information, this second tier of defense often prevents him/her from seriously considering it.

3.  Mormons Believe That They Can Learn Truth Through Feelings.

In my opinion, this last point is the strongest reason that more Mormons do not “see through” the fraud that pervades their religion.  Mormons are taught from a very young age that the best and most reliable way to discover “truth” is to pray to god and ask questions.  If, as you’re praying, you feel something like peace, comfort, joy, excitement, etc., then that means god has confirmed to you the “truth” of whatever it is you’re praying about.  This “confirmation” also need not come through active prayer, but can come at any time one is performing some spiritual or religious act.  Thus, Mormons believe that if they experience these feelings while reading their holy books, this is incontrovertible proof that such books are “true.”

Here are the lyrics to a song memorized and performed by young Mormon children (ages 3-11):

I love to read the holy scriptures,
And, every time I do,
I feel the Spirit start to grow within my heart--
A testimony that they’re true.

Search, ponder, and pray
Are the things that I must do.
The Spirit will guide, and deep inside,
I’ll know the scriptures are true.

Many other children’s hymns reinforce this obviously flawed epistemology.  As you emphatically argue in The God Delusion, children are in no position to critically evaluate religious claims, and the Mormon church’s practice in this respect renders many adolescent and adult members unable to engage in such critical reflection later in life.  Mormons believe that these feelings are caused by the holy ghost, whose role is to “testify” of truth and protect from spiritual (or even physical) peril.  Two relevant, oft-quoted passages from Mormon scripture are the following:

2 Yea, behold, I will tell you in your mind and in your heart, by the Holy Ghost, which shall come upon you and which shall dwell in your heart.
3 Now, behold, this is the spirit of revelation; behold, this is the spirit by which Moses brought the children of Israel through the Red Sea on dry ground.  (Doctrine & Covenants 8:2-3)

8 But, behold, I say unto you, that you must study it out in your mind; then you must ask me if it be right, and if it is right I will cause that your bosom shall burn within you; therefore, you shall feel that it is right.
9 But if it be not right you shall have no such feelings, but you shall have a stupor of thought that shall cause you to forget the thing which is wrong; therefore, you cannot write that which is sacred save it be given you from me.  (Doctrine & Covenants 9:8-9)

While the context of the above passages pertains to the translation process of the Book of Mormon, church members commonly use them to describe how their epistemology “works.”  The first passage is often cited to illustrate that truth must “make sense” logically (“in your mind”) before it can be accepted as confirmed by the holy ghost.  The other necessary component is the feeling (“in your heart”).  If people are having trouble "receiving" (or perhaps--producing) this undefined mind/heart confirmation, the second passage is used to suggest that the question must be studied more thoroughly before god gives his confirmation.  Of course, not everyone experiences a timely or unambiguous “confirmation,” and this can force Mormons to equivocate as to what can be deemed an answer, as this flowchart humorously illustrates.  Confirmation bias then takes care of the rest.

[The following paragraph was not included in the original letter, mostly because I'm sure Mr. Dawkins can put two and two together, but I think it deserves being said nonetheless.]

As the linked flowchart says, these "spiritual" experiences are common across all religions, so if they really are coming from god, they are of little use in discerning the "correct" religion.  This is yet another fact that your average Mormon either doesn't realize or never thinks about, due to the very insular nature of their culture and upbringing.  The average Mormon does not have the occasion or desire to study other religions.  The closest they get is going on a mission, and in that context, the missionary only studies the other religion to the extent needed to establish some sort of broad "common ground," so that the discussion can be brought back to the "good" in Mormonism that they want to add to whatever it is the person already believes.  So essentially, the church superimposes itself onto human emotions that arise in a variety of both religious and non-religious contexts.  The peace and joy one feels while listening to an uplifting church message, for example, might be indistinguishable from the emotions felt while listening to a musical masterpiece.  The excitement a Mormon missionary feels at a training conference might be the same felt by people at a political pep rally.  By usurping what are simply common human experiences and declaring them confirmatory of Mormonism's foundational claims, the church is in a position where it can't lose.  At least, so long as the member doesn't critically examine the entire epistemological framework being presented.

Mormons place paramount importance on these "spiritual" confirmations, which is why they are so heavily emphasized from such a young age (related lessons are taught in Sunday school classes beginning at 18 months).  Once Mormons believe that god has confirmed some event or proposition to be true (i.e. the Book of Mormon being a historical record), then that is the end of the discussion.  No amount of contrary facts or evidence will sway a Mormon who believes god himself has confirmed some truth to her.  As long as Mormons believe this epistemological framework is valid, they will dismiss contrary evidence through any number of rationalizations with which they have been equipped (e.g. “That issue isn’t necessary for my salvation.”  “We’ll have answers after this life.”  “God works through imperfect instruments.” “God’s thoughts are not our thoughts.”  Etc.).  Mormons follow a simple, illogical progression: “If the Book of Mormon is true, then Joseph Smith was a prophet, and everything else he ever did/said was of God.”  Typically, this flawed epistemology will have to break down in a Mormon’s eyes before she begins to recognize just how absurd many of her beliefs actually are.  This is why mere reference to the implausibility of certain positions will not always evoke the type of cognitive dissonance in a Mormon’s mind that would normally be expected.  Unfortunately, because of the insular nature of the Mormon church, and due to its tireless efforts at controlling the information available to its members, many Mormons do not ever have occasion to critically reflect on the validity of their beliefs.

I hope the foregoing has, to some extent, helped resolve your perplexity over how so many Mormons believe the crazy things they do.  If you’re ever curious to see for yourself how strongly the Mormons push this type of thinking on others, simply ask the Mormon missionaries how you can “know” whether what they’re telling you is true.  I can almost guarantee they will tell you something similar to what I’ve related above.

Thank you for all you do to champion science and reason throughout the world.  All the best.

Sincerely,

[Skeptical]

We will be our own saviors, if at all

Most religions believe in some sort of afterlife or continuation of a "soul" after death.  Apocalyptic religions are those that believe in some type of catastrophic "end times" event that culminates in a supernatural being coming in to right the wrongs and injustices in the world.  Jesus was an apocalyptic Jew.  Christians carried on this tradition, but made Jesus the apocalyptic savior that comes back and saves them while destroying the wicked.

I now see the folly in this way of thinking.  This goes along with an earlier post of mine regarding god (or godly thinking) being "lazy."  I think any religion that believes and advocates that a supernatural being is going to come in and rescue us, and solve all our problems (including death), is both harmful and counterproductive.  Adherents to such beliefs will feel less motivation to solve the myriad of problems and difficulties facing humanity.  After all, if Jesus is going to come back any day now, what's the point?  He'll institute a world governance that will address all problems, or maybe use his magic to cure them all directly.  Back in my believing days, whenever people preached about the dangers of man-made climate change, I largely dismissed them, thinking "It's okay, God isn't going to let things get that bad before Jesus comes back."  I really did think like that.  I'm confident that many believers feel similarly.

Believers in apocalyptic end times may even contribute, directly or indirectly, to the aggravation of the world's problems.  There are millions of Christians who would see silver lining in the detonation of a nuclear bomb by some rogue state or terrorist.  Openly they would acknowledge it as a tragedy, but privately, and perhaps in religious circles, they would whisper about the imminence of Jesus' second coming.  It happens after every catastrophic world event.  Many people thought the end was around the corner after the events of September 11, 2001--I know I did.  Even if apocalyptic believers don't directly contribute to the worsening of world problems, their very attitudes may indirectly serve to enable and propagate them.  If billions of people around the world believe that the last apocalyptic battle will be fought in Jerusalem, should we be surprised that there is so much conflict there?  Establishing Israel as an independent state after WWII was, in part, a result of this apocalyptic Christian belief.  Thus, we have Christians striving to self-fulfill calamitous "prophecy," and people suffer and die because of it.

The problem of death is easily the biggest one that religion seeks to solve.  Religion assures us that this life is not all there is, that we will continue to exist even after all our organs fail.  Naturally, I can see why this message is attractive.  Most of us cherish life and do not want it to end.  This belief brings us peace and the assurance that we will see our loved ones that have predeceased us.  During the many thousands of years of human civilization, this belief has been useful in inspiring people to do many things they might not otherwise do.  But in this day and age, with the technologies we have, and the extent to which we have already prolonged human life, I think it's time for this belief to be discarded.

The reality is that if anyone is going to save humanity from its problems (again, including death), it's humans.  We will be our own saviors, if at all.  In the beginning, mankind created god in its own image; and in the end, mankind will transcend itself and become "god," provided it doesn't destroy itself in the process.  Humanity faces many problems and existential threats.  We are capable of destroying ourselves and virtually all life on the planet in an alarmingly short amount of time.  Our development of biotechnology and nanotechnology enables us to create and innovate even more ways of self-destruction.  There is also the possibility (however remote) that we get hit by a large asteroid and experience another mass-extinction event, like the dinosaurs.  If we do not reverse or dramatically reduce our carbon footprint, we risk destroying our environment.  We have to face these problems head on.  We created most of these problems, and we alone will be responsible for fixing and/or avoiding them.

This perspective is, admittedly, frightening at first.  But that is often the case with reality.  After the initial fright and discomfort subsides, I find this perspective very empowering.  Such a paradigm shift would constitute what psychologists call an internalization of one's locus of control (typically seen as a good thing).  I look around me at all the amazing things we are innovating and creating.  I am convinced that it is within our ability to solve climate change, eliminate hunger and poverty, dramatically prolong human life (perhaps even to the point of achieving some form of immortality), and achieve world peace.  None of the solutions are necessarily simple, but they are within our reach, and it is up to us--and only us--to realize them.  This means that we have to turn our focus away from the imaginary savior in the skies and inward, on ourselves.  We have to become responsible and accountable.  No one is going to bail us out.  No one will save us but ourselves.

Real Hopes, Real Fears

My desertion of religious faith was, at first, bittersweet.  As I've expressed before, I initially mourned the loss of hope for immortality and eternal life with a heavenly father and my family.  On the other hand, with welcome relief I let go of fears of coming under godly condemnation and possibly being separated from my family forever.

Now I look back on my old religious hopes and fears with some embarrassment.  They were all illusory.  My fears were taught to me.  I feared gays and their diabolical "agenda."  I feared "worldly" pleasures and the misery they would undoubtedly bring to my life.  I feared the calamities incident to the imminent second coming of Jesus.  I feared going to Mormon hell.  So many useless fears.  I might as well have wasted time fearing the monster under my bed or the bogeyman in my closet.  My religious hopes were similarly silly.  As a kid I would actually sit around and daydream about the types of worlds I would create once I became a god.  I read a lot of science fiction and fantasy books, so I had quite the imagination.  Little did I realize that being a god in Mormon thought means being pretty much like our god and just implementing a silly plan that requires a savior and damnation for a large chunk of your offspring, over and over, for all eternity.  No thanks.

Nowadays I feel like my hopes and fears are much more material.  I fear the following (in no particular order): man-made environmental ruin, nuclear holocaust, biological warfare, death, human extinction, etc.  As a believer, I didn't worry about any of these, because I believed that no matter how bad things got, God would never allow humans to annihilate themselves, and death was no big deal because hey, resurrection and immortality for all, right?  Now that I no longer cling to such beliefs, the dangers in the world become much more salient.  While I recognize that global violence is actually at its lowest levels in recorded history, I also acknowledge that our self-destructive abilities are great than they've ever been.  We literally have the ability to wipe out virtually all human life on the planet overnight.  And there isn't any deity that would step in to intervene.  That would be the end of humanity.

On the other hand, my hopes are now much more real, as well.  I have genuine hope that despite the dangers, perils, and threats that we face (mostly self-made), we will innovate new and better ways to deal with our problems.  Technology and modern science are two-edged swords, but I think the progress they have generated is undeniable.  I believe that someday we will figure out a way to cure most, if not all, of our biological problems.  I think reversal of aging will become commonplace someday.  I think we will be able to achieve de facto immortality--perhaps not in my lifetime, but at some point in the future.  There are companies now that offer cryogenic services where for a fee, you can have your brain or body frozen in liquid nitrogen in an effort to preserve you until a time in the (perhaps distant) future when science will have come up with a way to resuscitate bodies and prolong life.  I'm seriously considering it myself (my brain, at least), as I think it's worth the risk/cost.  (Besides, worst case scenario is that it doesn't work, and I'm dead anyway.)  Some might call that crazy; I call it covering all my bases, because I'm certainly not going to count on the existence of a soul and life after death as described by the religious.

Have I Rediscovered Religion?

No, not really.  It's actually much better than that.  Lately I've been listening to the audio book version of "The Singularity is Near" by Ray Kurzweil.  It talks about an imminent "singularity," which is defined as the point at which the rate of technological progress becomes so great, we won't be able to follow it unaided and the results may be totally unpredictable.  An example would be the creation of an artificial superintelligence which improves upon its design in very quick successive generations.

The author of the book thinks this point is relatively near.  He thinks it will happen by the middle of this century.  He talks about the exponential rate of growth in technology that has happened in recent centuries and in particular the last 50 years.  He claims that we are very close to developing biotechnology that could halt--or even reverse--the aging process.  Mr. Kurzweil himself takes an enormous amount of supplements which he says has greatly slowed his personal aging process.  At 56, he claims he was given the biological age of 40, for instance.  He also describes efforts to reverse-engineer the brain.  This is apparently very important if we are to develop full immersion virtual realities, which he believed (in 2004) would happen in this decade.  He asserts that nanotechnology will radically change our mode of existence, particularly when we are able to develop billions and trillions of self-replicating nanobots to perform specific functions in our bodies.

He makes a lot of other predictions.  I don't know how realistic his timeline of anticipated developments is, but his conviction is palpable.  For the first time since abandoning religious faith, I'm starting to feel a "hope" in something greater.  This time, however, my "hope" is based on a methodology that has a great track record for producing tangible, useful results--i.e., science.  I find it beautifully ironic that science, arguably religion's greatest nemesis, may be the tool that ultimately realizes religion's main promise: immortality.  Most religions provide for some kind of rationalization of death, whether by the continuation of the soul, reincarnation, resurrection, etc.  The problem is that they offer no mechanism by which it happens other than "magic" of some sort.  Science, on the other hand, has already proven itself by greatly extending life expectancies all over the developed world.  It continues to do so.  It not only prolongs our lives, but makes them less painful and more enjoyable.  In just a century we went from horse and buggy to automobiles and planes.  Cars can already drive themselves to a limited extent, and that technology will simply improve in the future.  There are also mechanisms in place and being developed that allow us to control robotic arms with brain signals.  There are so many things happening right now; the change and development is very exciting.

In the Mormon church, I was constantly reminded that we live in an exciting time--the last days before the coming of our Lord!  Of course, they (meaning all of Christianity) have been saying that for the past 2,000 years, so I'm not waiting by the phone.  But now I think we have very good reason to believe that we're living in the most important episode of human evolution.  We evolved biologically for millions of years before modern humans emerged some 100,000 years ago.  With the development of agriculture around 12,000 years ago, technological development could commence, and now in that short time span, we stand on the precipice of something big.  This is our defining moment: either we will transcend our current mode of existence in some way, or we will destroy ourselves in the process--because it is all too clear that technological development has never been without potential perils and side effects.  I feel confident, however, that we will overcome the challenges in front of us and realize our true potential.

A Mormon Just Believes

One of the many discoveries made by those coming out of Mormonism concerns the fundamentally flawed nature of Mormon epistemology.  Mormons often claim to "know" certain things about their religion.  During the first Sunday of each month, a portion of church services is dedicated to allowing members to get up in front of the congregation and "bear their testimonies."  Now, this "testimony" is nothing like what is normally associated with that word.  To a lawyer, for instance, "testimony" is typically an assertion of personal knowledge, belief, or opinion that someone makes under oath.  If an assertion is mere belief or opinion, it must be distinguished from knowledge. Knowledge must be based on your own sensory perception and cannot be based on hearsay (subject to certain exceptions).

For Mormons, a testimony is a statement of their "knowledge" of the truthfulness of the church or some aspect thereof.  So during this "testimony meeting," you will hear Mormons get up and say "I know the church is true" or "I know Joseph Smith was a prophet" or "I know that the Book of Mormon is true."  The problem with all of these knowledge assertions is that they conceal the mechanism by which the Mormons allegedly gained such knowledge.  You see, Mormons (and perhaps all religious/spiritual people) believe that they can deduce knowledge/truth by way of feelings.  They will often pray to God, or engage in some church-related activity, and simultaneously have some kind of inward feeling of peace, joy, or serenity.  This emotional experience can be interpreted in a number of ways, but in the Mormon context, it invariably will be seen as a confirmation of the "truth" of some proposition.

So when a Mormon gets up and says "I know the Book of Mormon is true," they're being intellectually dishonest.  They don't "know" the Book of Mormon is true in the same way that you know that you're staring at a computer screen right now, or that you know you had fruity pebbles for breakfast this morning.  Their "knowledge" is not based on objectively observable evidence, as is the case for virtually all acceptable claims to knowledge.  Instead, their "knowledge" is based on the interpretation of a subjective feeling.  To make an honest statement, they would have to describe the mechanism by which they allegedly gained their knowledge, such as "I was reading the Book of Mormon last night and had a strong feeling of peace and serenity.  I interpreted that feeling as coming from the spirit of God, and I believe the feeling signifies that the Book of Mormon is true."  It's important to note that this honest statement uses the words "interpret" and "believe," not "know."  All that Mormon really knows is that he/she had a feeling while doing a particular activity.  Anything beyond that is necessarily a reflective process of interpretation and belief.

I tried to illustrate this important distinction recently with one of my sisters.  During a road trip, she asked me what my thoughts were about the church (I recently "came out" to my mom regarding my disbelief, and thus word had gotten around).  I told her that I no longer believed it and that I viewed all religions as man-made.  A few more hours transpired on the road trip without further discussion on the topic, but when we were almost to our destination, my sister asked if she could "bear her testimony" to me.  I of course said yes.  She then proceeded to assert knowledge of various things, such as the truthfulness of the church, the gospel, and so forth.  When she was done, the following conversation took place (roughly paraphrased):

Me:  How do you know?
Sister: Because I feel that it's true.
Me:  How do you know those feelings signify that something is true?
Sister:  Because the spirit of God confirms it through feelings.
Me:  How do you know the spirit of God confirms the truth of things through feelings?
Sister:  Because I believe . . .
Me:  Exactly.  What you have is belief, not knowledge.

Now I didn't engage in this little Socratic exchange for the purpose of tricking my sister.  I did it for the purpose of making an important point: ultimately, Mormons just believe.  Mormons are not accustomed to having their claims to knowledge (testimonies) challenged; at least, not past the first level.  But the regression incited by a series of "How do you know" questions will ultimately result in an admission of belief, not knowledge.

Many readers might be thinking "Well of course, all religious claims require faith/belief."  True!  But in that case, call it what it is.  Don't claim to have knowledge of something when all you really have is belief.  That is dishonest, confusing, and even a little arrogant.  If I claimed to "know" that Alex shot Bob, but then upon further inquiry it is revealed that my basis for knowledge is that Carl told me that Alex shot Bob, then you would rightly resent my initial misleading statement.  All I know is what Carl told me.  Anything beyond that is, of necessity, belief.  (Even worse, what if my claimed knowledge was based on a feeling/hunch!)  Similarly, if Mormons claim to know that Jesus lives, then I would hope their basis for knowledge is that a bearded guy with marks in his hands and feet walked across their swimming pool, introduced himself as "Jesus," shook their hand, and then turned the water in the pool into wine.  If their claim to knowledge is simply that they had some kind of emotional experience while praying or thinking about Jesus, then all they have is belief, and that is all that they should claim.

As the following video hilariously illustrates, a Mormon just believes.

On Being a Mormon Male: the Priesthood

In the Mormon church, the men are given what is called the "priesthood."  The priesthood is believed to be the power/authority of God to administer church ordinances (sacraments), perform miracles, heal the sick, heck even create worlds.  Mormons believe that this power was given to the apostles by Jesus, but was lost from the earth when all the original apostles died.  They believe that it was then restored to the earth through angelic visitors (first, a reanimated John the Baptist, and later, Peter, James, and John) to Joseph Smith, the church's founder.  The "priesthood" is a pretty big deal to the church and they take it very seriously.  Needless to say, the actual events of the priesthood "restoration" are highly dubious, as discussed here.

Nevertheless, the priesthood plays a major role in the Mormon church today.  Only men receive it.  Women are (conveniently) assigned the task of child bearing and rearing, so that is their equivalent function.  Mormons believe that the priesthood is required to receive special revelations on behalf of the church or congregations, and thus church leadership is dominated by men only.  There is the concept of "honoring" one's priesthood, which essentially means serving in the church, doing what you're told, and following the rules.  Mormon men will ascend the ranks of church leadership to the extent they are believed to "magnify" and honor their priesthood responsibilities.

Authorities in the church are highly respected.  A bishop, for example, is a man called to oversee a single Mormon congregation (termed a "ward"), much like a pastor.  He is generally highly esteemed by his members and other congregation leaders.  Above a bishop is a stake president, who oversees a cluster of wards.  He, in turn, is even more highly esteemed and respected by the members of these wards.  Above the stake president are regional authorities, area authorities, and then the top echelons of church leadership: general authorities.  These men are called "seventies" (of the first and second quorums of the seventy) and above them, apostles (the quorum of the twelve apostles).  These men are revered and practically worshiped by faithful church members, many of whom believe that these men are in frequent, direct communion with God or Jesus.

Because church leaders are so respected, there is latent competition to aspire to leadership positions.  This competition is reinforced by many Mormon women, who are taught from a young age that they should only marry a "worthy priesthood holder" who can take them to the Mormon holy temple for eternal marriage.  Thus, Mormon women will often demand, either openly or privately, a mate who "honors his priesthood."  (If you browse any Mormon dating websites, you will see language to this effect.)

Now all of this would be well and good if "honoring" the priesthood was the equivalent to being a good person.  But that is not the case.  Now, to be fair, there will be substantial overlap in the Venn diagram of "Honoring Priesthood" and "Being a Good Person," but the overlap is not complete.  The two are not one and the same.  To be a good priesthood holder, you must attend countless meetings which take away from time with your family, or time better spent fostering meaningful relationships with friends or the community.  You will also be expected to frequently attend the Mormon temples, where "service" is done for dead people.  (That's right: service....for dead people.)  You will be expected to fulfill church assignments that may or may not be productive, needed, or useful (e.g. visiting people who have no desire to be visited).

One might object at this point and say that all the "negatives" I just mentioned are simply in addition to what it takes to be a basic, good person.  A Mormon might say that honoring his priesthood means doing all the good things in the "Being a Good Person" circle in the Venn diagram, and then some.  In their minds, perhaps, the "Honoring One's Priesthood" circle fully encompasses the lesser "Being a Good Person" circle.  For the reasons stated above, I disagree.  There is only so much time in the day, and aside from basic responsibilities such as work and living, a Mormon man will have a relatively small budget of time with which to do other things.  Often, he will be forced to choose between tasks required to honor his priesthood responsibilities, or activities that might strengthen his bonds with family and friends.  He cannot be in two places at once, so a choice must be made.  And, needless to say, church assignments are not categorically more worthy of one's time than family activities.  They also are certainly not automatically better than many other activities not related to family at all.

On a separate but related topic, the Mormon priesthood allows Mormon males to develop a certain aspect of their personality that is of limited practical value, but which still enjoys high artificial value in the minds of Mormons.  This can be illustrated in the competitive world of mate selection.  In the real world, men will compete for the attention of women based on looks, intelligence, personality, and sense of humor.  All of these factors play a role in the Mormon world, as well, but there is one "trump" factor in the form of spirituality and the priesthood.  A man may neglect to develop other real-world facets of his persona that might make a normal man attractive or competitive in favor of one that is only valuable within the Mormon religious context.  So who cares if the Mormon man has let himself go physically and has the personality of a wet towel: at least he's spiritual and attends all his priesthood meetings!  If Mormons were completely isolated from the real world, perhaps this warped values system would work out just fine; but they're not.  And to the extent these less useful characteristics are reinforced and propagated to the next generation, they serve as a great disservice to Mormons trying to function in the real world.  Outside of the church, no one cares that you attend your priesthood meetings or have hundreds of scriptures memorized.  Such skills have little practical value.

I have often thought of Mormonism as a big bubble, just waiting to burst.  People toe the line and keep reaffirming beliefs because they see everyone else doing it.  The value attached to honoring one's priesthood is similarly a bubble.  As more and more people come to realize how tenuous and preposterous this priesthood notion is, the bubble will eventually burst.  Lord have mercy on the Mormon men at that time who have sunk so much capital into this worthless asset.  For them, it may be too late to develop the skills and character necessary to make it outside of the church.

"Church Leaders Aren't Perfect"

Critics of past or present Mormon church leaders are often met with this retort by believing Mormons or apologists.  It is variously put as "Prophets are imperfect men when not speaking under the power and inspiration of the Spirit" or "the church is perfect but its members/leaders aren't."  Okay, I agree that no Mormon "prophet" has ever been perfect.  However, I don't know that this excuse has the explanatory power commonly attributed to it.

This justification might account for inadvertent mistakes.  For example, a miscalculation of how long it might take to cross the plains, or how much food would be needed for the journey.  That could be a product of well-intentioned but erroneous thinking.  Another more 'innocent' mistake might be found in Joseph's loss of the 116 pages.  He certainly didn't intend for them to be lost, but he ultimately ignored his reservations and allowed Martin Harris to take them; sure enough, they were never seen again.

But many (perhaps most) of the criticisms leveled against these imperfect prophetic personages do not involve innocent or inadvertent (negligent) mistakes.  Rather, they are deliberate and calculated actions for which no apology is offered or expected.  These are not "oops" moments.  They are not "I used my best judgment, but things went awry" situations.  You don't accidentally or carelessly marry 14-year-old girls.  You don't mistakenly order the slaughter of hundreds of men, women, and children.  You don't accidentally concoct a bunch of nonsense and call it a literal translation of ancient Egyptian papyri.  You don't mistakenly ban the priesthood from a certain race for over 150 years.  You don't accidentally teach false notions on the origin of Adam and God.  Indeed, when it comes to spiritual matters, this is supposed to be the domain and expertise of the Lord's anointed.  If there is documented proof that prophets taught concepts that are now declared false doctrine by the church, how does one trust anything else said prophet ever declared?

This excuse should never be used as a blanket get-out-of-jail-free card.  Each incident should be evaluated individually to determine whether the man in question made an honest mistake in judgment, or whether he usurped his authority and deliberately did something deplorable.  Some situations may be a combination of the two.  This notion, like many others in the church, serves as a substitute for critical thinking and keeps naive Mormons in blissful ignorance.  It needs to go the way of the dodo.