Three (surprising) General Authority Statements on Tolerance (in Conference)

[Cross-posted from NewCoolThang.com from April 14. 2013]

I’m sure most people are sick of conference posts by now. Timing isn’t my best quality. That being said, I’m not sure what to make of these three statements about tolerance from conference:

• Packer: “Tolerance is a virtue, but like all virtues, when exaggerated, it transforms itself into a vice. We need to be careful of the “tolerance trap” so that we are not swallowed up in it. The permissiveness afforded by the weakening of the laws of the land to tolerate legalized acts of immorality does not reduce the serious spiritual consequence that is the result of the violation of God’s law of chastity.”

• Oaks: “Latter-day Saints understand that we should not be “of the world” or bound to “the tradition of men”… These failures to follow Christ … range all the way from worldly practices like political correctness and extremes in dress and grooming to deviations from basic values like the eternal nature and function of the family.” 

• Monson: “May we be tolerant of, as well as kind and loving to, those who do not share our beliefs and our standards. The Savior brought to this earth a message of love and goodwill to all men and women. May we ever follow His example.” 

These three statements don’t technically clash. They are all vague enough to allow all of them to be right. But the implicit messages are wildly different. Should we beware of tolerant practices (i.e. political correctness, Oaks), embrace tolerance (Monson), or show some kind of measured restraint on being tolerant (Packer)?

Tolerance is one of those interesting topics in religion. I have consistently found myself struggling to justify tolerance to some of my more conservative friends (and, in some cases, my more liberal friends). Jesus never taught, “be ye therefore tolerant.” And as it turns out, in the broad scheme of things, tolerance is a relatively new value. The farthest back I can trace it is to the mid-seventeenth century. Some background may help.

The Thirty Years War—1618-1648—was one of the most tragic periods in all of western history. It was the culmination of Protestant and Catholic hatred and was horrifyingly bloody. The war involved most of Europe and was fought mainly in Germany. It’s estimated that up to half of the male population in Germany died in the war, and whole villages were destroyed. But why?

There are lots of reasons for the Thirty Years war, but one way or another religion was one of the most important factors. Europe didn’t have a culture of tolerance in the 17th century. The Thirty Years war changed that. Skip ahead a century and a half, and you find the American Founders adding an amendment to enshrine religious tolerance as a civic virtue (keeping religion and state separate). But, I reiterate, they imposed tolerance on a deeply religious nation as a civic virtue. (Interesting when you think about the context: Now-a-days, people get upset when school choirs sing Christmas carols, but the Founders were a little more worried about different people lynching each other over religion).

Fast forward to last month. With the same-sex marriage debate now in front of the Supreme Court, and people across the nation clamoring for marriage equality, religion and tolerance have again come to head. Should we be tolerant, or not? As you can see from the statements above, the lines aren’t clearly established in Mormonism (nor in any of the monotheistic religion). And as we observe the tension play out among the general authorities, perhaps each one of us should ask ourselves how tolerant does God really want us to be? Because as I comb through the scriptures and read these quotes above, I don’t know if I have a clear answer.

Moral Rightness and the Same Sex Marriage Debate

[Cross-posted from NewCoolThang.com from March 26, 2013]

Hot off the presses, you can listen to the oral arguments over the Same Sex marriage debate before the Supreme Court. I highly recommend it.

I want to bring up some of the highlights by comparing the competing value structures that the two sides rely on to make their case. So you’re getting a philosophical post and a political post for the price of one. But why the philosophy? Because the moral values both sides bring to the debate rest at the very heart of how they justify their positions. This is a useful tool to get at the bias inherent to each side’s argument.

Consequentialism and Deontology Crash Course
There are two moral systems colliding in this debate: consequentialism and deontology. The conservatives rely mainly on deontological arguments and the liberals rely mainly on consequentialist arguments. What’s the difference?

Consequentialism is the idea that you can judge the rightness of an act based on its consequences. There are a lot of good reasons to be consequentialists. Take for example, a war situation. A bunch of soldiers are in a bunker when a live grenade lands in the middle of them. Suddenly one heroic soldier jumps on the grenade and saves everyone else. Do we think that person did the morally right thing? Of course. He saved the lives of all the other soldiers. What about the fact that our hero committed suicide? Doesn’t matter. Everyone else is safe. The calculus that goes into making a sacrifice generally demands that we think about the consequences. In short, consequences matter.

Deontology is the idea that an act is either morally right or wrong regardless of the consequences. Most people have a lot of deontological views. For example, rape. Why is rape wrong? Because it is. What happens if you apply a consequentialist framework to judging the moral rightness of rape? My ROTC friend told me that an army field manual says rape is wrong because “it lowers company morale.” That may be true, but I think we can all agree that that answer is seriously disturbing. Sometimes we don’t need to weigh in the consequences, we just know that something is wrong.

It turns out that most people use both moral systems all the time. We use whatever helps express our values on a subject. So how does this apply to the Same Sex marriage debate?

Pro-Prop 8 Deontology
Charles Cooper (pro-Prop 8 lawyer) points out that marriage is a traditional institution protected by the state. Fair enough. But why should it stay an only opposite-sex union? Cooper tries to gives some consequentialist justifications, but they don’t stick.

Cooper argues that marriage is about the procreative power, and protecting marriage the way it is furthers the state’s purposes (ie making future citizens). Justice Kagan grills Cooper on this point. What about an opposite-sex couple that marries after they are 55? Should the state keep them from getting married since they clearly can’t procreate? Cooper of course has to say no, but he can’t explain why the answer is no except by appealing to his initial claim: traditional marriage exists between opposite sex couples only. That’s the marital norm. Cooper’s argument isn’t so much a deflection so much as it is a retreat to deontological grounds, where the Prop 8 argument works best.

The deontological position for Prop 8 is fairly simple. God ordained opposite-sex marriage but not same-sex marriage. Cooper stays away from citing religion. He replaces God with tradition, but the argument works the same way: Marriage’s traditional meaning includes only opposite-sex couples. Why? Because that’s how its been understood for thousands of years.

Cooper then suffers a consequentialist sting from Justice Kennedy. There are 40,000 children of same sex couples in California that would want their parents to have “full recognition and full status” for their marriage. Doesn’t the Prop 8 ban hurt them (implying that if it hurts them, then the law should be changed)?

Cooper points to a data problem. And it turns out that this is one of the major sticking points of the case. The sociological studies on the effects of same sex marriage are far too new and far too inconclusive to give concrete help in settling the matter. That may be good for Cooper’s answer to Kennedy, but it doesn’t help Cooper make the consequentialist argument he wants to. That same sex couples suffer in at least some way from Prop 8 is evident, that society would suffer even more from same sex marriage is not evident. And without some good consequence-based data, Cooper’s doesn’t work well outside the deontological framework.

Anti-Prop 8 Consequentialism
So does that make same sex marriage proponents immoral? Hardly. Listen to Ted Olson’s arguments (pro-same sex marriage lawyer), and you find consequentialist arguments.

Olson argues that marriage is a fundamental right. Why? That’s a tricky question to answer, especially in the context of California law. California state law gives same-sex unions all of the privileges that opposite-sex marriages enjoy minus the label. Justice Roberts questions Olson over this. If the privileges are (almost) identical, then why change the definition of marriage to mean something it has never meant before? Olson appeals to consequentialist grounds: “marriage has a status, recognition, support….” In other words, there are social advantages to marriage, and that implies consequences.

Just as Cooper crossed shakily to the consequentialist camp, Olson has a tough time in deontological territory. The deontological argument for same-sex marriage would be something like: states can’t limit marriages to sexual orientation because it is wrong to discriminate against sexual orientation. Why? Discrimination is wrong. Fine.

But consider a paradox that several of the Justices raised in one way or another to Solicitor General Donald Verrilli arguing in Olson’s favor (Olson struggled with this point too, but it comes out best with Verrilli). Remember how California gives same-sex unions identical privileges to opposite-sex marriages? According to Verilli, that violates equal protection and the state should have to give marriage to everyone. But many states don’t have laws that separate same-sex unions from opposite-sex marriages. If they don’t have anything on the books to separate the unions from the marriages, then they can’t be guilty of discrimination, even though they clearly are. Here’s the paradox: Those states would only be forced to accept same-sex marriage under the equal protection clause if they first legally acknowledge same-sex unions. How would they do that? By giving same-sex unions legal privileges that opposite-sex marriages enjoy. How could that be right?

Verrilli, like Olson, tried to navigate through the paradox by limiting their claim. They argued that the Supreme Court decision should apply only to California. But if that’s true, the decision would incentivize states that don’t want same-sex marriage to forbid same-sex unions entirely. If same-sex marriage is right because discriminating is wrong (the deontological argument), then Verrilli contradicts the deontological justification he gives to advance his claim. He’s incentivizing discrimination beyond the mere marriage label. The point is, the anti-Prop 8 argument works well in a consequentialist paradigm, but struggles in a deontological one.

So which moral system should we uphold in this debate, and why is it any better than the other?

Background to the Blog

By this point you've noticed the blog's subheading: doubt is faith's soil

I admit that it's a bit of a cheesy one-liner, but it conveniently sums up how I feel skepticism and Mormonism work together.

In the Book of Mormon, Alma offers a metaphor describing faith like a seed.  After it's planted and nourished, it eventually turns into knowledge.  That's all fine of course, but how does someone go about nourishing the seed of faith?

Faith is, after all, merely a religiously laden term for trust.  It comes from the Latin fidere, which is the verb "to trust."  When the many writers of the scriptures command us to have faith in Jesus Christ, all they are really saying is that we are supposed to actually trust Him.  That's all.  We exercise faith literally every day with virtually every person we meet.  Most of that faith is so normative, it doesn't even require thought.  I exercise a great deal of faith that someone else's mistake won't cost me my life when I leave my house.  But without faith that I can leave my house safely, there's no sense in ever leaving.  Without faith I would be immobilized.

Naturally, not everything should be taken on faith.  Not everyone claiming to be a Nigerian prince in an email is actually a prince.  Or Nigerian for that matter.  Trusting some things requires doubting others.  Lacking doubt means believing everything, which apart from being silly is technically impossible.  In essence, it's possible to believe too much (believe it or not).

Doubt and faith are essentially alternatives.  But they have an even deeper connection to each other than that.  It's impossible to truly have faith without believing that there's a chance, however small, that the thing we are trusting could be wrong.  Faith doesn't exist without doubt, without that tiny itch at the back of your head that tells you that you might just be wrong.  Granted, the itch isn't always there, especially for rudimentary tasks such as leaving the house.  But for any activity where faith is a conscious choice, doubt lingers somewhere in the same room.  To have faith means to doubt and then overcome that doubt with trust.  Growing trust is a slow, often painstaking process.  Because trust in God is not always immediately or clearly rewarded, it is a difficult trust to cultivate.  However, as we intuitively know from interacting with just about anyone, rewarded trust increases trust.  As trust grows, it pulls away from doubt, like a plant from its soil.  But as long as it's still faith, then doubt is what gives it strength.