Archive for the ‘News and Events’ Category

By Guy Burnett

The Obama Administration has been handed one of the most striking defeats against its recently invigorated EEOC. On January 11, at the hands of the Supreme Court (including both of President Obama’s own appointees), the EEOC was struck down in its attempt to put further controls on religious rights. In Hosanna-Tabor Evangelical Lutheran Church and School v. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission et al., the Court found that the First Amendment protected religions from federal intrusion regarding employment practices. Minister Cheryl Perich, who had taken a leave of absence due to a diagnosed case of narcolepsy, found her teaching position at the Hosanna-Tabor Lutheran School filled when she returned. Relying on ADA case law, Perich and the EEOC sued the school over unlawful termination. In a 9-0 decision, the Supreme Court sided with Hosanna-Tabor, noting that religions may hire and fire those it deems necessary to further its mission of proclaiming the faith.

The facts and decision of the case are not as complicated or as shocking as other church and state decisions that have come before the Court. Certainly it was not the inflammatory Oregon v. Smith (1992) — the same case that had Congress scrambling for a retaliatory strike. Indeed, a case allowing for the Lutheran Church to decide who its ministers are is hardly cause for a second glance. However, what is troubling is how the Court came to its decision. While not explicitly wrong in its reasoning or outcome, secreted away within the Hosanna-Tabor decision is the birth of a whole new and troubling vein of First Amendment interpretation.

In a concise and cautious opinion, Chief Justice John Roberts spins the decision around two major axes. First, the decision notes that there is a historically supported and appellate-court-held “ministerial exception” clause recognized around the time of the Civil Rights Act of 1964. The exception held that religious employees were not covered by employment discrimination laws. (In a knockout punch, Roberts recalls that it was James Madison who found that the First Amendment “comprehed[ed] even the election and removal of the Minister.”) The decision clearly introduces the new exception: “we agree that there is such a ministerial exception.” Roberts’ second point is that by introducing the exception into Supreme Court jurisprudence, the Court has now begun to create a working definition of “minister.” It is in the last of these two axes that Roberts kicks the hornet’s nest.

Historically, the ministerial exception has been grounded in the First Amendment to protect the mission and faith of any given religion or church. However, this clause is entirely new to the Court, and its parameters are undefined. The problem begins to rear its ugly head when the decision tackles the heart of the matter: what is a minister? It is in answering this question that Roberts gets creative — and with good reason. The concurring holdouts (Thomas, Alito, and Kagan) all take issue with the Court’s definition of minister, which could have led to a mutiny in the ranks and a possible 7-2 or 6-3 split. Roberts, ever cognizant of portraying a unified Court, crafts a definition which allows for just enough leeway to satisfy all 9 justices, but also leaves open the possibility of future winnowing. Addressing the overarching concern about what makes a “legal” minister, he notes, “we are reluctant, however, to adopt a rigid formula for deciding when an employee qualifies as a minister…in this our first case involving ministerial exception.”

In a penumbral aura akin to the foundations of the right to privacy found in Roe (“whether it [the decision] be founded in the Fourteenth Amendment’s concept of personal liberty and restrictions upon state action, as we feel it is, or, as the District Court determined, in the Ninth Amendment’s reservation of rights to the people, [the Constitution] is broad enough…”), Roberts plants the decision in unsure soil, opening it up to a future Court to decide the rest of the pesky particulars. He concludes, “there will be time enough to address the applicability of the exception to other circumstances if and when they arise.” In other words, in the bottom of the ninth, with two outs and the score tied, Roberts balks and leaves the field.

Thomas, in a two-page concurring opinion, writes what is possibly the best response to the Court’s controversy over the definition of minister. Thomas replies directly to Roberts by stating that the Court should not be delving into the definition in the first place, finding that it is up to the Court “to defer to a religious organization’s good-faith understanding of who qualifies as a minister.” Not all religions share the same terminology, and for the Court to create another test is already involving itself too much in the affairs of religion. If religion has its own sovereign sphere, let it be sovereign.

Conversely, the strange tag team of Alito and Kagan find that the Court’s deference to an unknown definition is too problematic for future Court decisions. Alito writes that a definition of minister, should, for the cases where ministerial exception is used, be something that is legally defined. He notes, “different religions will have different views on exactly what qualifies as an important religious position, but it is nonetheless possible to identify a general category of ‘employees’ whose functions are essential to the independence of practically all religious groups.” In other words, if you’re going to recognize a new test at the Supreme Court level, define it. Although they offer a few pointers for future consideration, they, too, abscond from this duty, and end restating that Perich was a minister because of her role and actions and thus subject to the ministerial exception.

Roberts balks, Thomas recoils, and Alito and Kagan push for more.

The case is remarkable because the public has witnessed the graduation of an appellate court test to the Supreme Court level, with all of its attendant insecurities and obfuscations. When one begins to think it through, the open, yet binding, definition of a minister is an invitation for mischief for the Court. For instance, as Thomas notes, what if a religion does not use the precise term “minister” in their clergy, or recognize something akin to it? The Court would have no choice but to intervene and attempt to codify every sundry religion within the US. The very nature of the definition itself leads to a civil definition of religion. It can be argued that the IRS and other agencies already do have a legal definition of religion, which is true for taxation and other purposes. However, the IRS does not attempt to codify the intricacies, mysteries, doctrines, and terminology of every religion under its watchful eye. Codification would become necessary if the government were to start applying legal consequences to definitions — including that of minister. Would a new religion be able to survive the codices if it didn’t measure up? Would religions need to conform to the terminology in order to be legally protected? Would the very definition of religion suddenly come under scrutiny by a group of legally-minded bureaucrats? For the government to begin defining terminology within a religion is to invite the wolf into the henhouse. While Roberts does not go this far, he leaves it open for such mischief to occur.

The friends of religion and good government can claim that the case was a victory because it restated that religion is a fundamental and extra-governmental activity. In the current era of reduced religiosity, especially concerning organized religion, the Court’s decision demonstrates to the nation that religion is still apart from the government. Roberts’ forceful 9-0 majority on the importance of religion in the democratic sphere has reinforced religion’s role in America and, it is hoped, in the hearts of the people. Far from contending with the nature of free government, Roberts’ decision has reinforced one of the most important principles taught by Jesus Christ, who said “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.” (Matthew 22:21 KJV)

Make no mistake, Hosanna-Tabor has created a victory by warding off Caesar for a time. How long the victory will last in its shaky foundations and open invitation for Court scrutiny is anyone’s guess. In the future, when the Court is faced with sundry decisions regarding church and state, the justices would be wise to take Roberts’ closing words of counsel: “the First Amendment has struck the balance for us.”

It is not enough to understand what liberty is in the abstract or know why it is important. Liberty-loving Latter-day Saints must also “correctly apply the principle to the policy,” or otherwise use their freedoms irresponsibly and “gradually lose their freedoms.” (136) Having laid the foundation of liberty, Connor Boyack takes the second half of his recently released Latter-day Liberty: A Gospel Approach to Government and Politics to show how this love of liberty should dictate Mormons’ approach to a wide range of political issues. In part one of my review, I offer what I see as the fatal flaws in Boyack’s theoretical foundation, no others more crippling than his short-sighted sense of liberty and his related lack of prudential concern for practical realities. In part two of this review, I lay out a case that touches on how these same flaws poison the application of his principles and lead to a dangerous mix of idealism and irresponsibility.

Boyack is right, of course, that LDS must learn to correctly apply true principles if they wish to preserve their liberty. Mormons are increasingly faced with a public sphere that threatens their values (and, in turn, their liberty) and obliges them to engage politically. But this is old news for anyone bearing the battle scars of Prop 8 and its aftermath. When most Americans think of the LDS Church’s involvement in politics, marriage is the singular issue comes to mind. Sure, those in Utah and Arizona might also think of immigration, but marriage remains the central concern. This makes it all the more curious that in a book laying out “a gospel approach to government and politics,” Boyack fails to tackle the most salient political issue members of the Church face today. While Latter-day Liberty addresses five policy questions — war, immigration, education, the war on drugs and welfare — I have chosen to focus on one of these issues in depth —immigration — rather than giving insufficient attention to each one. Along with my section on immigration, I also address the topic of marriage and show how Boyack’s conception of liberty leaves him unable to reasonably confront this most pressing issue facing Mormons in the public sphere.

Immigration and Responsibility to One’s Own

The debate surrounding immigration has caused more than its fair share of contention on both sides of the aisle in Utah and around the country in recent years. In his treatment of immigration, Boyack shows he is cognizant that the passions surrounding this issue run deep and where passions rise, reason and even faith often recede. Realizing this, Boyack is careful to root his call for an open door policy in a combination of libertarian principles and what he sees as the immigration standard set forth in the Book of Mormon. If the United States will be just with immigrants, Boyack argues, it must return to the open door policy that existed for the first century of American history.

While it is technically correct to say the United States had an open immigration policy for its first 100 years, this is misleading as immigration was largely controlled through federal naturalization laws during this period. At the time, few immigrants came to the country unless they could become a citizen. Boyack’s appeal to Founding principles, however, turns out to be immaterial because he finds the greatest authority for his position in a passage from the Book of Mormon’s book of Helaman:

And behold, there was peace in all the land, insomuch that the Nephites did go into whatsoever part of the land they would, whether among the Nephites or the Lamanites.” (Hel. 6: 7-9)

Boyack sees this passage as providing the ideal for which LDS should aim as they address immigration, but it is clear this is not an ideal Boyack has shelved for another day. For him, this ideal is actionable policy right now, and it is only held back by our immigration system’s racist and protectionist roots.

Let us stipulate that the United States’ immigration policy does indeed have a jaded past. Does this obviate government’s responsibility to protect the interests of its citizens today? Does the proposition that “all men are created equal” require that a country welcome everyone, regardless of practical concerns? Once again, the Founders did not think so. George Washington argued that while the government could give “bigotry no sanction,” it must require that “they who live under its protection should demean themselves as good citizens, in giving it on all occasions their effectual support.” For Washington, citizenship and even immigration had to be tied to moral character and good citizenship. While all men had “inherent natural rights,” these rights did not include being a bad citizen.

This concern for good citizens, however, was an outgrowth of a broader understanding that informed the Founders’ thinking. While Boyack argues that the truth that “all men are created equal” and “endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights” necessarily expands beyond our own borders and demands that we respect the right of individuals to freely migrate as long as they have not harmed another person (196-197), the Founders drew the opposite conclusion from these same principles. Far from dictating open immigration, the equality principle teaches that as every individual has the right to rule himself and associate with those whom he pleases, so it also allows for countries to establish rules for immigration. As homeowners have the right to permit or deny guests, so a country’s people has the right to reach a consensus about who may be a part of their body politic.

But this doesn’t fully answer Boyack’s argument. Even if government can legitimately restrict immigration, it doesn’t follow that it should. Boyack still insists that “today’s immigration laws cannot in any fathomable way be reconciled with a regard for individual liberty.” (195) Even more, those who argue to restrict immigration fail to consider the example given above from the Book of Helaman and even the more basic counsel to love one’s neighbor.

Could it really be this simple? John Adams Center President Ralph Hancock recently reminded us, regarding this same issue, that “[no] more than an individual can a nation afford to run faster than it has strength.” While eliminating all obstacles to immigration may seem like the moral, liberty-loving, and even compassionate thing to do, Hancock reminds us that doing so without prudence does not serve the country or even immigrants trying to reap the benefits of American opportunity. Statesmanship requires that political figures not only consider the pure ideal but also the practical realities that nearly always prevent its attainment, and even show why its radical imposition does more harm than good.

Apart from the more technical concerns related to jobs for immigrants, statesmen must remember that strong countries always rely on the degree to which its citizens are dedicated to some common idea of what is good and just. In other words, what is America all about? The United States’ founding ideas are beautifully captured in the Declaration of Independence, the writings of the Framers and more broadly in its intellectual and religious heritage. Any immigration policy must do its best to preserve these common convictions.

To consider another scriptural example, Alma 27 recounts another instance in the Book of Mormon where the Nephites freely accept the Anti-Nephi-Lehies as refugees. While this may seem like an instance supporting Boyack’s open door ideal, the Nephites only accepted them after they had met specific conditions. As Hancock has argued regarding this scripture, “it would have made no sense for the Nephites to welcome the Anti-Nephi-Lehies as fellow citizens if the latter had not first joined the church and forsaken the ways of war.”

Countries face several moral obligations when it comes to immigration — not only to their own citizens but also to those sharing in a larger brotherhood. While statesmen must recognize the dignity and even dire situations of many immigrants, they must also balance these concerns with their supreme moral obligation to their own citizens. It is true, as the Church has reminded us, that compassion plays a role in immigration policy. We must remember, however, that compassion must be guided by wisdom and the prior contractual obligations to one’s own.

Libertarianism and Marriage

In a book devoted to instructing Latter-day Saints about the true political principles taught in the Gospel and these principles’ proper application, marriage is conspicuously absent. While it is always easy to criticize authors for that which they do not cover in their work, same-sex marriage’s permanent presence in Mormon politics makes it impossible to overlook in any treatment on Mormon approaches to public policy. Perhaps it could be argued that LDS have heard enough on this topic, and that a book would be better used to reason with them on issues where the tie between gospel teachings and political principles is less recognized. While Mormons have indeed been inundated on the marriage front, an overwhelming number still struggle to articulate their support in terms that don’t solely rely on prophetic revelation. It would seem then that a book relating natural law principles to this political elephant in the room is desperately needed.

Boyack writes that LDS must learn to properly apply the principles of liberty to the political issues of the day, but I wonder whether the libertarian principles he lays out allow the defense of state-sanctioned marriage. I do not doubt that Boyack’s understanding of liberty allows him to argue that gays do not have a constitutional right to marry, that marriage is an indispensable private institution, and even to defend Church leaders against LGBT activists’ attacks. Likewise, I do not doubt Boyack’s sincere willingness to follow God’s voice as given through His prophet. As valuable as these things are, however, they do not amount to a reasoned account of why the LDS Church might exert such large amounts of capital (financial, political, spiritual and human) to ensure government properly defines marriage as being between a man and a woman. Even more, it fails to consider that the reasons Church leaders give for political involvement might be discernible by reason and not only revelation.

If liberty is defined as the right to act as one pleases as long as these actions do not harm another person or their rights, why would society not allow two men or two women to marry? This is as far as many on the Left, and even many libertarians, take this question before jumping on the same-sex marriage equality train, but Boyack’s understanding of government allows him to take it one step further. If it’s true, as Boyack argues, that “the proper function of government is limited only to those spheres of activity within which the individual citizen has the right to act,” then what is government’s role in marriage? The problem is that Boyack’s theoretical premises have created a radical individual autonomy that fails to consider how rights function in a community. While libertarianism can protect the right of any two individuals to associate with each other, it cannot give a principled reason on why the government should be involved with marriage in the first place. Boyack’s philosophy can protect churches’ right to perform marriages, but it cannot reason why the LDS Church is interested in preserving the government’s role in upholding marriage. Rather, his philosophy leaves him wondering how a moral government could ever be involved in marriage and why the LDS Church leadership doesn’t forego the fight and simply let America’s churches handle the matter.

The answer to these questions, I believe, lies in the fact that the very idea of limited government depends on families and other private institutions forming moral and self-reliant people worthy of being entrusted with the maintenance of a free government. Most LDS are familiar with the Church’s teaching that the family is the “fundamental unit of society,” but I suspect many have not thought out the full ramifications of this statement. As I have argued at length elsewhere, “[if] the family is the most basic and fundamental unit of society, we cannot redefine its nature . . . and, at the same time, expect not to suffer a fundamental societal breakdown.  Where government and society have failed to create a strong marriage culture — take American inner cities for example — this has already happened. . . . With each change and its subsequent repercussions, we are left with nature’s stubborn reminders that we cannot remake the world to fit our will without facing the enduring tremors of the earth’s resettling.”

The marriage debate then is not about punishing homosexuality but holding up the goods of marriage and family — goods that free government desperately relies upon and without which it would cease to exist. Government does not and should not play a coercive role in marriage. It would be naive, however, to assume that the government’s subsidiary role in preserving traditional marriage was not indispensable in the creation of a marriage culture.

Readers owe Boyack their gratitude for encouraging them to think seriously about the proper application of principle to political policies. It should be noted, however, that even the best application of principle does little good (but much harm) if the principle is flawed from the beginning. What I show in theory in the first part of this review, we see now in practice. To be sure, libertarianism is a valued asset in the conservative movement. It speaks to the beauty of human liberty and warns of the dangers that government’s administrative encroachments may create. Even more, libertarianism reminds us of the first principle that governments exist to “secure the Blessings of Liberty” for its citizens. The problem, then, with libertarianism is not in its love of liberty but in its shallow understanding of liberty that tries to conceive of agency as being something separate from moral agency or responsibility. Yes, governments exist to secure the blessings of liberty, but securing such blessings means more than maximizing choices. Rather, it requires creating and preserving the conditions in which a moral and lasting liberty can flourish.

I write in response to a recent review of my book, Latter-day Liberty: A Gospel Approach to Government and Politics, written by Brandon Dabling of the JAC Editorial Board. I appreciate the opportunity to publish my comments here to further the discussion and point out several misrepresentations in that review.

Mr. Dabling alerted me to his published review in an email, noting that he had done his best to be fair. Reading his lengthy comments on the first half of the book, however, I must conclude that he missed the mark. Perhaps the easiest way to explain such a conclusion is to observe the pervasive theme of the first half of the book, and note its complete absence in Dabling’s review.

Throughout most of the chapters in the first half, and supplemented with scripture and quotes from church leaders, philosophers, and historical figures, I advance an argument as to government’s legitimacy. That argument was perhaps best defined by Ezra Taft Benson, who I quote in the book as follows: “the proper function of government is limited only to those spheres of activity within which the individual citizen has the right to act.”

Government is merely an institution of individuals who collectively delegate to that body certain powers it wishes. It cannot legitimately exercise any authority that is not innately held by the individuals who comprise it. In all questions of government power over the lives of individuals, this basic question must be asked: “whence does the government derive this authority?” And yet this basic question, addressed and discussed repeatedly throughout the first half of the book, is notably left out of what is claimed to be a fair review. I find that interesting.

It seems, rather, that Dabling chose to focus on specific things with which he disagreed, rather than attempt a “fair” review of the content itself. As such, my response will of necessity follow the same pattern, responding to and refuting some of the criticisms offered.

First, I should note that Dabling employs a term for which I offer a whole chapter of context: libertarian. He correctly notes that I advocate that the LDS faith aligns itself well with “libertarianism” and that that political philosophy is the only one which finds any consistency and principle in defending liberty. Yet nowhere does he reference the context and definition of that term which I offer. In the book, I explain that while many people have a preconceived notion of what a “libertarian” is and advocates, my use of the term throughout the book is narrowed and very specific. I use the term only to describe someone who supports the political philosophy of liberty. Understanding what “liberty” is (and thus what a “libertarian” advocates) requires dozens of pages of explanation in the book. Quite simply it is embodied in this quote by David O. McKay: “A man may act as his conscience dictates so long as he does not infringe upon the rights of others. That is the spirit of true democracy, and all government by the Priesthood should be actuated by that same high motive.”

Dabling claims at the outset that I find Republicans and Democrats to both be substandard advocates of liberty, but then in the following paragraph he opines that “Conservatives and libertarians both cherish individual liberty and are dedicated to its protection.” This is a misguided assumption I repeatedly refute in the book. For example, on page 112:

As conventional wisdom goes, modern-day liberals favor big government, regulation of business, redistribution of wealth, and a fundamental responsibility to help those in need. Modern-day conservatives favor limited government, free enterprise, private property, and a system of privatized, voluntary charity. Though these distinctions may superficially suggest a substantial difference between the two, they are in fact like step-children, sharing a common parent. In this case, that parent is interventionism—the utilization of government to force another person or group of people to act in a way that they want. Conservatives laud the so-called “war on terror” while liberals encourage the “war on poverty”; one group supports business licensure and the other agrees and tops it with further regulation. One supports government intervention in the bedroom, and the other wants it in the boardroom. Both may apply their advocacy of anti-liberty interventionism in different ways, but their roots betray their outward appearance; today’s conservatives and liberals in fact share much in common. It might be argued that the two-party system in America consists simply of two factions within the same interventionist party. Both Republicans and Democrats, conservatives and liberals support tariffs and taxes, regulation and licensing, foreign intervention, social restriction, and a slew of other policies and programs that show no regard for individual liberty.

 

Whether someone espouses a supposedly conservative, (modern) liberal, progressive, moderate, or centrist ideology (each of which can be consolidated into an anti-liberty, interventionist philosophy), the result is the same: principle gives way to power, and liberty to centralized micromanagement of our lives.

 

Dabling continues by alleging that I have my theology wrong on the War in Heaven. In doing so, he completely misrepresents my view and puts words into my book that are nowhere to be found. “Boyack paints the caricature that Satan’s plan was essentially to turn the hosts of heaven into mindless drones,” he writes, “who were forced to do what was right so that they might be saved.”

This is completely false. Nowhere do I claim that Satan wanted to compel righteousness or use coercion to enforce obedience. The entire next paragraph is dedicated to a correction of my supposed errant views; I agree entirely with Dabling’s unnecessary rebuttal. It is one I myself advance in the book in arguing, as he does, that Satan “sought to destroy agency by refusing to respect the natural tie linking choices and consequences.” I say it this way on page 18:

Despite the unworkable conditions proposed by Lucifer, he successfully gained a significant following by luring away many of his fellow spirit siblings with promises of guaranteed salvation regardless of what they would choose to do on earth. (Ironically, those who joined forces with Satan to destroy agency exercised their own agency in doing so.) Not one soul would be lost, the devil claimed, thus implying that he would nullify God’s commandments and remove any need for obedience to divine authority. In effect, he was proposing that everybody would be able to “eat, drink and be merry” (2 Nephi 28:7-8), then at the judgment bar receive an unconditional stamp of approval.

 

Or on page 23:

While we are free to choose, we are not free from the consequences of those choices. As Elder Marvin J. Ashton once taught: “Our freedom to choose our course of conduct does not provide personal freedom from the consequences of our performances. God’s love for us is constant and will not diminish, but he cannot rescue us from the painful results that are caused by wrong choices.” The eternal law of the harvest—”whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap” (D&C 6:33)—remains in effect, and reminds us that our choices will be followed by their corresponding consequences. “And [men] are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men,” taught Lehi, “or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil” (2 Nephi 2:27).

 

Or on page 28:

So successful were Gadianton and his band of followers, that by encouraging wickedness and offering others the opportunity to avoid any consequences and ignore all laws regarding their evil actions, they were able to achieve “peacefully” what they could not achieve by simply murdering the leaders of the government previous to that time.

 

This correct view on the War in Heaven is explained in great detail in the book Satan’s War on Free Agency by Greg Wright. I incorporate the material in my own book, include Wright’s book in my suggested reading list in the appendix, and received an endorsement from Wright. Had I actually claimed the “force” argument as Dabling somehow thinks I do, none of that would have happened. So begins a trend throughout the remainder of the review in claiming things that have no basis in fact.

Dabling’s thesis at the outset—that I have misinterpreted the War in Heaven and issue of agency—is further weakened when he claims that “a much different reading of the political principles at stake” in that war is obtained by understanding that “Satan’s ‘plan’ was never a plan in the sense that it would have been enacted had the votes lined up differently.” Again, I agree with this point (though he somehow seems to think I don’t) and wrote thusly on page 18:

Satan’s proposal to allegedly ensure the salvation of every single one of God’s children was a non-starter from the beginning—a plan that was never anything more than a fictional and cunning attempt to usurp God’s power. It was an illegitimate attempt to distort God’s plan, and one which would have destroyed man’s agency.

 

The review continues with several contentions that the definition of liberty I offer is “void of any moral meaning.” I do not “use the word the way the American Founders did,” according to Dabling. To those men, he writes, liberty was “the balancing of rights and responsibilities.”

Of course, nowhere do I claim that responsibilities should not be fulfilled, nor morality promoted. As a self-reliant and faithful Mormon, I of course believe quite the opposite. But Dabling still fails to understand the point of my book, as it relates to the theme he excluded from his “fair” review. My intent is to question the legitimacy of government power, and understand under what circumstances it has any moral basis. This specific discussion requires no mention of responsibilities, for just because an individual is irresponsible or immoral, it does not therefore follow that the government may be empowered to be his caretaker. Incidentally, the subject of personal responsibility as it relates to individual liberty is the subject of my second book. If Dabling is critical of my exclusion of that topic from this book, he’ll just have to be patient!

More misguided criticism is directed towards my discussion of the proper and moral use of force in the book. Dabling writes: “It is absurd, therefore, to judge the merits of governments or their laws by whether they are backed by force. The better measuring stick is whether it protects man’s liberties, is based on the consent of the governed, and contributes to the public good.” I completely disagree. Again, as I exhaustively note in the book, the only proper measuring stick for government is whether its asserted power has any moral legitimacy—if the individuals who supposedly delegated that power themselves possess it. Judging a law by its effectiveness, popular support, or intended consequences may feel good to those who agree with the policy, but that near-sighted approval of authority fails to address whether the authority is itself legitimate at all.

Dabling attempts to dismiss my review of nullification (though noting that I do my readers “a service in bringing to light excerpts from early Church leaders”) by saying that it “risks violating the 12th article of faith.” I once again disagree; I spend several pages explaining how many people misunderstand this article of faith and read into it, as Dabling has, something that does not exist. In short, obedience is only an obligation to political leaders as they themselves obey, honor, and sustain the law. To the extent that they violate that trust and mandate things for which they have no authority, then, as Joseph F. Smith said: “…where is the law human or divine, which binds me, as an individual, to outwardly and openly proclaim my acceptance of their acts?”

Predictably, Dabling further attempts to discredit the political doctrine of nullification by suggesting that “one would have to accept that blacks in the 1960s had no basis for equal protection under the Constitution, or natural law.” But almost all proponents of nullification argue no such thing, but rather its opposite. Contrary to erroneous high school history textbooks, it was northern states who used nullification more often than the southern states, especially to oppose the fugitive slave laws. And while it was poorly used in some cases half a century ago, one need not cast it aside entirely because in some cases its application is unfortunate. To myopically conclude that nullifcation’s result has only been negative, as Dabling implies, is extremely myopic. Dr. Tom Woods’ book Nullification buries that assertion with overwhelming evidence of its praiseworthy use.

This business of nullifying laws, whether as a state or individual, is certainly no trivial issue. Dabling expresses concern that I am guiding the reader down troubled paths: “I fear,” he writes, “that Boyack oversimplifies the complexity of judgment of whether Saints should be in the business of violating the laws of the land.” And yet I write on page 91: “Obviously, those who refuse to comply with unconstitutional or unjust governmental decrees will find themselves—like anybody exercising their agency—having to deal with the consequences of that choice. The gravity of such disobedience led Jefferson to note in the Declaration of Independence that ‘light and transient causes’ should not fuel revolutionary tendencies.” I also explain elsewhere in the book that this is a weighty matter and thus imply the very “complexity of judgement” Dabling somehow feels I simplify too much.

That charge of oversimplification is one which might instead be turned towards Dabling’s review. For example, he quotes James E. Faust (as I do, in the book) to argue that we should not disobey unconstitutional laws, but seek their repeal or modification through established means. Yet he fails to list the numerous scriptures and other quotes from church leaders I include which suggest, if not explicitly state, the opposite. In fact, five whole pages are dedicated to offering such examples. Oversimplification indeed. One would hope that a truly “fair” review would reference all sides of the issues being discussed, rather than touching on one while totally excluding the other.

As this response is already twice the length of what I had intended it to be, I’ll refrain from addressing other issues I have with Dabling’s review and conclude by reaffirming my appreciation for the commentary, though I clearly object with the misrepresentations made.

Liberty is indeed worth fighting for. While I believe that Dabling’s review does not correctly nor “fairly” describe my understanding and explanation of the term, I hope that at a minimum it will generate further interest in the subject and lead people to read for themselves what I have to say, and more importantly, what the scriptures and leaders of the church have to say.

Connor Boyack is director of the Utah Tenth Amendment Center and author of Latter-day Liberty: A Gospel Approach to Government and Politics.

Dabling’s Response to Boyack:

I’d like to thank Connor Boyack for taking the time to respond to my review. It’s certainly not an easy thing to write a book and then defend it to the world as others criticize and try to poke holes in its arguments. As I mentioned at the beginning of my article, I never intended to give a full review or critique of his book, but to address three areas I viewed as major problems. Had I charted out every point Boyack made, there certainly would have been many things I would have praised.

The risk in this response now is to launch a game of “You said I said this when I really didn’t” and “Well, you actually did say that.” I’m not interested in that, and for that reason I will not address every one of Boyack’s grievances. I do, however, think that some response is merited.

I do stand by my criticisms of Boyack’s book with the exception of the fact that I did overlook a passage that indicates he at least partially agrees with me on the war in heaven. I apologize for this. I do think, however, there are good reasons I came away with the reading I did.

Boyack begins his chapter on the war in heaven by quoting President Charles W. Nibley, saying that Satan’s plan was “government and salvation for all, to be secured by the spirit of force and compulsion, wherein all would be saved without agency, or what we call common consent.” (Boyack, 16) We can’t assume that authors agree with every quote they put in their work, but I’m puzzled about why Boyack led with this quote and then didn’t explicitly address and correct its ideas if his understanding of the war in heaven is that it was solely about the tie between choices and consequences and not coercion. Rather, the quote falls in line with other quotes advancing his argument. In describing “Lucifer’s attempt to destroy our agency,” Boyack says “[Satan] would have eliminated our stewardship and need for accountability, for as President David O. McKay taught: ‘If [Lucifer’s] plan had been accepted, human beings would have become mere puppets in the hands of a dictator,’” (22). Later, he again employs the language that Satan wanted to “impose a dictatorship and subject us to his will…” (29). The language of “dictator” and “dictatorship” speaks to the use of force and coercion — a person who speaks (dictates) and then enforces these edicts. The use of force is the dominant theme of Boyack’s war in heaven chapter, and this is why I connected this theme to the quotes and passage I’ve cited here. As Boyack does agree with me on this question about what Satan proposed during the war in heaven, it would seem to have been proper for him to expound upon the true issue at hand during that war instead of burying it in a chapter dedicated to the use of force as it relates to the destruction of agency and the war in heaven. But, if he agrees with me on this question, I see no reason to further belabor the point except to once again raise the question of what possible implications this reading (opposed to the force and coercion reading) might have on how LDS view and defend agency in politics.

Boyack still says that my review somehow missed the core of his book. He complains that the review doesn’t give the reference or context for his definition of libertarianism, and he then supplies a quote in which President David O. McKay defines liberty. The definition is the same as the one from my review, only I employ Boyack’s own words. Boyack, however, insists on President McKay’s formulation, seemingly because he said it.

Boyack takes issue with my critique that his liberty is “void of any moral meaning,” and then obfuscates the argument by insisting that he doesn’t argue against responsibility and indeed practices it in his own life. Virtue in the private sphere was never the primary issue at hand in my review. I begin my argument talking about the need for virtue in citizens’ private lives and then connect it to the need for virtue in politics because “unrestrained or unguided freedom cannot preserve liberty.” I then argue “We must remember, however, that it is the basic problem of government to maintain rule of law (order) without devolving into tyranny and maintain the maximum amount of freedom without crossing into license, which creates its own — perhaps more subtle — form of tyranny.”

My argument was that we as citizens must more carefully consider the implications virtue has on how we govern. I am sure many libertarians are virtuous and responsible people in their private lives. I’ve met many of them, and I’ve never said otherwise. My critique of libertarianism is that it acts “as if it did not have to bear the consequences of [license].” It argues for the legalization of license without considering how to then address the toll this will have on society. It refuses to play even a subsidiary role to create conditions of true liberty and happiness. It simply says that government shouldn’t coerce through law, but it doesn’t seriously think about what society would look like after barriers to such activities are removed. With regards to the public sphere, Boyack does disregard “the balancing of rights and responsibilities” and the promotion of morality, or virtue because this falls outside his proper role of government. The connection between virtue and politics was always the issue at hand, but Boyack, unfortunately, refuses to engage on this most central issue.

On the issue of nullification, Boyack insists I’ve misunderstood the 12th Article of Faith and failed to grasp the point behind “the several pages [of Latter-day Liberty] explaining how many people misunderstand this article and read into it, as Dabling has, something that does not exist.” If I’m wrong about the 12th Article of Faith, it’s not because I’ve read into it. If anything, my flaw would be that I don’t see the exceptions to the plain text. Even more, Boyack fails to engage my argument, but simply throws out another quote. We could get into a game of “I raise your Joseph F. Smith with this here James E. Faust,” but that doesn’t interest me, and I don’t think it helps us think about underlying principles. If Boyack wants to engage the argument instead of claiming the authority of something an apostle or church president once said — which doesn’t agree with what later ones have said —I’d be happy to join him. If he wants to respond to my criticism and discuss how his principle of nullification is substantively different from civil disobedience, I’d happily oblige.

I stand by my statement about the danger of teaching nullification as Boyack has. Teaching we have the duty to violate unconstitutional laws or those that violate natural law is irresponsible. Though Boyack points out that people not abiding by the positive law must bear the consequences, this by no means gets him off the hook. If someone tells people they have the moral responsibility to run in front of oncoming traffic but nevertheless informs them of the likely danger, does this obviate the moral responsibility of giving this teaching? Granted, this isn’t a perfect example, but it’s absurd to think that because Boyack warns people of the likely disastrous consequences of following his counsel that it is then prudent and morally responsible to give it.

To close, let me touch upon what I wish we could have talked about in this exchange. In my review I give a substantial critique about the blind spots of libertarianism and whether Boyack’s definition of liberty (which is then championed by libertarianism) is true liberty. I give my reasons for why such a definition of liberty is short-sighted and incapable of preserving liberty in the long-run. I talk about the connection between virtue and happiness and how government cannot remain neutral on these questions. I talk about the potential reasons why using nullification is imprudent and would bring serious consequences — consequences I believe various Church leaders had in sight when making various decisions about how to react in the public sphere. In short, I’ve given many reasons to support my arguments with what I see as the most serious issues at stake with Boyack’s book, and he hasn’t engaged me. Instead, he’s chosen to point out places where I’ve supposedly misquoted or misrepresented him, insist I have not understood his argument, and then continue to throw out quotes from Church leadership as if that settled the issue. Understandably, Boyack thought he needed to show where I misrepresent his work, but I would have greatly preferred that he seriously engage me on the issues.

If Mormons correctly understand their theology, Connor Boyack writes, they will “be proponents of the philosophy of liberty, or libertarians.” Boyack has given up on Republicans and Democrats as advocates of liberty and limited government, recognizing the former as big government proponents for central banking, deficit spending, economic and foreign intervention and the latter as only differing in the objects and uses for this bloated government. Only libertarianism, he argues, is consistent and principled in its defense of liberty as the highest political good.

In his debut book, Latter-day Liberty: A Gospel Approach to Government and Politics (Cedar Fort), Boyack dedicates the first half of his work to defining liberty and attempting a rational and theological foundation to make this liberty the end of Mormon politics. Let me first say that I agree with William F. Buckley’s sentiment that every conservative has a great deal of libertarianism in them. Conservatives and libertarians both cherish individual liberty and are dedicated to its protection. The very unique coalition that Buckley helped forge enlisted conservatives and libertarians in the same fight against advancing statism. That being said, libertarianism is crippled by blind spots that Boyack seems to fully embrace. I do not intend to here give a full critique of libertarianism or Latter-day Liberty. Instead, I’ve chosen to address what I see as the most fatal flaws in Boyack’s unique brand of Mormon libertarianism that is characterized by 1) a misreading of the war in heaven, 2) the related placement of a shallow sense of liberty as the highest political good, and 3) a radical fusion of theory and practice in relation to natural law that forces him to underestimate the goods at stake in the command given in the LDS Church’s 12th Article of Faith to sustain the laws of the land.

The War in Heaven

In a recent interview with JAC, Mormon scholar Terryl Givens said, in relation to the war in heaven, “If we’re going to make theology the basis of our political positions, we have to make sure we get our theology right.” As is the case at several junctures in Latter-day Liberty, Boyack’s reading into LDS principles distorts the potential applicable principle at hand. Boyack paints the caricature that Satan’s plan was essentially to turn the hosts of heaven into mindless drones who were forced to do what was right so that they might be saved. Christ, on the other hand, weighed in on the side of liberty. With this understanding, the war in heaven becomes a powerful lesson against coercion and force. We learn that the ultimate being of the cosmos, God Almighty, is pro-choice on the weightiest issue imaginable, the eternal salvation of His children. If God would rather lose a substantial portion of His children than force them to be good, surely our governments should allow even great amounts of license for the sake of liberty. So Boyack’s argument goes.

The main problem with this formulation is that it is a misreading from the beginning. Nowhere in scripture do we read that Satan planned to coerce or force God’s children into obedience. Scripture only states that he sought to “destroy the agency of man.” Surely, forcing individuals to do what is right is one way to destroy this agency, but, as Givens points out, this is a “rather brute and certainly not the most sophisticated or effective way to deny people their agency.” Willfully submitting to such extreme coercion is inimical to man’s nature, and libertarians, perhaps more than all others, should know that such a strategy is doubtful to have been appealing to a third of the host of heaven. The natural man, in his most debased form, rather is drawn by the doctrine of Nehor that “all mankind should be saved at the last day,” regardless of covenants or living up to any other standard of righteousness. The natural man wants to stay up all night drinking, partying and having sex and then wake up the next morning refreshed, free of hangover or any risk of child or STD. Eat, drink and be merry and nevertheless be saved in the kingdom of our God. In short, he wants to divorce choices from consequences. He wants to indulge his basest passions without ever having to face the consequences. He wants wickedness to be happiness.

Ironically then, Satan’s plan sought to deny man his agency by giving him exactly what he wanted: to choose a life of wickedness and nevertheless be happy in the kingdom of God. He sought to destroy agency by refusing to respect the natural tie linking choices and consequences. While it is impossible to know with certainty the exact plan of Satan’s destruction, this seems at once more enticing to man’s nature and more in line with the Satanic strategy deployed by the anti-Christs of the Book of Mormon. Couple this with the knowledge that Satan’s “plan” was never a plan in the sense that it would have been enacted had the votes lined up differently, and we reach a much different reading of the political principles at stake in the war in heaven. Instead of revealing a libertarian God, it reveals a God who respects man’s agency by refusing to divorce choices from their consequences. Where the former reading of the war in heaven might lend one to see unilateral divorce as the government’s respecting the choice of an unhappy spouse to back out of a marriage, the latter reading helps us realize that marriage is a most sacred contract that cannot be broken by one party except in the most serious circumstances such as infidelity or abuse.

Liberty as the Highest Political End

“If Mormons are to be supporters of the cause of liberty,” Boyack writes, “the argument then follows that they should be libertarian.” If it sounds like Boyack is drawing a hard line that’s because he is. According to him, conservatives and liberals have given up on liberty and are more interested in furthering their own power. While they might trot out the word “liberty” during campaigns, at the end of the day, they are all its enemies, even if they attack from different angles.

Boyack bombards the reader with a litany of quotes from philosophers and church leadership to show that liberty is the chief political good. While conservatives might be inclined to agree with Boyack on this point, it soon becomes apparent that he does not use the word the way the American Founders did. For the Founders, as Matthew Spalding writes, liberty was “the rightful exercise of freedom, the balancing of rights and responsibilities.”

The Founders did not use the words “liberty” and “freedom” synonymously. While all animals can be considered to have freedom, true liberty is reserved for human beings who are able to deliberate upon and act in accordance with moral truths and responsibilities. In other words, they are able to act with relation to higher ends. Boyack, on the other hand, renders the far less rich definition that liberty is simply “unobstructed action according to our will within limits drawn around us by the equal rights of others.” Liberty, then, is the right to act as one chooses as long as one does not harm others or their rights. Liberty is defined in purely negative terms and is void of any moral meaning. For LDS who have recently been reminded by its leaders that “free agency” properly understood is scripturally “moral agency,” this is surely problematic.

But, perhaps this is already too abstract. The shortcomings of Boyack’s approach are obvious from the commonsensical wisdom that future freedom is dependent on the merit of previous decisions. Consider the familiar story from the LDS Church’s Gospel Principles manual in which a couple is walking along the beach and sees a sign that says “Danger—whirlpool. No swimming allowed here.” At that point the couple could make many choices.

We might think [the sign’s prohibition] is a restriction. But is it? We still have many choices. We are free to swim somewhere else. We are free to walk along the beach and pick up seashells. We are free to watch the sunset. We are free to go home. We are also free to ignore the sign and swim in the dangerous place. But once the whirlpool has us in its grasp and we are pulled under, we have very few choices. We can try to escape, or we can call for help, but we may drown.

As it is in the private sphere, so it is in the public. Aristotle wrote that unrestrained or unguided freedom cannot preserve liberty. Surely libertarians (but not only them) concerned with mounting debt can see how previous choices limit our future choices and even the choices of others. The question then is what government is to do about this truth. Is it to operate as if all choices were equal, acting as if it did not have to bear the consequences of license? This is a large question, and I do not pretend to offer a more finely tuned republican formula that better situates our regime between licentiousness and torpor than the one the Founders gave us. We must remember, however, that it is the basic problem of government to maintain rule of law (order) without devolving into tyranny and maintain the maximum amount of freedom without crossing into license, which creates its own — perhaps more subtle — form of tyranny. Having just escaped the grasp of despotism, the genius of the Founders is that they insisted not on the other extreme but on situating government at the proper mean between liberty, tyranny, torpor and license. They knew it was not enough to think of freedom in the short-term. Those who truly love liberty will likewise take actions that sustain and strengthen liberty, not merely exercise it.

Aristotle taught that it is impossible to separate the purpose of the individual life from the ends of the regime. In the most general terms, Aristotle wrote, individuals want to be happy. He was not speaking of the kind of thrift store happiness that is so often trumpeted today where everyone wishes not only to make their own choices but to also choose their consequences. It was a happiness that was directly related to how well individuals used their freedom. As individual happiness is irrevocably tied to an individual’s virtue, so we would be naive to think that the happiness or well-being of the political community was not also the end of politics.

This may seem like a departure from the Founding’s liberal roots, but I believe this reaction is largely due to a misreading of the Founders. In Federalist No. 14 James Madison writes that the American experiment is about obtaining “private rights and public happiness,” as if indicating that private rights were the key contributor to public happiness. Later, however, in Federalist No. 45, Madison argues that the public good, or public happiness, “is the supreme object to be pursued; and that no form of government whatever has any other value than as it may be fitted for the attainment of this object.” Madison made this argument as part of his larger point that it was the Constitution that established the government that would best facilitate and secure the conditions of (not provide) this happiness. How could it be otherwise, recognizing, as Madison would write, that good government is simply “the greatest of all reflections on human nature?”

Some contemporary Americans may be uncomfortable making happiness the highest end of politics rather than freedom. They fear that one version of happiness would be imposed upon them at the expense of their liberty and their happiness. This is a legitimate concern and one of which Madison and the Founders were also aware. But, isn’t it also a threat to liberty to pretend that license does not bear consequences that enslave and degrade man?  Again, I do not claim to have the perfect formula that calculates the precise meeting spot of free actions and virtue, but I know enough to be certain that it is unwise to pretend that their proper balance is not a requisite for a prospering political community. It would seem then to be the duty of every responsible citizen to use liberalism’s institutions to strengthen virtuous causes and, in turn, strengthen liberty and provide the conditions for man’s happiness. In short, it is the duty of far-sighted Americans to not only preach the gospel of liberty but to preach the gospel of liberty well understood, or, that is to say, a sustaining, nourishing and virtuous liberty that will foster instead of decay man’s freedoms.

In Boyack’s parade of quotes showing that liberty should be the highest end of LDS politics, he includes a quote in which Elder Charles Didier says “Our most important need as defenders of liberty is to know what true liberty is, to teach it, to profess it, and to testify of it.” Perhaps it is ironic that this quote is lifted from a talk that argues that LDS should fight against “pornography or obscenity in bookstores, on television or radio, or in places of entertainment” as well as against “those who would make more easily available to the young and inexperienced alcohol and its attendant evils, including drunken driving, highway fatalities, broken homes” and other “laws which violate the commandments of God.” Didier also includes this following quote from President N. Eldon Tanner: “People who argue that they have constitutional rights and want to use what they call their free agency to accomplish unrighteous ends abuse the idea of free agency and deprive others of their constitutional rights.”

Reading the entirety of the address, it becomes clear that Didier is not arguing for Boyack’s libertarian ideal. Rather, he is making the argument that such a short-sighted definition fails to “know what true liberty is.”

Natural Law and the Fusion of Theory and Practice

Boyack gives his reader a primer on natural law theory, pointing to sources such as Cicero, Locke and the Founders. “Natural law theory holds that there already exists a set of laws which we should both understand and obey, and which should serve as the basis of government. … Natural laws have an inherent supremacy clause to morally invalidate and delegitimize any conflicting man-made law.”

Fair enough. Boyack goes on to argue that “an advocate of natural law points either upward to God or inward to his own humanity for moral authority” while advocates for positive laws (laws by man) must back these by force. Perhaps it is too easy a point to call attention to the fact that natural law must also be reinforced by man-made laws and institutions even if their moral authority exists outside these constructs.  It is not clear, however, that Boyack has given this most basic point consideration. While these laws are found in nature, they are weak without government, and, yes, government’s force. Consider the government’s protection of property. Yes, it is an essential natural right, but at the end of the day it is protected at the barrel of the gun. It is absurd, therefore, to judge the merits of governments or their laws by whether they are backed by force. The better measuring stick is whether it protects man’s liberties, is based on the consent of the governed, and contributes to the public good.

Boyack’s more dangerous point, however, is that LDS should use the principle of nullification to resist laws that violate “the true, supreme, constitutional law of the land.” Boyack recognizes that such a teaching risks violating the 12th Article of Faith, which teaches “We believe in being subject to kings, presidents, rulers, and magistrates, in obeying, honoring, and sustaining the law.” Boyack insists, however, that nullification is different than civil disobedience because it does not preach the violation of the law but the sustaining of the higher law. Of course, Boyack is forced to make this distinction because the Brethren were unequivocal in their denunciation of civil disobedience. President James E. Faust taught, “Even when causes are meritorious, if civil disobedience were to be practiced by everyone with a cause our democracy would unravel and be destroyed. Civil disobedience is an abuse of political process in a democracy.”

To believe there is a substantive difference between the civil disobedience Faust was referring to with the Civil Rights Movement and the kind of nullification Boyack is preaching, one would have to accept that blacks in the 1960s had no basis for equal protection under the Constitution, or natural law.

While it is true that positive laws that violate natural and constitutional law lack moral authority, this does not mean we should, or that it is wise to, break these laws. Boyack does his readers a service in bringing to light excerpts from early Church leaders such as Joseph Smith, John Taylor and Wilford Woodruff suggesting that LDS are not bound by unconstitutional laws and even have the duty to resist them. I fear, however, that Boyack oversimplifies the complexity of the factors that go into the decision of whether Saints should be in the business of violating the laws of the land. Even more, he suggests that LDS have the duty to resist such laws, saying “To comply with [governments’] mandates on issues for which they have not been delegated authority is to justify those and yet additional abuses that will surely follow.”

Using the example of abortion, President Faust taught that “even though we disagreed with the law … we are still obliged to recognize the law of the land until it is changed. … Rather than resort to civil disobedience or violence, we are obliged to exercise our right to seek its repeal or change by peaceful and lawful means.” The abortion example should be illustrative for Mormons, who believe abortion is the taking of an innocent life (murder or something like unto it). If ever there were an issue that required the saints to nullify the law of the land, wouldn’t this be it? For those who believe that the embryo and fetus form just as an important part of the species homo sapien as anyone of its post-birth canal counterparts, abortion tears at the heart of the principles of the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States.

In 1937, President Heber J. Grant went to Nazi Germany and counseled the Saints to not cause trouble with the Nazis. Why would he do this in the face of such atrocities? We cannot be absolutely sure, but there appear to be many more considerations involved than whether natural law or constitutional principles are being violated. Such considerations very well may have included the implications of such disobedience on those violating the law and their families, long-term impact on the Church, effects on the political regime, etc. The list goes on, and we cannot always see why the Lord’s anointed give the counsel they do. But, perhaps this is why they are given. Where there are not hard and fast rules discernible by reason to let us know when we might break the laws of the land, I think it prudent to follow Elders James E. Talmage and Bruce R. McConkie in recognizing that while there are situations where we might be morally justified to do so, “there is no sure way of knowing the course we should pursue in each instance except by revelation.”

Like so many libertarians, Boyack is a valuable advocate for getting the most burdensome aspects of government off our backs. I have no doubts that he is sincere in his love of liberty, but I wonder whether his libertarianism has blinded him from a richer liberty that is often present in the very LDS sources he marshals for his cause. Boyack loves freedom, but his liberty risks being, at its core, an amoral one that is left without direction or purpose. Freedom, yes, but not the moral agency fought for in the war in heaven or one capable of facilitating man’s happiness. As much as conservatives and libertarians disdain government largesse, they must not run to the opposite extreme but recognize the indispensable role limited government plays in creating the conditions of happiness. Liberty’s perpetuation and flourishing will always be contingent upon a public sphere that does not ridicule virtue but instead sustains institutions such as churches and families where individuals learn to use their agency toward their own happiness and that of the republic. Only with these things secure will we reap the blessings of true liberty.

Oh say, what is truth? ‘Tis the fairest gem

That the riches of worlds can produce,

And priceless the value of truth will be when

The proud monarch’s costliest diadem

Is counted but dross and refuse.

Yes, say, what is truth? ‘Tis the brightest prize

To which mortals or Gods can aspire;

Go search in the depths where it glittering lies

Or ascend in pursuit to the loftiest skies. ‘Tis an aim for the noblest desire.

The sceptre may fall from the despot’s grasp

When with winds of stern justice he copes,

But the pillar of truth will endure to the last,

And its firm-rooted bulwarks outstand the rude blast,

And the wreck of the fell tyrant’s hopes.

Then say, what is truth? ‘Tis the last and the first,

For the limits of time it steps o’er.

Though the heavens depart and the earth’s fountains burst,

Truth, the sum of existence, will weather the worst,

Eternal, unchanged, evermore.

—John Jaques

The John Adams Center addresses the intersection of “faith, philosophy and public affairs.” Increasingly the discussion of these matters is taking place on the internet. While much valuable information and serious argumentation appear online, we also see a profusion of questionable claims and weak reasoning that often go uncontested. The John Adams Center has resolved to do what it can to raise the level of discussion on blogs and other internet sites that deal with our issues, beginning with those sites of special interest to Latter-day Saints (Mormons). Though keenly aware of our own fallibility, we intend to stand as a “firm-rooted bulwark” of rigorous thinking open to revealed truths, providing an evaluative overview of relevant internet activity, recommending serious and sound contributions (“fairest gems”) and fairly but frankly calling attention to what seems to us defective (“dross and refuse”). Along the way we may amuse ourselves and others from time to time, deliberately or not. Below you will find a review of such internet discussion.

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Imaginary Theologies and the Sexual Difference

Taylor Petrey has displayed some genuine learning and dialectical finesse, and even more imagination — and stirred some interesting conversation at Times and Seasons as well as By Common Consent — with an article in Dialogue under the refreshingly straightforward title “Toward a Post-Heterosexual Mormon Theology.” It seems clear where Prof. Petrey wants to go. Although he gives lip service to impartiality and conformity to authority by claiming not to be advocating any position, the reader who gathers the opposite from the title will not be mistaken. As he explains a little more candidly at BCC, he hopes to overcome any resistance LDS feminists might have to “gay and lesbian” voices, thus, I suppose, facilitating a united front on the LDS far left, such as it is.

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Petrey rightly argues that our understanding of the meaning and purpose of commandments must be grounded in an understanding of our ultimate and highest good or exaltation, and that this, in turn, must be grounded, in some way, in the practical goods we actually experience and enact in the present life. But he takes it as a fait accompli that the old-fashioned norm — you know, the man-woman thing — has lost its hold on our imagination and that smart and learned people can now perform a great service to less imaginative saints by loosening up the normative categories in order to prepare for some new way of aligning or coordinating our ideals and doctrines with our lived experiences.

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Along the way Prof. Petrey certainly raises some fair and interesting questions about the precise meaning of sexuality in eternity. Any LDS ready to consider such questions for a moment will be willing to admit that there is much that we don’t know — that mystery finally surrounds (as it must) the projection of our practical experience of meaning in this life upon an eternal and infinite existence (or vice versa, if I may say).

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