Faith and a critical mind

A friend sent me this message last week: 

So it's been a tough year for me as I try to reconcile my understanding of doctrine with what I learn about historical challenges within the church AND present day challenges casting doubt upon the church (including the most recent handbook changes).

My questions for you aren't really about specific issues with church leadership but rather how you manage thinking like a scientist AND maintaining a faithful perspective. . . how do you work in science, searching for truth objectively, AND maintain your faith when confronted with "anti-Mormon" information?

I've been asked versions of this question many times by fellow Mormons, people of other faiths, and people of no faith. Actually, just a few minutes ago a friend and colleague that I often discuss metaphysical matters with sent me an email with the following closing paragraph:

I just can't understand how an otherwise intelligent scientist like you can believe in such obviously fake and counterfactual stories in the face of reason and evidence pointing overwhelmingly to their fabrication by fraudster-psychopaths looking to dupe fools into giving them money, power, status and sex.

Both of these questions are about Mormonism specifically, but I think they would apply just as well to any religion or belief-system that goes beyond what we can know from the natural and philosophical sciences. I'll try to answer the questions generally (how can faith and critical thinking coexist) and specifically (why do I believe in Mormon doctrine faced with so much anti-mormon information).

First a little bit about me (because who doesn't love hearing about me). I love Mormon theology and consider myself fully Mormon. This is different than being an active member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, though I happen to be one of those as well (I was a translator just last week for Stake Conference in Nantes and totally butchered the callings and releases). I find Mormon theology transcendent and beautiful and I have had many spiritual experiences that I believe are encounters with God (see my post on coincidence for some specifics).

I love science and consider myself fully scientific. This is different than actually being a scientist, though I happen to be one of those as well. I am an ecosystem ecologist at the Centre national de la recherche scientifique in Rennes France. I love science because it solves problems and it reminds us to be curious, grateful, and careful. Science helped us figure out how to open our food barrel when we got dropped off in the Noatak without a wrench.

Lisle, Flinn, and Balser using science to open a bear-barrel containing 10-days of food. What they didn't know was that there was no coffee inside because they assigned a Mormon to do the shopping (talk about conflict between science and religion!).

When I was in high school my dad introduced me to the books of Stephen Jay Gould, a paleontologist and historian of science. Gould's solution to the problem of science and religion was to grant each its own sphere of knowledge that he called nonoverlapping magisteria:

The lack of conflict between science and religion arises from a lack of overlap between their respective domains of professional expertise—science in the empirical constitution of the universe, and religion in the search for proper ethical values and the spiritual meaning of our lives. The attainment of wisdom in a full life requires extensive attention to both domains—for a great book tells us that the truth can make us free and that we will live in optimal harmony with our fellows when we learn to do justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.

These boundaries work great for some issues and some faith traditions, but Mormonism flagrantly transgresses these limits with its claims of a physical God presiding over a natural universe, angelic visitations, and miraculous translations of actual text written on gold and papyrus. Furthermore, we are explicitly commanded to seek all truth, with no regard to magisterium. Just one of many such exhortations is in the 88th section of the Doctrine and Covenants:

And I give unto you a commandment that you shall teach one another the doctrine of the kingdom. Teach ye diligently and my grace shall attend you, that you may be instructed more perfectly in theory, in principle, in doctrine, in the law of the gospel, in all things that pertain unto the kingdom of God, that are expedient for you to understand; Of things both in heaven and in the earth, and under the earth; things which have been, things which are, things which must shortly come to pass; things which are at home, things which are abroad; the wars and the perplexities of the nations, and the judgments which are on the land; and a knowledge also of countries and of kingdoms. . . And as all have not faith, seek ye diligently and teach one another words of wisdom; yea, seek ye out of the best books words of wisdom; seek learning, even by study and also by faith.

In this view, "the kingdom" claims all spiritual and secular subjects, overlaying rather than separating the various realms of knowledge. These, and many other Mormon beliefs collapse the distance between Gould's realms of facts and values, making for interesting dinner conversation and inviting factual investigation of Mormon claims. Gould himself acknowledges that there can be conflict:

This resolution might remain all neat and clean if the nonoverlapping magisteria of science and religion were separated by an extensive no man's land. But, in fact, the two magisteria bump right up against each other, interdigitating in wondrously complex ways along their joint border. Many of our deepest questions call upon aspects of both for different parts of a full answer—and the sorting of legitimate domains can become quite complex and difficult.

So then, how do I balance my training (and faith) in the scientific method with all of its replication, control, and formality with the messy and marvelous world of feelings and spirituality? The short answer is that I'm skeptical of everything and comfortable with uncertainty.

What strikes me about my friends' question is the assumption that real questioning, the kind where you might change your mind, is incompatible with maintaining faith—that to believe you sometimes have to disregard the evidence. I would not believe in Mormonism, God, or a spiritual world at all if I had to compromise or give up my critical thinking to do so. I do not "maintain" faith at the expense of questioning nor do I think that doing so leads to meaningful encounters with the divine. I try to use the same intellectual rigor and critical thinking to evaluate my spiritual conclusions as I do my scientific ones. I think we should regularly challenge our spiritual and scientific beliefs by asking:

1. Am I making this up?
2. Am I seeing what I want to see rather than what is there?
3. What alternative explanations could account for what I think I experienced?
4. What pressures or prejudices are influencing my interpretation?
5. Is the strength of my conclusions proportional to the strength of the evidence or am I overstating my case?
6. Am I making this up?

I believe that Mormon scripture uniquely encourages a critical and open-minded approach to faith, though I recognize that in practice, some Mormons are in family or community environments where they do not feel free to truly question. There are two passages in the Book of Mormon that come to mind on the interaction between believing and questioning: Alma 32 and Moroni 10. Alma says "awake and arouse your faculties, even to an experiment upon my words, and exercise a particle of faith." He goes on to say that doctrines or teachings are like seeds and the best way to know if one is true is to give it an honest try and see what it grows into. Sure, you have to exercise enough trust or faith to start the experiment, but deep conviction or belief (what he calls knowledge) comes from careful observation and analysis of the experimental results. As written, these directions are very compatible with a scientific viewpoint, though in practice, if you have been told that only lazy or sinful people don't get the "right" answer, you certainly could come to the conclusion that belief is contradictory to reason. That brings me to the second passage, maybe the most famous in all Mormon scripture.

In the last chapter of the Book of Mormon, Moroni invites all those who read the book to ask God if it is true. He promises that God will manifest the truth of the book to those who ask sincerely. Specifically, he says that "real intent" is prerequisite to receiving this divine response. Ask any Mormon missionary and they will tell you that having real intent means that you intend to act on the response should it come. If we believe that real intent is necessary for revelation, we should ask hard questions about our church's history and present and be willing to change our beliefs based on the answers we get. I believe that much of the cognitive dissonance and intolerance in the church is due to people feeling that they have to set aside their spiritual convictions on an issue (gay marriage, Heavenly Mother, polygamy, etc.) because they do not feel they are compatible with what they are supposed to believe. I think this practice is morally objectionable and detrimental to progress of the individual and group. We should only accept the church's teachings or policies inasmuch as we receive a personal witness that they are true after critically evaluating them.

Green Canyon in Logan where I first really felt God and the Itkillik River on the North Slope where I first really glimpsed science.

So if scripture gives us permission to ask, why do so many Mormons or members of other groups (including non-religious groups) hesitate before truly questioning their beliefs and assumptions? Part of this is probably just group dynamics, but part of the fear to dissent comes from statements like the following, given by Wilford Woodruff at General Conference in 1890:

The Lord will never permit me or any other man who stands as President of this Church to lead you astray. It is not in the programme. It is not in the mind of God. If I were to attempt that, the Lord would remove me out of my place, and so He will any other man who attempts to lead the children of men astray from the oracles of God and from their duty

Though this statement is often quoted during General Conference, I do not believe it is true or in accordance with ancient or modern scripture. Contrast President Woodruff's declaration of prophetic infallibility with the Lord's description of His relationship with the prophets and apostles in the first section of the Doctrine and Covenants:

Behold, I am God and have spoken it; these commandments are of me, and were given unto my servants in their weakness, after the manner of their language, that they might come to understanding. And inasmuch as they erred it might be made known; And inasmuch as they sought wisdom they might be instructed; And inasmuch as they sinned they might be chastened, that they might repent; And inasmuch as they were humble they might be made strong, and blessed from on high, and receive knowledge from time to time.

These two paradigms are universes apart. In the first, the prophets cannot make mistakes and are constantly controlled by God. In the second, they are weak and fallible, receiving guidance like the rest of us: from time to time and depending on their sincerity. If we subscribe to the first paradigm, accounts of mistakes in church history and experiences with current mismanagement threaten the basis of our testimony. However, if we accept that our leaders are, as the Lord says, the "weak things of the world," and that the doctrines and policies of the church are a work in progress, we can acknowledge and learn from mistakes.

I think that the historical context of President Woodruff's statement gives some insight into why the church has largely favored the narrative of prophetic perfection in post-polygamy Mormonism. President Woodruff gave the speech in question soon after announcing that the church would no longer practice plural marriage. He wanted to reassure church members that his decision to end polygamy was the will of the Lord and not a political concession. Some of the people that questioned the words of the prophet broke away from the body of the church and founded the fundamentalist groups that still practice polygamy today. The church was traumatized by that schism and perhaps has focused more on conformity and unity since then in an effort to avoid future splits. Ironically, I believe that this belief that prophets can't make mistakes and that the church should never apologize, weakens the body of the church and drives some people away.

Mormonism was founded on revolutionary and expansive principles including a virtual elimination of hell, a universal right to revelation, the sanctification of spiritual and carnal pleasure, and co-eternality with God. The restoration of the gospel started because a teenager was willing to ask with real intent if what he was being taught was true. I believe that we should skeptically investigate all propositions from all sources. I don't think the Lord ever wants us to check our critical thinking at the door and just accept what someone tells us, even if they are a prophet, seer, and revelator. This is a teaching of the restoration that some of us have forgotten (we learn in Section 129 that even if an angel shows up we have to check if they know the secret handshake before we can trust what they say!).

I believe in God because each time I ask if He exists I feel like I receive a response. I believe in Mormonism because when I read the scriptures in my secret places between trees and stone I feel the power of God in them and when I experiment on the words of church leaders I feel a renewed desire to do good. I am under no delusions that these beliefs are fully scientific but I find them in no way incompatible with my scientific training. They are reasoned, subjective interpretations of the evidence I have experienced in my life.

For a longer and more involved discussion of how thoughtful reason and faith can coexist and a treatment of specific issues in church history, check out John Dehlin's five-hour interview with Terryl Givens.

Ingrid and Henry

I remember when I was six. It was hot upstairs. You could feel the Utah sun through the wooden roof. Nate and I would play Legos and I would sing until my voice got sore. I remember when I was eight. It was so cold and I was wearing a T-shirt. I huddled over the vent with Sam, trapping the heat with a blanket. I remember when I was 14. It was Christmas Eve and Sam and Tim and I were pretending that nothing existed outside our fan fort. Encyclopedia Britannicas held down the bedsheet, marking the edge of our universe. The sound of our voice through the box fan, the sound of the smooth electric motor created a chrysalis that we were outgrowing. But we had a whole night to sleep and as long as the brown books didn’t let the sheet slip we couldn’t feel the wind that was holding our world up.

 It is a special treasure to have a best friend in your family. I know no greater happiness than to see my children love each other. Since we have been here in France they have become each other’s best friends. Maybe it would have happened without the language barrier slimming down the pool of potential playmates, but I think it helped them appreciate each other. They welcome Caspian into their circle and even though he is a baby, I think he knows he has a place in their fan fort. I’m grateful they have become so close. Here are some pictures of them and a few of their mutual creations from the last couple months. 

Five years looking for learning

After my dissertation defense last August, my adviser Jay asked me to write down some reflections on being a graduate student. I am never one to pass up an invitation to pontificate (even if it is eight months late) so here goes. As implied by the title, I took five (and a-half) years to complete my PhD. True that was one year more than necessary, yes in Europe they do it in three, and I know that Jay did it in four (Tamara probably did too but I couldn't find her CV anywhere). I was not the ideal graduate student for this and many other reasons. However, I had a fabulous graduate experience. The counsel below is based on both successes and failures (both my own and others') but I'll let you guess which is which. Since this post is pretty dry, I've added some photos we took today in and around Saint Vitus cathedral in Prague. I don't see any direct connection with the text but maybe you'll find something.

Be thankful (and say thank you). Pursuing an advanced degree is a huge privilege. Feeling and expressing gratitude gives you perspective and peace. It will also make you easier to get along with. Feeling entitled makes you feel resentful and makes others resent you. Better to be grateful.

Take responsibility for your education. It is liberating (and scary) to realize that the content and quality of your experience depends above all on you. Sure, your advisor, program, university, and project play a role too, but I believe these are secondary factors. At the end of your five and a-half years (however long that is for you) you will be the one walking away with a degree. Decide what you want to learn and structure your work to acquire that knowledge and skills.

Figure out what your question is and why it matters. Science requires a painful amount of time and energy. Before putting yourself through that, make sure you have a meaningful hypothesis and that your experiment will actually test that hypothesis. Your work will probably not resolve the issue or question completely, but as a wise PhD advisor once said, "A weak test of a strong hypothesis is always better than a strong test of a weak hypothesis." To identify a meaningful question or problem you need to know the state of the science. Read the papers that are cited in the research proposal that funds your work and then read more. If you are like me, reading is difficult until you need it, and then reading is fun. Realize you need to read early so that it is fun.

Interpret criticism constructively. It’s easy to feel defensive and attacked when your work is criticized. You spent a lot of time thinking through your ideas and writing them down and it’s not comfortable to have someone pick them apart in a way that will likely require rethinking, reworking, and rewriting. Whether or not the criticism was intended constructively or given graciously, you can learn from it and it can improve your work. Along these lines, you will probably get more input from your adviser than anyone else during your graduate career (if this isn’t the case don’t complain). If you don't have the right perspective, all that correction can leave you feeling like your advisor is not your friend or not on your side. “If only she wouldn’t get in my way I would be done by now.” “He keeps on changing his mind!” In the vast majority of cases your advisor is your friend, even if you (or they) don't think they are. In the rare case that they are not your friend you can get a lot of mileage out of pretending they are.

Having a hard time getting along with your adviser? Does she or he sometimes really bother you? Guess what? Unless your adviser is Terry Chapin (who, as far as I can tell, loves everyone), there is probably something about you that bothers them too. It is easier to be patient and tolerant with your advisor when you remember that you surely will need their patience and tolerance.

Be a good citizen. Don't think exclusively about what you can get from this experience. Look around for opportunities to serve and help others. When the department head needs volunteers, volunteer. If your advisor is preparing for a site visit, offer to help. You shouldn't just give service to get something back, but it is undeniable that being a good citizen and saying yes when others ask for help or participation opens doors and smooths the path.

This point may not make me popular with the graduate student association, but I'm going to side with Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn on this one. Graduate school is a time “to defend not so much human rights as human obligations." Worry about fulfilling your responsibilities before getting caught up in asserting your rights. You can feel indignant about how you work 60 hours but only get paid for 20, or you can put those 60 hours to full effect and get a heck of a lot more than just salary for your effort. All people should be treated with respect and I am not saying to keep quiet if there is a real problem or abuse. I am, however, saying that being adversarial about real or perceived injustice rarely leads to a good place. If, after you have fulfilled your responsibility, there is still a problem, try to resolve it by talking individually with your advisor, committee, or appropriate administrator.

            You don’t really understand something until you have written it down. This is as true for a list of field supplies as it is for a hypo-deductive framework. Start writing as soon as you have an idea, not after you have all your data. Write the introduction to your papers before you do the experiment. Write when you read. Write every day. Writing a lot will help you order your thinking and be more comfortable with changing or cutting sections of text. It can be fun (I promise).

            Rethink your results. After you have discovered a significant relationship and have a nice story to explain it, stay skeptical and keep thinking. Alternative interpretations of your data should be welcomed, not suppressed. Could the relationship be an experimental artifact (Ioannidis 2005) or might you have reversed cause and effect (Gould and Lewontin 1994)? Think and write broadly when discussing your findings and invite others to give their opinions.

            Enjoy looking for learning. Like the Enterprise, good science goes where no-one has gone before. That usually involves lots of dead-ends, breakdowns, and Ctrl+Alt+Del. These hang-ups can distract you from the amazing experience of generating new understanding. You are seeing things in a way that no-one has before. The long walks down dead-ends contribute to your growth and increases your ability to effectively implement the scientific method. Start out early so you can enjoy getting lost and fully benefit from all the breakdowns. When you remember to breathe, this is a pretty rad job.

References

Gould, S. J., and R. C. Lewontin. 1994. The spandrels of San Marco and the Panglossian paradigm: A critique of the adaptationist programme. Conceptual issues in evolutionary biology.

Ioannidis, J. P. A. 2005. Why Most Published Research Findings Are False. PLoS Med.

Seven years and 21 days

Today marks the seventh anniversary of 21 days after Rachel and I were married.

We met at Utah State in 2003 when I was 17. During my Mormon mission from 2004 to 2006 we wrote a letter to each other every week. For the first year it was generic boyfriend-girlfriend stuff but during the second year we started to get specific about our plans to build a life together. I remember one exchange in particular.

"Do you think that we will ever say an unkind thing to each other"?

"I don't want to be unrealistic, but we love each other so much I just can't imagine that happening."

At that point of my life the longest relationship I'd been in was the nine months I spent with my mission companion Elder Palmer (love you Brandon). The depth of my understanding of intimate relationships was less than or equal to this children's song:  "The Family". After my mission we (Rachel and I) dated for a few months and then I broke off our relationship due to what I saw as irreconcilable differences.

Eight months later, after a miraculous crossing of paths in the high desert of San-Pete county, I realised that I wanted to be with Rachel. I spent the next three months at the Toolik Field Station sending emails and making phone calls trying to convince her to take me back. When Rachel finally caved, my boss Cody worked things out for her to come up for a couple weeks at the end of the season.

Matchmaker Cody giving me some advice before giving us his blessing: "Remember Ben, don't go anywhere without a spork and tampons."

We made plans right away to get married and did so on January 8th in the Manti temple in San-Pete.

I originally put together seven life lessons from seven years but when I tried to post it, a Blogger window popped up and said that marriage advice was now against Google's user agreement. Instead of seven answers, here are two observations.

Observation 1. Rachel and I are very different people. Yes we like different kinds of movies, but we also have divergent ideas on the meaning of life, treatment of strangers, raising children, and whether or not to close the toothpaste cap between uses. The irreconcilable differences that made us part ways before we got married have not grown smaller. Just months after our marriage I wrote this song about how the closer you get, the more aggravating personal differences can seem.

Our contrarieties were particularly troubling to me because I went into marriage expecting a complete union of interests, vision, and habits. I thought that we would become one--that from the moment we wed, I was responsible for Rachel's decisions and she was for mine. That perspective led to a lot of pressure and efforts to "improve" one another. After a few years we realised that the "you are me" paradigm was not rich in vitamin-happy. But by then our coercive attempts to model the other in our own image had left bruises that neither of us were ready to forget. So we spent (and still spend) our energy punishing one another for things we have done wrong or might think about doing.

Lately, a new idea has started to tingle at the back of my mind: Rachel and I are individuals. This is revolutionary to me because during both the "we are one" and the "I won't if you don't" phases, I was delegating my responsibility to Rachel or our relationship. Since Rachel is and forever will be out of my control (in wonderful and frustrating ways), feeling responsible for her choices brings tension and resentment. Learning how to consistently respect my spouse's individuality is a work in progress (I haven't mastered Rachel Woodward Hansen's secret for the best marriage ever let alone these 36 points by some random therapist) but at least I feel like I am working towards a sustainable model of married life.

Observation 2. I sometimes interview myself in my head (thanks David Byrne). Here is one interview that I recorded with my brain a few weeks ago.

"Hi Ben, thanks for coming on the program."
"Thanks for having me on Ben."
"If you knew then what you know now about your spouse and your relationship, would you think twice about getting married?"
"Probably."
"Now that you are married, are you glad you have stuck with it?"
"Absolutely."

I didn't used to feel comfortable admitting this. I thought it would be embarrassing for me and demeaning for Rachel. Love is like baptism, and doubt after commitment means you're on your way to apostasy or divorce. Right? I don't think so. The trials that make us question our choice of spouse are sometimes substantial and persistent. In my experience, however, it is easy to underestimate the value of shared experience and the richness of life together. Marriage is not just a cost-benefit analysis for me, it is also a question of responsibility, but it is nice to remember all the wonderful things that do come from staying.

My wise friend Lafe put it differently once on a bike ride (all the best lines in my interviews of myself are stolen). He said, "If I had known about several things before we got married they might have made a difference. But now they are just differences."

"Did we actually just get married"?

"Don't worry, love is an open door."

Seven years and 21 days after walking out of the temple together I am grateful for Rachel's staying. We are not perfect for each other (whatever that means). But in between (and maybe even during) not liking each other I love her. Here's an old song I wrote about that tension and a fancy cover by the handsome Tanner Lex Jones.