Line upon Line

For anyone growing up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there’s nothing all that secret or strange about the term “secret combinations.” Showing up 23 different times in the Book of Mormon text, the idea is hard to miss—and virtually impossible to construe as a secondary theme of the text.  

For instance, near the pinnacle of the mighty manuscript, the people united to put an end to “wicked, and secret, and abominable combinations, in the which there was so much wickedness, and so many murders committed.” And after recounting the formation of a secret combination among the ancient Jaredites many years prior, the prophet Moroni recounted how these ancient conspiracies (largely unbeknownst to most people at the time) had ultimately “caused” both this people’s destruction and the dissolution of his own people. He then added, “it hath been made known unto me that they are had among all people.” 

As a boy, I figured that secret combinations basically boiled down to the gang warfare I kept hearing about in the news—you know, the “bloods vs. crips” we saw news reports on throughout the ’90s, always standing out with distinctively red and blue headbands, like the Jets and Sharks in West Side Story. I grew up assuming that these kinds of gangs must have been what led to the downfall of the people in the early Americas.  

But is that all we really have to worry about? Moroni went on to warn future readers about not being naïve to the true threat:   

Whatsoever nation shall uphold such secret combinations, to get power and gain, until they shall spread over the nation, behold, they shall be destroyed; for the Lord will not suffer that the blood of his saints, which shall be shed by them, shall always cry unto him from the ground for vengeance upon them and yet he avenge them not. Wherefore, O ye Gentiles, it is wisdom in God that these things should be shown unto you, that thereby ye may repent of your sins, and suffer not that these murderous combinations shall get above you, which are built up to get power and gain—and the work, yea, even the work of destruction come upon you, yea, even the sword of the justice of the Eternal God shall fall upon you, to your overthrow and destruction if ye shall suffer these things to be. 

Despite all this, in our lofty day, any and all talk of secret arrangements is (perhaps predictably) mocked, disparaged, and labeled as a silly distraction at best, and dangerous “misinformation” at worst. In the political lexicon of our day, “conspiracist” takes its place next to “fanatic” and “extremist” as largely pejorative words that function to discredit anyone who happens to get so labeled—standing in for “crazy” or “crackpot” or “cuckoo” or “so ridiculous that it’s better to just ignore.” In particular, we’ve seen a relentless barrage of related journalism over the last two years—almost all of which paint any serious attention to possible behind-the-scenes agreements as categorically silly, and/or dangerous, with titles such as “The Coronavirus Conspiracy Boom,” “The Normalization of Conspiracy Culture” and “How America Lost Its Mind.” When not raising alarm about such talk as a great “danger” to society, these articles disparage and lampoon anyone loopy enough to entertain such possibilities.   

What’s going on here? Is the larger world right in its condemnation of any such speculation? Or should that blanket condemnation itself be of concern? Furthermore, are these really the signs of a larger conversation and culture committed to seeking truth, no matter the result or cost?  

Without question, it’s unhealthy for any of us to see malevolence in every corner or signs of suspicion in every official pronouncement. The sheer cost of this kind of pervasive paranoia for our emotional health—to say nothing of our spiritual strength and unity as followers of Christ—is real. Perhaps this is partly what motivated the prophet Isaiah’s own caution early in his text, “Do not call conspiracy everything these people regard as conspiracy. Do not fear what they fear; do not live in dread.” (Isaiah 8:12 NIV).

Such caution is good. And yet increasingly, people of many different faiths, Latter-day Saints included, are recognizing something a little off with the presumption that only popular consensus in line with official narratives is acceptable and defensible. There are signs of growing wariness with the new social norm wherein anything that seems too far off from that prevailing wisdom is immediately suspect as being yet another source of “misinformation” or “disinformation” (and worthy of censor or silencing). 

Even so, a surprising number of believers in the U.S. have continued to gladly go along with this—even to the point of lampooning and condemning fellow brothers and sisters harboring sincere concern about elements of what has taken place in our prevailing public health response.   

Is there a better way forward?  In early 2020, our staff at Public Square proposed a more collective effort and attention towards discerning true from false conspiracy—rather than categorically writing off any such talk as dangerous and silly (see “Discerning True from False Conspiracy”). As a way to encourage people to pull back from the extreme levels of fear, anger, and despair around us, I’d like to revisit that idea and elaborate what it could mean to spend more serious time and energy sorting out true from false conspiracy—coming together across other political or pandemic differences to work towards identifying what’s legitimately deserving of legitimate “secret-combination-level” concern, and what is not. 

Scripture speaks of the “discerning of spirits” as a spiritual gift bestowed on some by the Holy Spirit. Elder David Bednar has taught this gift can help us not only “detect hidden error and evil in others” and “ourselves,” but also help us “find and bring forth the good that may be concealed in others” and “ourselves.” How we need the latter benefits of this gift, even perhaps more than the former!  

Some unique challenges. This is definitely no easy task, for at least three reasons: First, activity by secret combinations is … well, mostly secret. By definition, its activities are not widely acknowledged or understood. As stated in the Book of Moses recently studied, “for, from the days of Cain, there was a secret combination, and their works were in the dark …” Insistence, then, that our inquiry or discussion be dictated only by openly “known facts” that are “widely accepted” or based in sources “generally acknowledged as credible” may be fatally flawed from the beginning. 

As a second unique barrier we must acknowledge, it can be extremely difficult for any of us to tell what’s happening when competing news outlets proffer fundamentally different portrayals of the “facts” at hand. A 2019 report found that between 1987 and 2017 news media saw, “a shift from a more academic, straightforward, event-based reporting to reporting based on personal perspective.” In addition to making it difficult to know whom to trust, instances of obvious agenda bias in the news seem effective in swinging some parts of our public discourse into opposite extremes.  

For instance, after being immersed in news media focus almost exclusively on guns in the wake of another school shooting (not family breakdown, not violent video games, not social isolation, not adverse effects of aggression among some SSRI antidepressant users), it’s understandable why some have been inclined towards over-the-top rhetoric that insists school shootings are “orchestrated” by shadowy actors trying to take away second amendment rights. Rather than having a thoughtful conversation about a whole array of workable factors pushing vulnerable youth towards tragic trajectories, our public discourse gets shaped by these stilted official talking points.  

And in a similar way, when objectionable opinions are deemed as “misinformation” and removed from public platforms, the censorship itself can take on a life of its own, feeding the popularity of the material, and becoming exhibit A for those pointing to widespread conspiracy in the matter. All this makes the kind of more careful inquiry we’re considering here more difficult—and represents a third barrier. I highlight here, especially, the censorious climate where so much effort goes into managing, controlling, and constraining certain perspectives to the point that the full truth (at least anything outside the boundaries of popular conclusions) becomes difficult to pursue. Within such a climate, anyone with dissenting views is necessarily forced onto a handful of public platforms; hence, the exodus to Spotify, Substack, and “free-speech alternatives” to Youtube (Rumble), and social media (Parler, Gab, Telegram, etc.).

Amidst such polarization, it becomes tempting for some to believe virtually “everything” heard by minority voices (“did you hear this latest podcast?! … it’s crazy!”)— while discounting anything else offered by more popular channels or elected leaders (“it was reported on CNN, so it must be false”). As Ross Douthat observed last year, “Joining an out-group that holds one specific outlandish opinion seems to encourage a sense that every out-group must be on to something, every outlandish opinion must be right.”

That kind of a rigid conclusion may be as dangerous as any tendency—and goes beyond the agile discernment we need to have as believers. I have more than one dear friend who is so consumed with the latest pandemic podcast or news report that little else seems to be able to captivate their heart or mind. It’s precisely this backdrop that makes President Russell Nelson’s caution so timely, “If most of the information you get comes from social or other media, your ability to hear the whisperings of the Spirit will be diminished.”

I believe that! I was among those who needed to hear this reminder and encouragement to “make time for the Lord.”  And I’ve been grateful to be able to make some changes— first thing in the morning, trying to start my day with more “alone time” with God and His words before everything else. Even after small steps in that direction, I’ve started feeling more settled, more peaceful, and clearer. This obviously doesn’t mean we should put our heads in the sand with other concerning things happening around us. On the contrary, I find myself better able after some sustained morning worship to engage the craziness around me from a place of growing strength, calm, and (hopefully) discernment too.    

With prayers that I might write from that same spirit, I summarize below ten questions you might prayerfully ask yourself as you evaluate for yourself the continuing ferment of conflicting information you are hearing – updating and expanding upon our previous analysis. 

I’m not the first to make such a proposal. As Ross Douthat of the New York Times argued last year, “a mind-altering technology like the internet probably does require a new kind of education, to help keep people from losing their senses in the online wilds or settling in as citizens of partisan dreamscapes.” Consequently, he added, “if you assume that people will always believe in conspiracies and that sometimes they should,” then perhaps we should “give them a tool kit for discriminating among different fringe ideas so that when they venture into outside-the-consensus territory, they become more reasonable and discerning in the ideas they follow and bring back.” (I’ll be quoting from Ross a lot since his writing has been so astute about this all). 

To summarize, once more:  Ask yourself, if not writing off all “conspiracy talk” categorically (which I’m gently hinting we can’t get away with as Latter-day Saints), how best can we discern true from false conspiracy? 

1. Are you inclined on some level to quickly or eagerly believe things said about people you don’t like, including allegations that (at other times, or attending to other evidence) you might otherwise see as unlikely to be true?      

Whenever any of us are frustrated with someone, it’s natural for us to gravitate towards especially unflattering and nasty things about them. (Think of a recent conflict with your spouse, friend, or coworker). This is evident in most divorces, and it’s especially evident in the ways liberals talk about conservatives—and vice versa.  

That much is clear. But the even more interesting question is this: To what degree is that same thing happening inside each of us as we navigate the crazy events in our world right now? Have we individually become too willing to embrace (too quickly) anything we hear that is especially unflattering or damning—whether or not it’s true—in part because we’re frustrated with a certain individual or group? (“Look at that, they’ve finally some found proof President Trump really was actively conspiring with the Russians!” … “Did you hear that President Biden is actually a child predator?!”)  

As Ross Douthat cautions, “If you’re reading someone who can’t seem to internalize the implications of having an argument proved wrong, or who constantly cites easily discredited examples, you’re not being discerning; you’ve either wandered into someone’s ideological fixation or you’re a mark for intentional fake news.”

Good food for thought.  

2. Are you embracing accusations that are too generalized and broad to realistically be true?  

Pay attention to how broad the scope of an accusation is. Are large swaths of people being accused of dastardly things? (They’re all lying. They’re all trying to keep us sick. Every one of them is trying to bring down American democracy or Christianity or economic prosperity …)

Although it’s painfully clear throughout history that large swaths of people can be led to do terrible things, voices that stir us up can be way too quick to indict whole groups and classes of people: “those liberals … those Republicans … those Trump supporters … those religious folks … those people who like guns … those gay activists.”   

Perhaps more than others, Christian believers are primedto see evil lurking around corners—and in the background (thanks to a theology that doesn’t allow us to agree that “there is no hell … and … there is … no devil”).  But—and here’s a crucial point—that doesn’t mean evil is lurking around every corner and motivating all that we don’t happen to like or agree with in the world. When all is said, and done, and “proclaimed from the housetops,” it will almost certainly leave us all surprised, as the full scope of what actually happened turns out to often be more complex (and sometimes maybe even simpler) than what any of us imagined, believer and nonbeliever alike.   

In the meantime, without closer attention to these kinds of nuances, wildly false and darkly speculative conspiracy theorizing can take over otherwise important conversations. In this way, thoughtful public discourse about important, although ambiguous and unclear phenomena can be sideswiped by especially dark or fearful rhetoric that discourages people from engaging, while generating knee-jerk rejection from others listening in. Thus, the awful truth about sex trafficking in America morphs into Tom Hanks, Barack Obama, and Hillary Clinton holding sex-slave children hostage underneath Central Park. Important questions about undue influence from pharmaceutical companies in American medicine and health care likewise evolve into dark rhetoric about the whole system being “designed” to keep people sick—with diagnostic labels created strategically, consciously, and primarily to sell drugs and virtually everyone (from doctors to pharma reps) in on the ploy. … yes, with Darth Vader at the top. Likewise, thoughtful deliberation about COVID-19 policy morphs competing insinuations that those hesitant about the vaccine are dangerous insurgents or that health officials are insidious “deep-state operatives and might not even be health experts.”

The larger point is that such rhetoric can generate distrust of anyone raising questions— even legitimate ones that dearly need our collective attention (and enough shared trust to keep engaging together). Ross Douthat’s next piece of counsel seems increasingly timely, “Just because you start to believe in one fringe theory, you don’t have to believe them all.” 

3. Are you assuming the worst—and taking for granted that people are trying to do harm? 

Be especially wary of messages that presume full intent and consciousness of harm— another characteristic of rhetoric designed to incite.Over and over, I used to hear that “Obama is trying to hurt America.”  To that, I would always say something like, “I go to school with many people who think a lot like President Obama—and I’ve never met any of them conspiring to overthrow the Republic. Even though I disagree deeply with many of them, they all sincerely seem to believe their policies are what’s best for the country.” 

Are people being accused of intentionally causing harm—vs perpetrating harm by naïve and “myopic” conclusions or via short-sighted decisions?

In a separate column, Ross Douthat highlights the tendency of people exploring potential conspiracies to posit “ideologically convenient villains and assume the absolute worst about their motives, and to imagine an omnicompetence among the corrupt and conniving that doesn’t actually exist”—while also frequently “trying to deflect blame for their own failings, by blaming a malign enemy within or an evil-genius rival for problems that their own blunders helped create.”

No matter the larger truth, in the end, let’s be honest: there’s something morbidly satisfying to many of us about believing that the other half of the country (the people who disagree with us) are really out to get us, and all that is good in the world (democracy, religion, family, etc.). Rather than acknowledging honest disagreement over policies, we’re convinced of this kind of mass malevolence in our political opposites, who are trying to hurt America (and lying through their teeth while they’re at it). As anyone who stumbles upon cable news this last decade knows well, these kinds of florid assertions have become bread and butter to pundits and leaders associated with both political parties in America today. 

However much true villains and awful motives clearly exist, this widening tendency to insinuate conscious malevolence occurs where a softer heart would see ignorance, lack of awareness, and honest disagreements everywhere you look. Do leaders in this nation lie too often? Unfortunately yes—and on both sides. Are they trying to bring down American democracy or small businesses—or actively, consciously working to destroy Christianity? 

That’s precisely the story that many people live with as reality—waking up to consume news that confirms it and lying down at night with more news that does the same. Without denying the possibility of some actually seeking to overthrow freedom, this is about recognizing the parallel possibility of people being dead wrong, even about really important questions, and advancing potentially dangerous beliefs without recognizing it. As a rule of thumb, Ross Douthat proposes, “In following your suspicions, never leap to a malignant conspiracy to explain something that can be explained by incompetence and self-protection first.” 

Rather than condemning and fighting those who disagree with us, this would encourage engagement—and attempts to teach and persuade. Think of it: how much less painful this would all be right now in America if we could give people the benefit of the doubt and trust that (most) everyone (apart from that subset of sad souls consciously causing harm) is doing the best they can. [That’s kind of the point of a secret combination—that a few are able to manipulate a less conscious larger collective, right?] 

Instead of walking around suspicious of everyone, this also invites compassion and encourages us to engage in persuasion, teaching, and ministering. In practice, this would be the difference between saying “Most people in the healthcare system actually want people to stay sick (to keep revenue flowing) and thus willfully ignore and lie to the public.” Versus, this instead: “To the degree revenue incentive and pharmaceutical monies have shaped our healthcare approaches, this remains largely outside the awareness of most medical professionals—who are virtually all doing their best to help relieve suffering and illness, based on what they know.”

See the difference?  The first question leads to “how can we burn down the system?” and the second, “how can we increase our awareness, improve our practices, and keep learning more truth together?”   

4. Are you becoming overly consumed with fear or anger?  

Of equal importance to all of this, is asking something a little more personal: What is happening inside us as we embrace a certain message?  Jesus Christ famously encourages his followers to focus on the “fruits” of those sharing any message. Although we often take that to refer to objective and practical consequences of a message (or a messenger), the Apostle Paul drew attention to the internal fruit of an idea or action when he taught the Galatians to watch for “love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith” as a litmus test for something in our lives. 

Does a message increase these things in our hearts and lives? Or the opposite? Joseph Smith once summarized simply, “truth tastes good.”  That doesn’t mean truth will necessarily always give us “warm fuzzies.” Especially when we’ve been living in a way contrary to truth, its acknowledgment can be painful and confusing (at least initially). But if a new insight or realization fills us with enduring dread, fear, anger, rage, accusation, and hardness—if those are its fruits—maybe we should take notice.  

In that case, something may be off, whether in the message, or the way the message is being shared. Even truthful messages can be shared with so much fear or aggression or arrogance that they lose something of their truth value—coming to function in our lives more like untruth. (Thus, the Lord warns that those who share truth in “some other way” other than the “Spirit of truth” are engaged in something that is “not of God.”)  

I’ve witnessed these days a darkening of countenance among some friends—and myself on occasion—in moments when we focus our minds upon especially dark, angry, fearful rhetoric. A lack of peace may also be an indication that the balance of our mental and emotional intake may be off, again as President Nelson has warned us. In my own life, I’ve found that I can either spend time listening to a lengthy podcast or spend quality time in the scriptures … but rarely both!  

5. Are you becoming estranged from otherwise good people and causes? 

Don’t allow yourself to become so suspicious of everything going on around you or anything said by public leaders that you lose a desire to stay engaged in your own local faith community, or the larger community—both of which involve opportunities to serve and lift hearts around us. As University of Miami political scientist Joseph Uscinski summarized potential characteristics of especially trust-corroding commentaries: “Our lives are controlled by plots hatched in secret places. Although we ostensibly live in a democracy, a small group of people runs everything, but we don’t know who they are. When big events occur—pandemics, recessions, wars, terrorist attacks—it is because that secretive group is working against the rest of us.” As author Rob Brotherton added, within such an ominous portrayal “assumes nothing is as it seems.”

Who wouldn’t disengage normal community involvement out of fear and disgust with this kind of all-pervasive suspicion? One1995 Stanford study found that people exposed to especially dark conspiracy theories were less likely to vote in an upcoming election and less likely to volunteer or donate to a political campaign. Simply watching a compelling portrayal of the suspicion “eroded,” as Brotherton summarized, “at least temporarily, a little of the viewer’s sense of civic engagement.”

So far, most of these cautions have been directed at those more inclined towards serious concern about behind-the-scenes dynamics not being acknowledged or considered in our public discussions today. The closing five are hopefully helpful to those more dismissive of the same.  

6. Are you open to something being true that isn’t yet widely acknowledged as true? 

This one seems a pretty fundamentally important question too. One thing that should keep us humble is the fact that in many cases, things that seemed outlandish and ridiculous at first, end up being borne out as surprisingly valid. For instance, Douthat reminds readers that rumors about pedophilia among Catholic priests and exploitation among Hollywood producers were largely dismissed as “conspiracy theories” in the past. As he adds elsewhere, “If you tell people not to listen to some prominent crank because that person doesn’t represent the establishment view or the consensus position, you’re setting yourself up to be written off as a dupe or deceiver whenever the consensus position fails or falls apart.”

On this basis, Douthat encourages people to be “taking conspiracy thinking a little more seriously—recognizing not only that it’s ineradicable, but also that it’s a reasonable response to both elite failures and the fact that conspiracies and cover-ups often do exist.” He elaborates his caution: “To worry too much about online paranoia outracing reality is to miss the most important journalistic task, which is the further unraveling of scandals that would have seemed, until now, too implausible to be believed.”

That’s probably something we should all let ourselves do on occasion—thinking critically about what we’re being told, including by official, trusted sources. We can do that without throwing out our equally essential bonds of trust and confidence as a larger community. It’s possible to walk and chew gum at the same time—and it’s possible to nurture trust and explore challenging questions together.

That healthy tension between openness and critical thinking is worth cultivating around us—and inside us personally. Ross Douthat suggests that “revealed religion offers a useful model.”

To be a devout Christian or a believing Jew or Muslim is to be a bit like a conspiracy theorist, in the sense that you believe that there is an invisible reality that secular knowledge can’t recognize and a set of decisive events in history that fall outside of nature’s laws. But the great religions are also full of warnings against false prophets and fraudulent revelations. 

He continues, “Some version of that … mixture of openness and caution, seems like a better spirit with which to approach the internet and all its rabbit holes than either a naïve credulity or a brittle confidence in mainstream media consensus.” 

In place of an atmosphere of condemnation for those considering alternative views, once again, this calls for conversation and attempts to persuade or teach each other, in a spirit of respect and love.  

7. Are you being too quick to condemn voices that do not line up with prevailing, popular views? 

Previously, we asked whether people were being too quick to believe especially generalized suspicions about broad swaths of people. The same thing applies to the specific case of how we regard any subset of Americans not yet comfortable to line up with “official” or popular views on the pandemic (or anything else). Are we too quick to condemn people like this? If so, it may say something more about ourselves than the people in question.

From a Christian point of view, alignment with popular opinion is rarely a good sign, nor is “scholarly consensus” as automatically reassuring as it is to secular minds. It’s also worth pointing out that the full truth is often unpopular and ridiculed by these same consensus views. Consistently, many truth-tellers—prophetic or otherwise—have been written off with a wide range of epithets over human history, largely because they were speaking about things people couldn’t see. 

Like that epic scene in the original 12 Angry Men, let’s practice the virtue of holding out the possibility of something that may not simply be apparent on the surface. [Here you see Henry Fonda  try to persuade 11 other jurors that “it’s possible [the accused is innocent] … I’m just saying it’s possible” and ask whether the witnesses “could be wrong?”] Even if the possibility turns out to be wrong, this exercise will elicit added compassion and patience for those holding a different view.  

Douthat also suggests (see I warned you you’d be getting a Ross-overdose!), “Take fringe theories more seriously when the mainstream narrative has holes. For example: If you tell me that the C.I.A. killed John F. Kennedy, I will be dismissive, because the boring official narrative of his assassination—hawkish president killed by a Marxist loner who previously tried to assassinate a right-wing general—fits the facts perfectly well on its own.”  

8. Are you selectively ignoring the influence of large sums of money being made by one stakeholder in the conversation? 

In an article following the suicide of Jeffrey Epstein (speculated by many to be a homicide), Ross Douthat cautioned about our haste to declare any theory involving speculation as reflecting mere paranoia. As he put it, “this dismissiveness can itself become an intellectual mistake, a way to sneer at speculation while ignoring an underlying reality that deserves attention or investigation.” In this way, “an admirable desire to reject bad or wicked theories can lead to a blindness about something important”—including various kinds of surreptitious activities that do, in fact, take place—concealed from public view. 

After acknowledging, as I have, the need to push back on excessively dark and accusing rhetoric against pharmaceutical companies, as an illustration, Douthat goes on to point out the other part of the picture: “If you aren’t somewhat paranoid about how often corporations cover up the dangers of their products, and somewhat paranoid about how drug companies in particular influence the medical consensus and encourage over prescription— well, then I have an opioid crisis you might be interested in reading about.” 

As one watchdog report recently confirmed, “Seventy-two senators and 302 members of the House of Representatives cashed a check from the pharmaceutical industry ahead of the 2020 election—representing more than two-thirds of Congress, according to a new STAT analysis of records for the full election cycle.” The report continued, “Pfizer’s political action committee alone contributed to 228 lawmakers. Overall, the sector donated $14 million … it remains routine for the elected officials who regulate the health care industry to accept six-figure sums.”

When it comes to the pandemic, is it really that crazy to have some honest questions about decisions, conclusions, and strategies that line up perfectly with advancing the larger interests of companies generating billions of dollars in revenue—OR is it crazy to not have any questions at all about the same?  

9. Are you minimizing ways in which basic freedoms of expression and action are being eroded?    

One of the things that’s most surprised me about the pandemic is how many brothers and sisters seem unconcerned about the dramatic expansion of hard limitations on freedom of speech, thought, and action all around the world, including in the United States. I admit sometimes wanting to ask many brothers and sisters directly: Are you really not seeing this? Do you really have no concern at all?  

I spoke with another writer I respect the other day, who acknowledged his concerns about freedom issues generally—but insisted the pandemic was an exception. In essence, he told me, “I share your concerns about the other kinds of threats to our freedom to speak and act, but because of the crisis we are in (and because of how confident I am in the scientific consensus), these restrictions are okay.”  

I couldn’t help but reflect on James Madison’s warning in the early days of the republic, “crisis is the rallying cry of the tyrant.” And I’ve since wanted to ask this good brother, “are you open to the idea that it’s precisely in a crisis like this when we need to preserve freedom of expression the most? When else is the need to keep our pursuit of truth unconstrained except in the middle of a confusing, complicated crisis?” 

10. Am I paying enough attention to past behavior as an indicator of future patterns?  

A common dictum in the social sciences is that the “best predictor of future behavior is past behavior”—a rule often descriptive in a natural world unfamiliar with the redemption of Christ. What past patterns should influence our expectations about present and future events?

Over my career, I’ve been fascinated by scholarship from Shannon Hughes, David Cohen, and others who have reviewed closely the research methodology of pharmaceutical company studies. What they have found should be troubling to all, in the pattern of documented ways in which research has been set up in a way that predisposes results favorable to industry interests (see here and here and here, for instance). It was their work that prompted me to do similar analyses of some of the “landmark research” published by Jana Riess and John Dehlin in the last decade, which —surprise, surprise—paints a damning picture of the church they can’t stop disparaging (even in their scholarship).   

So my own natural instinct when hearing about astronomically high success rates with any health intervention is to dig a little deeper, as I’ve done with both adult and child COVID-19 vaccinations. To my mind, an appreciation of this kind of deeper context for the research is crucial to be able to support fully informed choice. But can’t we just “leave this to the experts,” others wonder? Not in my view—not when the expert consensus in so many other areas of importance is simply wrong. (Even “best practice” guides in mental health have been unduly influenced by industry monies, as I will illustrate in a project later this year).  My own feeling is that it’s the relinquishing of our own ability to think and discern where the real danger lies, especially when those still asking additional questions receive quick condemnation. 

This kind of suppression of dissent is especially concerning when there is such a long-standing pattern that would confirm the reason for concern. Since my experience studying mental health and sexuality, I’ve been curious about whether similar patterns of research distortion show up in other industries—gathering books over the years that document similar patterns in other major industries including Big Agriculture, Big Food, Big Pharma, and virtually all major industries since Big Tobacco (who created the playbook for influencing public conversation in the 1950s). [e.g., Doubt is Their Product: How Industry’s Assault on Science Threatens Your Health (2008), Bending Science: How Special Interests Corrupt Public Health Research (2008)]

By now, many are also aware of published findings in the highly respected British Medical Journal of an internal review of documents shared by a whistleblower regional director who was employed at one of the research organizations (Ventavia) hired by Pfizer to help conduct their adult study. This employee told The BMJ: 

The [sub-contracting] company falsified data, unblinded patients, employed inadequately trained vaccinators, and was slow to follow up on adverse events reported in Pfizer’s pivotal phase III trial. Staff who conducted quality control checks were overwhelmed by the volume of problems they were finding. 

In her words, this employee said of the data Ventavia generated for the Pfizer trial: “I don’t think it was good clean data. It’s a crazy mess.” Two other former employees spoke to the British Medical Journal investigators and both “confirmed broad aspects of Jackson’s complaint.” As summarized in the analysis:

• “One said that she had worked on over four dozen clinical trials in her career, including many large trials, but had never experienced such a ‘helter-skelter’ work environment as with Ventavia on Pfizer’s trial.”
• Another told the BMJ, “I’ve never had to do what they were asking me to do, ever. It just seemed like something a little different from normal – the things that were allowed and expected.”

Does this apply to all the research on these vaccinations? Certainly not. This was only one of a number of organizations Pfizer contracted—many of which no doubt had more orderly processes. Even so, the report goes on to note that this same subcontractor was hired on several other clinical trials for vaccines, including COVID-19 vaccines in children and young adults, pregnant women, and a booster dose.  

The larger point is this: there is a history here and patterns that have repeated often. In the specific case of this industry, anyone who has studied the history of pharmaceutical company research will recognize these are not anomalies (this summary review from one of the former longstanding editors of The New England Journal of Medicine is just one of many illustrations). Given that, a final important question to seriously consider would be:   Are we being naïve about the likelihood of past, historically consistent patterns continuing today—and having relevance to the here and now? 

To be clear: the full answers to all these questions, including this last one, are difficult to discern and ultimately unknown to most human observers.  But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t still ask them.  

Seeking truth together—an aspiration to unite around. Like many other difficult cultural issues, believers generally and Latter-day Saints specifically are not going to be in agreement about different aspects of this and future pandemics. But I’m confident we can unify solidly around an emotional response to this all that transcends the fear, anger, and despair.

If the believers get consumed in despair, rage, or fear, who will be the ones to share hope with the world?  Followers of Jesus cannot be the ones in these tumultuous times falling into despair, enraged, or consumed by fear. Isn’t that so much of what President Nelson has been pleading with us to proactively seek and receive in our lives?  Joy, gratitude, kindness, peace, power, power, power …

Yes, it takes humility to be self-critical and push ourselves beyond the oversimplified, dopamine-spiking horror narratives all around us—in a way that helps us discern the full picture of what’s happening:  a picture where those we disagree with might be making major mistakes, but not consciously, and where honest differences in perspectives exist (and always will) about the best course forward.

But this kind of courage on all sides would invite a different kind of conversation, a bigger-hearted kind of conversation: with less incentive to write off All Those People as both wicked and intentionally malevolent, and much more space for mutual persuasion, learning, and expansion of understanding together.

It’s in that kind of conversation that we will all surely have the best chance of discerning the full truth of a matter—including about aspects not fully clear to public view. (As little training-wheels to a conversation with much bigger doses of generosity, curiosity, and openness, check out my dear friend Arthur Peña’s delightful conversation guide developed for what he calls “Truth Seeking Together”—with one particular guide directing people in a small group conversation around the question:  “What’s YOUR conspiracy theory? What do you think is ‘really going on’”?)

Rather than elevating more functional “reality czars” and investing in even more attempts to steer everyone toward “perfect consensus about the facts,” I’m among those who believe our energy should go towards “not a rigid defense of conventional wisdom, but the cultivation of a consensus supple enough to accommodate the doubter, instead of making people feel as if their only options are submission or revolt.”

To reiterate, if we want to know the full truth, a public conversation full of dark suspicion and hot animosity is the last place we’re going to find it. That’s why I and many others believe that so much depends on continuing to fight for a discourse where space for disagreement continues to coexist with trust, giving the benefit of the doubt, and generosity all around … especially when tricky, sensitive, and consequential questions are before us like we’ve seen before us during this pandemic. Disagreeing on questions of this caliber doesn’t make something a ridiculous conspiracy—not unless we insist on injecting dark overtones into every last explanation. It has to be possible to disagree deeply —including about life-and-death matters—without slicing away the crucial bonds of trust that preserve the precious union of our society.

The greatest work in the world is neither fighting a secret conspiracy nor attempting to vaccinate the world.  The greatest work in the world, as President Nelson stirringly reminded the youth several years back, is the gathering of Israel. May our concerns and worries about the former sundry issues never impede our ability to join together (across these other disagreements) to throw heart and soul into the latter. And as our prophet has publicly expressed, may our collective “perfect brightness of hope” and “hope for a better world” fill us as a people with a noticeable peace, joy, and power that others around us will recognize—and increasingly gather to in the contentious, confusing and chaotic days ahead.