
There was a kid I knew growing up who was a Grade A toxic masculinist. Like, really, really bad. A real Lord of the Flies type. Copious uses of the F-slur, especially if you showed any sensitivity and he smelled blood. He especially enjoyed trying to make kids cry, at which time he would get the other boys together and hound them even more. One time he threatened to cut off my [edited] and I remember thinking that he totally would if there wasn’t any adult supervision in the world. (As a strange aside, his dad was a real Mr. Rogers type, so this wasn’t a case of an abused kid lashing out, he really did seem to just be born that way.)
So anyway, you can imagine my surprise when I saw a leaving-the-Church Facebook post where he noted that when he was growing up he wondered why women couldn’t have the priesthood. My eyes rolled back hard. I grew up with the kid. The only “women’s issue” he was concerned with was how many of them he could hook up with.
I don’t think he was being insincere in his post, he probably does remember something along those lines, but the past several decades of memory research has shown us just how incredibly malleable our memories are, especially when motivations are at play. It is actually quite easy for scientists in laboratories to implant memories in subjects that they, for example, were lost in the mall for an extended period of time as a child when they weren’t.
To awkwardly transition, the latest thing in the LDS sphere that has been making the rounds is a book by Jeff Strong that interviews a very large number of disaffiliated members.. At the outset, I should note I have not read the book (although I have seen slides he’s put together summarizing the take-aways), so this isn’t a critique of his book per se, but if my understanding is correct, the idea is that a lot of the people who have left have been hurt, therefore, the Church wronged them, ergo the Church and its culture needs to change.
I’m sure there is useful information in ex-member accounts that we can learn from. However, I can’t help but think that for many ex-Mormon leaving narratives that you run across online, there are Church leaders or family members involved in those same events who saw the blue car swerve left instead of right, and have a very different take on what happened. (And of course, those people are also biased. Unless you’re an emotion-less automaton, we all are, and that’s fine.)
That’s one reason why in adversarial settings both sides of a court case, for example, collect their own testimonies and evidence, under the idea that if you juxtapose both arguments against each other it helps facilitate the truth rising to the surface as both sides push against and hold each other to account.* In the case of leavers, I assume that the truth is often somewhere in the middle between what they say and what their TBM parents/leaders would say, but assuming that the corpus of leavers presents the unvarnished truth is equivalent to only listening to the prosecution in a court case. Of course the person (in this case the Church and its culture) is going to sound guilty if you haven’t heard the other side of the story.
Of course, there are some contexts where an adversarial, both-sides approach is inappropriate. I don’t expect fast and testimony meeting to start including rebuttals, that’s not what it’s about. It’s supposed to just be faith-affirming, and if there’s a context where you want something to just be faith destroying by its nature then I guess that would be the equivalent.
And above and beyond motivated memory, sometimes we’re just bad at perceiving things. A famous illusion I show to my class when I teach the social psychology section shows how easy it is to miss very big things when you’re focusing on something else. In this case, while students are trying to count how many balls are being bounced, about a third of them routinely miss the man in a gorilla suit who walks in the middle of the frame, beats his chest, and walks off-screen. On one hand, if you’re focusing on things that fit into the Church-is-offensive narrative you can find it even if you have to misinterpret things to do so. On the other hand, if you’re focused on getting speakers for that Sunday, you can easily miss the things that are actually offensive and hurtful–the sword cuts both ways.
Does that mean that all is well in Zion with how we treat our brothers and sisters who have left? No, but in the same way that we should be skeptical of a devotional take on Church history that seems all roses and cream, neither should we feel an obligation to take the accounts of the hurt as unvarnished, unqualified reality and set our frameworks accordingly. Life and perception are messy.
*To be clear, Strong did interview orthodox members about Church culture, but according to what I saw, in particular regards to the phenomenology of leaving the almost exclusive emphasis was on the accounts of those who had left. This makes sense–it’s hard to track down the TBM associates who went through the same thing–but even so it still has the limitations outlined above.

Leave a Reply