Growing up, I was part of the group of church members who believed that caffeinated sodas were wrong. We drank root beer and Sprite and orange soda and I was consistent at "standing for truth and righteousness" by abstaining whenever I was offered a Coke. I'm a little embarrassed to say I remember thinking less of my future husband when I saw him order a Dr. Pepper at a restaurant.
This issue became a hot topic in our household. I knew that caffeine wasn't mentioned in the Word of Wisdom. I also knew that an isolated comment by one General Authority a long time ago didn't constitute church doctrine. Why then, did I feel so strongly about it? My argument was simple: regardless of what was said, caffeine is bad for you. And it's also addictive, which is bad. Finally my husband made a comment that shifted my paradigm: Sure, Coke isn't great for you, but neither are donuts. Why do you feel so opposed to one and not the other?
Here's the moral of the story: I realized that I had been treating caffeinated sodas as a MORAL issue, instead of an issue of PERSONAL JUDGMENT. And I had continued to treat it as a sin even when I clearly recognized that it was not forbidden by any commandment, policy or doctrine. I didn't even realize I was doing it.
God had not made caffeinated sodas forbidden, but somehow I still acted as though he had. Recognizing the unnecessary yoke I'd been wearing, I let go of seeing soda as a moral issue and gave myself the freedom to make a decision about soda (and donuts) as the Lord puts it, "according to wisdom" (D&C 63:44) or "as seemeth you good" (D&C 60:35).
This type of hidden morality can have a powerful influence. A recent article in Public Square Magazine pointed out that someone can belong to what amounts to a religion without realizing it. Many people in society today adhere to an unspoken set of codes about what you can and can't say and do, who are the "righteous" and the "sinners", the need for punishment and repentance. These invisible values and assumptions are often promoted and adopted unconsciously, leading many well-intentioned people who consider themselves objective and scientific to "teach for doctrines the commandments of men" (Mark 7:7).
Interestingly, this new secular religion has led to an explosion of moral standards, not a reduction. Their commandments now cover secular topics which are never mentioned in any book of scripture. Diversity, global warming, vaccines - judgments of "good" "bad", "right" and "wrong" quickly accompany a discussion about virtually everything.
It's important to note that there is a difference between saying something is a bad idea and that it is morally wrong. A bad idea is a just an opinion based on a set of facts. A moral wrong is an untouchable, unchangeable tenet, a test of character and integrity, something to defend at all costs regardless of the facts, practicality or changing circumstances. When someone doesn't recycle, or asks to touch a black girl's hair, or hosts an all-male discussion panel, we sometimes attribute actions to wickedness (and its synonyms oppression, racism, toxic behavior, etc.) what may better be described as unwise, unhelpful, inconsiderate, or sometimes just a difference of opinion.
Is that distinction just splitting hairs? Why does it matter if we distinguish between opinions and moral stances? Those who view all secular subjects through a moral lens can usually find a way to make every issue boil down to a failure to "love thy neighbor" (you don't recycle? You clearly hate our grandchildren. You think "all lives matter"? You clearly don't care about people of color.) Often the argument will simply boil down to "people are dying!" as though that should end any need for critical thought or discussion.
Why does it matter? First of all - that is a rabbit hole that can literally go on forever (You threw a sock on the ground? You think I'm your maid and now I'm being oppressed). But secondly and more importantly, having a moral stance on every issue often makes it harder to solve that issue.
When we fashion our own religion where ANYTHING can be viewed as a moral issue, it means that there’s no room for nuance, negotiation or persuasion. By taking a “moral” stance (as opposed to "holding an opinion") on carbon emissions, gendered bathrooms, or immigration, it insists on specific solutions and then freezes all parties into positions they can’t relinquish or compromise on without ostensibly shirking their values. Hence, nothing gets done.
Furthermore, if one's stance on the nature or solution to a problem becomes a moral absolute, then those who disagree are not simply of a different opinion, they are seen as someone with less character and integrity. Civil discourse disappears, all relationships quickly become toxic, and zero progress is made in the realm of public policy.
Is there only one approach to solving racism? Is the suicide rate of LGBTQ teenagers only caused by one thing? Are there alternative approaches to addressing greenhouse gases? Taking a moral stance about "the root of the issue" or "the right way to solve that problem" or "whose voice deserves to be heard" can discourage the kinds of back-and-forth that builds bridges, fosters collaboration, and leads to insightful, creative, high-quality solutions.
Deciding whether the police or BLM protestors are the "good guys" doesn't actually help us solve the problems of police shootings. It just creates a religious narrative accompanied by a sense of moral justice and demand for righteous punishment (in the form of shaming, jailing, or firing). If we treat the issue as a problem afflicting all parties, it becomes a problem to be solved instead of a stance to be defended or a person to be punished.
In recent years, many initiatives around the country, including the Inner Harbor Project in Baltimore, have teamed up police with teenagers and community members to improve relationships across the board. They teach police how to communicate better with local residents and helps teenagers better navigate public spaces and create creative systems to foster goodwill with local business owners. These reformers recognize that getting one person fired from the police force will only address one aspect of the problems they are living with.
Historically, the Progressive movement of the early 1900's also provides good examples of this approach. In his new book The Upswing, Robert Putnam recounts the dizzying success of these reformers at addressing social problems of their day - women's suffrage, the Boy Scouts, Red Cross, Kiwanis and Lions and Rotary clubs, universal high school, labor unions, antitrust legislation, public libraries, child labor laws, the FDA, funding for disability and unemployment all stemmed from this period. Progressive reformers were members of both parties, and had bipartisan support for their efforts. Putnam identified two key characteristics among these reformers, who included people like Jane Addams, Margaret Sanger, Ida Wells, and both of the Roosevelts: they were people saw needs in their society, and they believed they had the power to address them.
This can-do attitude had indisputable success in American society, in large part because problems were seen as independent issues, and not the fault of a specific group in society. This allowed Progressives to work cooperatively with people in many different groups for a shared purpose, which not only got "buy-in" from more segments of society, but also built better solutions. Bills passed during this era often had the support of 70-80% of the members of both parties. Rather than radical, one-sided solutions, barely shoved into law by the majority party, social reformers and politicians crafted quality legislation together as teammates and fellow collaborators in their quest for a better America.
The original Progressives were successful because they saw problems, not sins, and they measured effectiveness, instead of righteousness.
Even their name is telling: social reformers reform. Social justice warriors only slay.
Maybe, like you, you are one of the unwitting victims of unconscious moralizing: Pick a social issue you care about. Identify your own beliefs about the nature of the issue, who or what is to blame, and what the solutions are, and then assess whether you hold those as opinions or moral absolutes: would your opinion change if studies came out disproving some of the premises of your argument? Do you feel morally superior to people who disagree with you? Do you feel a sense of satisfaction when they meet with failure, embarrassment, or social chastising?
Morality, whether attached to an organized religion or not, is a critical part of our humanity and our society. But secular morality, disconnected from traditional religion, is not superior. In fact, it can become its own form of religion, with commandments, superstitions, rituals and taboos - the problem is, because that religion is unseen, adherents may ethnocentrically feel that their beliefs and values are "common sense", as opposed to just one way of looking at things.
I will not attempt to change anyone's mind about that invisible religion, but I do hope that those with sincerely charitable desires will put off the soothing illusion that their sense of moral uprightness will actually improve society. Instead, may we see each other as teammates; even if others' priorities, perceptions, or solutions disagree with ours. Allow issues to shed their moral implications and just treat them as the social problems they are - things that ultimately hurt all of us.
