Sunday, June 24, 2012

Daniel Peterson and the Maxwell Institute

This is not my doctrine--to stir up people's hearts with anger against one another. (3 Nephi 11:30)
Thanks to Peggy Fletcher Stack and William Hamblin, we now know more about Daniel Peterson's removal from the editorship of the Mormon Studies Review, (formerly the FARMS Review, formerly the FARMS Review of Books, formerly the Review of Books on the Book of Mormon).

Eight years ago, I wrote in Sunstone that I thought the new apologetics represented by FARMS and FAIR was a "mixed blessing for the Saints." On the plus side, the apologists were pulling against anti-intellectualism within Mormonism and promoting a relatively more progressive version of LDS orthodoxy. On the other hand, I wished "that the verbally aggressive polemics of some apologists"--including Daniel Peterson, Louis Midgley, and William Hamblin--"would be more roundly denounced by their peers" in the name of rejecting the spirit of contention.

Eight years later, I've kind of gotten my wish. But there are some aspects of how this has happened that are discouraging from the point of view of someone who would like to see less hierarchical authority and more freedom of expression in Mormonism.

It's evident in retrospect--this is how Hamblin characterizes the situation, at least--that FARMS' incorporation into BYU was something of a bargain with the devil. Or to use a less loaded metaphor: there have been unintended consequences. Becoming part of the Maxwell Institute gave FARMS and its work a new level of legitimacy within the Mormon world. But it also meant that FARMS lost its independence. Being part of BYU linked FARMS institutionally to the LDS Church in a way that has made it more liable to scrutiny by church leaders and more vulnerable to their intervention.

Daniel Peterson knew this was a possibility when the merger occurred. A story Peggy Fletcher Stack wrote back in 1997 quoted him as saying, "FARMS has often had a polemical edge and we are curious to see how or whether that will be accommodated . . . The minute I write something offensive, we'll see if I get a call." Apparently the call finally came--from a General Authority acting on behalf of John Dehlin.

Which for me is troubling. In principle, I can't cluck about that kind of intervention-by-hierarchical-fiat when it's used to rein in liberals I like, but then cheer when it's used to rein in orthodox apologists I don't like. As far as I'm concerned, what Dehlin did in appealing for a General Authority's intervention was morally equivalent to the people who back in the 1990s were writing letters to General Authorities to complain about David Knowlton, or Cecilia Konchar Farr, or Brian Evensen. Yes, I'm sure that readers who want to defend Dehlin can point out to me why those cases are different. But the strategy is fundamentally the same: Go to the Brethren, get them to use their weight to silence the voices you don't want people to hear. Not a very liberal thing to do, John.

In fact, I was trying to think: Has there been, on the other side of the aisle, a case where General Authorities intervened to prevent the publication of a liberal or revisionist article? I haven't been able to recollect one, though I can certainly think of cases where General Authorities have intervened to penalize liberals or revisionists after the fact for things they had published. Conversely, I can think of another situation (that is, a situation comparable to Dehlin's) where Mormon liberals pressured publications not to run pieces they thought would be damaging to them: it's been alleged that some historians tried to keep Sunstone--and other Mormon periodicals, if I remember correctly--from allowing Louis Midgley and other conservatives to attack the New Mormon Historians in print during the early 1980s.

Someone, please, correct me if I'm overlooking something. But it looks to me like the lesson here might be: conservatives will punish you for what you publish, but liberals will try to keep your work from going to press in the first place.
We have learned by sad experience that it is the nature and disposition of almost all people, as soon as they get a little authority, as they suppose, to immediately begin to exercise unrighteous dominion. (D&C 121:39)
On a more purely practical note: I suspect that Gerald Bradford is making an administrative blunder in cutting apologetics out of the Mormon Studies Review, if that is, indeed, what's going on here. It sounds like he wants to make the Mormon Studies Review more academically respectable--the kind of publication that university libraries might be persuaded to subscribe to, like they do Dialogue or Journal of Mormon History. Accomplishing that means trying to talk to larger scholarly audiences, who don't care about the insider issues that preoccupy apologists. But Bradford's goal (if I'm reading it correctly) is rather like dropping the proverbial bird in the hand for the sake of the one in the bush. We'll see what happens, of course, but I have a hunch that lots of people subscribed to the FARMS Review because they valued its apologetic contributions--even enjoyed its "feisty" polemics. Will such subscribers rally to Bradford's vision for the Mormon Studies Review? I'm doubtful. And how will the Mormon Studies Review distinguish itself from BYU Studies? I'm far from a marketing expert, but it seems to me there are potential problems here with lost niches and market saturation. Not that I'm rooting for the success of any initiative of the Maxwell Institute's, but... whatever.

1 comment:

Christopher Smith said...

You wrote, "It looks to me like the lesson here might be: conservatives will punish you for what you publish, but liberals will try to keep your work from going to press in the first place."

I have to admit, I'm surprised someone would make this claim in the correlation era. Anyway, the best example of pre-publication censorship by conservatives is the case of D. Michael Quinn. Quinn was instructed not to publish his 1984 MHA paper, an instruction which he obeyed. In 1986, the LDS archives refused to admit him unless he signed an agreement giving them the right to pre-publication censorship of anything he wrote. He hasn't returned since. Heck, even the post-hoc ecclesiastical punishment of people like Quinn for publishing things is designed to have a chilling effect on similar publications in the future.

Even prior to the Correlation Era, there were items like B. H. Roberts's The Way, the Truth, the Life, and Stephen Richards's April 1932 Conference talk.