This is Part 2 in an essay series covering the social psychology of conspiracism and how it manifests in Mormon culture. In Part 1 of this series, we discussed the epistemic motives the drive conspiracy beliefs. In this essay, we will explore existential motives regarding our need to feel safe, secure, and autonomously in control of our own fates within our social environments. In a later essay, we will explore the social motives dealing with our desires for belonging and to to maintain a positive image of ourselves and the groups to which we belong.
Existential Motives
In additional to providing sense-making narratives, conspiracy theories appeal to the ubiquitous human existential desires for safety, security, and autonomy in one’s environment. When these needs are threatened, the adoption of conspiracy theories may provide some compensatory satisfaction (Douglas et al., 2017). On the surface, conspiracy belief may seem counterproductive in satisfying each of the above-listed existential needs. Why would someone desiring to feel safe, secure, and in control of their situation choose to believe that a group of powerful and immoral conspirators are working against the common good? The answer lies in how conspiracy theories identify particular threats and provide a sense of personal empowerment in responding to those threats. As Wood & Douglas (2018) explain: “On a very basic level, conspiracy theories are basically stories about power—the secret power of a particular group, and the new power of the people who have come to see through their deception.”
In the sections below, we will explore several facets of human social psychology and how they correlate with conspiracy belief. We will identify ubiquitous human tendencies to make particular forms of social misjudgments that promote paranoid social behavior and amenability to conspiracy thinking. As we discuss each these, we will explore ways in which the social dynamics of Mormon communities may encourage attitudes or certain modes of thinking that may contribute to the enculturation of a conspiracist mindset.
Table of Contents
- Need for Control
- Powerful Personalities
- Intentionality and Anthropomorphism
- Dysphoric Self-Consciousness
Need for Control
Foremost among the existential motives for conspiracy belief is the Need for Control. Simply stated, we experience psychological distress when we perceive that circumstances or events are beyond our influence or control—especially when access to a valued resource hangs in the balance. This psychological distress sets the stage for epistemic sense-making and motivates the search for potential threats to the security of our well-being (Douglas et al., 2017; Gligorić et al., 2021). As such, the epistemic motives for conspiracy belief are often intertwined with existential motives. In this way, our Need for Control is not entirely separable from our Need for Coherence (see Part 1).
Consider our previous discussion of apophenia—the tendency to identify patterns amidst randomness. When troublesome circumstances emerge from unpredictable events, we are prepared to construct narratives of plausible coherence by identifying patterns between clusters of random events and inferring causality where none may actually exist (see Part 1). Identifying threats is one of these sense-making activities we may engage in as part of an effort to restore perceived coherence and identify targets for restoring control. We will discuss this further below with regards to the intentionality and hostile attribution biases. For the present, it is sufficient to recognize that sensations of futility or impotence regarding one’s fate or present circumstances are aversive and anything that reduces this dysphoria is reinforcing, even if illusory or logically fallacious.
Conspiracy theories explain events or circumstances as resulting from identifiable determinants, rather than random happenstance. Conspiracy theories may instill a sense of security by identifying untrustworthy groups or individuals as the source of one’s troubles and thereby reduce or neutralize the threat they represent by making them known. Furthermore, conspiracy theories also present the opportunity to reject official accounts in favor of alternative narratives, which may instill a sense of autonomy by challenging the authority of those perceived as possessing disproportionate control of social discourse (e.g., scientists, historians, politicians, etc.). However, some evidence suggests that the immediate effect of exposure to conspiracy theories is a sense of decreased autonomy and control, which may ironically exacerbate existential motives for adopting conspiracy beliefs (Douglas et al., 2017).
Power and Marginalization
Considerable research demonstrates that conspiracy belief is heightened by social ostracism or disempowerment (Douglas et al., 2017). The experience of anomie—feelings of social alienation, disconnection, or that one’s own values and beliefs are not represented in broader society—is known to correlate strongly with conspiracy beliefs (Wood & Douglas, 2018). Studies have demonstrated that people will turn to conspiracy theories when they are anxious (Grzesiak-Feldman, 2013), feel powerless (Abalakina-Paap et al., 1999), or lack sociopolitical control or psychological empowerment (Bruder et al., 2013). Additionally, experimentally undermining someone’s sense of control over outcomes leads to an immediate intensification of conspiracy belief, whereas affirming their sense of control temporarily attenuates conspiracy belief (van Prooijen & Acker, 2015).
Conspiracy theories are fundamentally narratives about power. They identify the disruptive power held by groups of malevolent conspirators while simultaneously empowering believers by revealing hidden information wherewith they may resist the power of their oppressors. A ubiquitous theme of conspiracy theories is that the fragile power of the conspirators is maintained principally through secrecy and deception. If the cloak of subterfuge can be penetrated, the power of the conspirators may be nullified. In this manner, conspiracy theorists become heroic underdogs who speak truth to power and awaken the sleeping masses to the invisible chains with which they are bound. Therefore, while conspiracy theories invoke disconcerting narratives that amplify feelings of existential crisis, which on the surface may seem disempowering, they also provide an illusion of empowerment by casting believers as part of a heroic resistance (Brotherton, 2015; Douglas et al., 2018).
A Culture of Embattlement
Mormons have historically had a complicated relationship with power. Ever a minority faith, they have gathered geographically and leveraged their communitarianism to create localized political dominance and advance their cultural interests. However, ambitions for expanding influence, and beliefs in a destined reality where the Mormon vision of the Kingdom of God will fill the whole earth, have historically led to situations where Mormons frighten and intimidate their neighbors, who have responded with suspicion and hostility. As this pattern repeated itself—from Ohio, to Missouri, to Illinois, and eventually to Utah—Mormons have frequently found themselves facing political opposition and sometimes even violent persecution. As a result, Mormons retain a sharp sense of disenfranchisement and a cultural identity as an embattled minority. To be clear, much of this stems from historical realities of persecution, political disenfranchisement, and social ostracization. However, some of the 21st-century cultural persecution complex is also born from a lopsided retelling of history that often exaggerates Mormon marginalization. While Mormons have historically engaged in power struggles with outsiders, much of that was in reaction to the authoritarian control that Mormon leaders exerted through their local majority status, often by disenfranchising and marginalizing others.
Nonetheless, narratives of persecution, disenfranchisement, and political marginalization are no stranger to Mormon communities. A collective sense of anomie is coupled with the Mormon sense of social peculiarity. Mormons are enculturated with the idea that Mormon beliefs and values are not represented in “Gentile” society—sometimes referred to as Babylon in Mormon hymns and scripture. Perceptions of anomie are reinforced when anti-Mormon Evangelicals deride Mormonism as a dangerous cult, through unfavorable portrayals of fundamentalist Mormons in the media, and by critiques from social progressives with whom Mormons are increasingly at political odds. The salience of these examples weighs heavier in the Mormon psyche than favorable portrayals of Mormons, or the disproportionate political power Mormons have enjoyed at the local and national levels relative to their representation in society. It also outweighs the prevalence with which the social values that Mormons share with economic and political conservatives are represented in broader society. Nevertheless, Mormons are frequently bombarded with narratives about their peculiarity within society. However, that peculiarity is frequently construed as a mark of exceptionalism—wherein Mormons are the heroic underdogs ever overcoming opposition from the hostile majority to perform God’s work in the world.
Powerful Personalities
Much of the research on the psychology of conspiracism as focused on identifying the characteristics of individuals predictive of conspiracy belief. We have discussed several of these already in this essay series, focusing primarily on differences in thinking styles within the dual processes theory of cognition. Until now, I have avoided discussion of “personality traits” associated with conspiracy thinking. This is in part because I have my own theoretical prejudices against the tendency among some psychologists to use personality as a construct to explain behavior, while inferring personality from those same behaviors. However, we simply cannot review the literature on the psychology of conspiracism without discussing the reliable observation that certain measures of personality (i.e., clusters of behavior) reliably show a strong correlation with conspiracy mindset (another concept we could theoretically deconstruct, but not for now).
Before going further, I need to reiterate a point that is centrally important to this research project on Mormon conspiracism. In a previous essay, I expressed:
No one is born a conspiracist; worldviews are generally acquired through socialization. Undoubtedly, there are characteristics that make individuals more or less receptive to conspiracy thinking, but I genuinely believe that people develop conspiracist mindsets primarily through social conditioning in our formative communities. Therefore, instead of asking: “What are the features of individuals that make them more prone to conspiracy thinking,” perhaps we should be asking: “What are the features of social environments that may condition individuals into a conspiracist worldview?”
This is the framework through which I am exploring how the psychology of conspiracism may help us to better understand the proliferation of conspiracy theories in Mormon communities. In so doing, I hope to avoid committing the fundamental attribution error by pathologizing conspiracy believers as inherently different from “normal” members of the community. Data supports that everyone engages in conspiracy thinking in different settings and to varying degrees, though some individuals come to develop a generalized conspiracy worldview (Brotherton, 2015). I submit that particularly active conspiracy theorists are simply individuals who have been disproportionately exposed to the social conditions that foster the enculturation of generalized conspiracism.
Having said that, let’s explore the frequent research observation that persons expressing certain personality profiles more frequently endorse conspiracy theories.
Authoritarianism and Social Dominance
Among the personality traits identified by researchers as associated with conspiracy belief are authoritarianism and social dominance orientation. Authoritarianism is a personality profile characterized by dogmatism, deference to authority, preference for conformity, and a willingness to employ coercion to stifle opposition.
Although right-wing authoritarianism (RWA) has historically dominated research attention on authoritarian personality (original research efforts were focused on measuring fascist attitudes in the 1930s–1950s), left-wing authoritarianism (LWA) is another expression of a “shared psychological core.” The primary difference between RWA and LWA—apart from political ideology—appears to be openness to new experiences, trust in science, and the value placed on conventionalism. However, both RWA and LWA are similarly correlated with generic conspiracy belief, need for cognitive closure, and belief in a dangerous world. Notably, both are also correlated with social dominance orientation (Conway et al., 2021; Costello et al., 2022).
Social dominance orientation (SDO) is defined as the extent to which individuals favor group-based hierarchy (especially a desire for one’s in-group to be dominant to out-groups), and a general tendency toward anti-egalitarianism within and between groups. Several studies have demonstrated a correlation between SDO and conspiracy mindset (Bruder et al., 2013; Hartman et al., 2021). Importantly, this association appears to be independent of SDO’s correlation with authoritarianism (Dyrendal et al., 2021). Inasmuch as conspiracy theories are fundamentally narratives about who ought to and who currently wields power over whom, it makes sense that endorsement of conspiracy theories is more prevalent among individuals scoring high in SDO.
Although SDO and authoritarianism are each correlated with conspiracy belief, studies have found that when it comes to predicting belief in specific conspiracy theories, content matters. Unsurprisingly, political ideology (and by extension, RWA vs LWA) has a strong influence on the acceptance of conspiracy narratives rich with political content (Brotherton & Son, 2021; Hartman et al., 2021). Persons who are politically conservative (and score high in RWA) are more likely to endorse conspiracy theories about political liberals (such as birtherism or QAnon); whereas political liberals (and those scoring high in LWA) show higher acceptance rates of conspiracy theories about political conservatives (such as Trump-Russia collusion or 9/11 trutherism). Similarly, SDO is predictive of belief in specific conspiracy theories only insofar as their narrative content does not undermine one’s perceptions of the superiority of their in-group. As Wood & Douglas (2018) articulate: “conspiracy theories about a particular group seem particularly likely when someone holds unfavorable social stereotypes about them, or when the less powerful party in a hierarchical social relationship has little control over matters but depends on the more powerful party for a vital resource.”
A Culture of Hierarchical Authority
By virtue of the organizational structure of the priesthood, Mormon communities are intrinsically hierarchical and generally authoritarian. The priesthood—around which the entirety of church organization is structured—is divided into many tiers of hierarchs. First, there is the Aaronic and Melchizedek division, with the former being a lesser and “preparatory” authority subsumed within the latter. Within each of these priesthoods are the various offices of deacon, teacher, priest, elder, high priest, bishop, stake president, seventy, apostle, and President of the Church. The hierarchical preeminence of authority between these offices is meticulously defined and understood by all. Moreover, priesthood authority further divides Mormon communities between the ordained (“worthy” teenage boys and men) and the unordained (women, children, and “unworthy” males). Only the ordained may hold positions of ecclesiastical authority with final decision-making power regarding matters affecting the congregation (limited by the scope of the stewardship associated with one’s priesthood office). Importantly, the decisions made by presiding priesthood authorities are absolute—they are not to be challenged or criticized by those within their stewardship, provided they are not in conflict with a priesthood officer above them in the hierarchy.
This hierarchical and authoritarian culture of Mormonism extends far beyond the church doors. It shows up especially in the home, where fathers are designated the presiding authorities of their families. The Patriarchal Order has long been taught as the divinely-ordained structure of not just individual families, but of the human family and as the basic unit of society. God the Father is our Eternal Patriarch, and righteously devoted Mormon men will become the exalted patriarchs of their own eternal families. Their wives become priestesses unto their husband, who will serve their marital Lord by bringing spirit children into being who will learn to serve their deified father just as we must learn to serve our Heavenly Father. The principle that underlies this pattern is deference and wholehearted obedience to patriarchal authority.
Finally, Mormon teachings also promote a notion of cultural supremacy expressed as Mormon exceptionalism. As early as Joseph Smith, the idea that Zion—a community of Mormons representing the political Kingdom of God—is destined to reign supreme over all other human institutions has been a defining theme of the Mormon faith. Accordingly, members of Zion will have all things in common and there will be no divisions among them, but Zion will dominate their enemies and dismantle the powers and principalities of the Gentile world. The day when this shall happen has always been around the corner in the cultural psyche of Latter-day Saints. Furthermore, Mormonism’s multigenerational history of chosen lineage teachings used to justify Mormon exceptionalism and racial restrictions have created a culture rich in social dominance narratives.
I propose that the hierarchical nature of priesthood authority and high prevalence of narratives promoting Mormon exceptionalism may encourage behaviors and attitudes that are congruent with authoritarian personality or social dominance orientation. The enculturation of unquestioning deference to priesthood authority may increase the tolerance for benevolent authoritarianism in Mormon communities. The long-standing Mormon relationship with political conservatism ensures that right-wing authoritarianism will be more common than its left-wing counterpart in Mormon communities. Generations of promoting Anglo-Israelism to support Mormon exceptionalism, and of sacralizing white supremacy to justify historic racial restrictions to the temple and priesthood ordination, arguably contribute to enculturating attitudes consistent with social dominance orientation.
Intentionality and Anthropomorphism
Conspiracy theories are more than just narratives about power, they are also stories about intent. Conspiracy theories posit that events and circumstances are orchestrated through the covert actions of intentional agents, rather than accident or happenstance. Such narratives are aided by a natural human disposition to attribute intentionality behind observed phenomena as part of an involuntary, automatic cognitive process—the intentionality bias. By default, we interpret observed events as the product of intentional agents, but learn through experience to override that initial interpretation in particular circumstances (Brotherton 2015; Brotherton & French, 2015; Petrican & Burris, 2012).
Suppose someone bumps into you at a party, causing you to spill your drink on yourself. You’re more likely to be annoyed—but recognize that it was an accident—if you haven’t already drank a few cocktails. After a few drinks, however, your analytic thinking may be impaired and your intuitions rule the day; you’ll be more likely to accuse them of intentionally knocking the drink from your hands. Even adults default to assumptions of intentionality which we contextually reinterpret—provided that the mental resources to do so are available and unimpaired. Sometimes those initial perceptions of intentionality can be very difficult to ignore (Brotherton, 2015).
A classic demonstration of this bias in action is provided by the Heider and Simmel (1944) exercise, found in the video below:
In this video, a collection of geometric shapes flit around the screen, moving in and out of a stationary rectangle with a section that opens or closes in a door-like fashion. While the shapes are definitely not intentional agents, very few viewers watch this video without interpreting the moving shapes as interactive characters—complete with personality, motives, needs, and desires (Brotherton, 2015). Analytically, we know that these shapes are not intentional agents, but intuitively we perceive them as such before we suppress that intuition with re-interpretative thought. This tendency is an expression of the representativeness heuristic (see Part 1).
The Heider and Simmel exercise also demonstrates a corollary of our intentionality bias—the tendency to anthropomorphize nonhuman forces, objects, and animals. To varying degrees, we have a tendency to impute human characteristics on to nonhuman entities (Petrican & Burris, 2012; Brotherton & French, 2015). The most common example is found in how we interact with pets and companion animals. Most people naturally interpret animal behavior through the lens of human thoughts and emotions. This is so natural to us that we may even become defensive when we’re challenged on whether it is appropriate. Therefore, also consider how children respond to puppets as if they are actually living, thinking, and feeling beings distinct from the puppeteer. As we mature and gain more experience, we learn to recognize that Kermit the Frog is not alive, conscious, or independent of the performer controlling him. Additionally, consider how people will talk to their car, computer, or other machines when they are not operating as desired. They may berate it, plead with it, or offer it encouraging words, as if it is a conscious being capable of understanding and choosing to respond to verbal feedback.
The combination of the intentionality and anthropomorphism biases have broad implications for a considerable variety of social phenomena—including belief in conspiracy theories. Researchers have reliably found that individuals who are more prone to overattribute intentionality or to anthropomorphize nonhuman entities are also more likely to belief in conspiracy theories or express a generalized conspiracy mindset (Imhoff & Bruder, 2014; Brotherton & French, 2015; Douglas et al., 2016).
A Theology of Anthropomorphic Agency
Mormon theology is inherently anthropomorphic, above and beyond that of the Christian tradition from which it emerged. While traditional Christianity has anthropomorphized God plenty, it has principally done so metaphorically. God is described as the Father and the Son, with hands and feet, etc., but these descriptions are generally taught to be interpreted figuratively, not literally. Of course, that does not mean that all Christians avoid drawing literal interpretations from anthropomorphized descriptions of God—Mormons being a poignant example. In Mormon theology, God is literally the Father of our spirits and Jesus Christ is God’s literal Son and our literal brother. Satan is a literal being and also our literal brother. God the Father is married to our literal Heavenly Mother, who is a physical being with female body parts, just as Heavenly Father is a physical being with male body parts. In this way, Mormon theology is the radical literalization of traditional Christian anthropomorphic metaphors for the Divine.
Furthermore, Mormons conceive of a universe directed by a preternatural and interventionist God, assisted by angelic beings and opposed by Satan and his demonic host. Under normal circumstances, these beings are all an unseen but nonetheless present influence in everyday life. Additionally, Mormon theology centers human agency in the grand design of the eternities. As a consequence, nearly all events in daily human experience can be connected to the actions of one agentic being or another—be they human, heavenly, or demonic. Intention is seemingly everywhere and readily invoked to explain events that otherwise are seemingly incomprehensible. Again, Mormonism is not unique in this regard, but Mormonism takes these ideas and expands upon them in unique ways. Mormonism centers the battle over human agency as the foundational narrative of the cosmos—everything hinges on the intentional actions of eternal beings, including humans.
As we discussed in the previous essay, Mormon narratives often convey that “nothing happens by accident” or that there is a purpose behind everything. Personal hardships and tragedies are variously interpreted as the fruits of unfaithfulness or as trials given to us for spiritual growth and refinement. Conversely, successes and auspicious events are ofttimes construed as the blessings of personal righteousness or the worldly prosperity afforded by Satan to lull people into pride and lackadaisical attitudes toward God. Whatever the circumstances, Mormons are prepared to seek for the meaning behind life events in a manner that assumes the influence of intentional, anthropomorphic beings.
Hostile Attribution Bias
On their own, unchecked biases toward anthropomorphism and intentionality need not necessarily represent risk factors for conspiracy belief. Indeed, one can treat their pets as though human, hold conversations with their coffee maker, or perceive intentionality behind shapes moving about on a TV screen, without believing that their pets, appliances, or animated triangles are part of an elaborate conspiracy against humanity. However, in combination with another intuitive proclivity—the hostile attribution bias—mistakenly perceiving intentional, humanlike agents where none exist may become far more problematic (Brotherton, 2015). The hostile attribution bias is the tendency to interpret malevolence in the actions of others, even when there is no clear reason to ascribe such. For example, consider what scenes you imagine while reading the following statements:
- Karen kicked the dog.
- The boy popped the balloon.
- The student tripped the teacher.
Each of these sentences could be interpreted either as an intentional act or an accidental occurrence. The intentionality bias is manifest when we default to interpretations of the former. The hostile interpretation bias enters the equation when we further interpret those perceived intentions as malicious. Envisioning an angry Karen, a mischievous boy, or a rebellious student are all examples of the hostile attribution bias. Karen might have kicked the dog by accident, or she might have intentionally kicked the dog because it was attacking someone. I’m willing to bet you imagined that Karen kicked the dog because she’s a sadistic dog-hater. Likewise, the boy may have popped the balloon by accident or he might have popped it because there was a treat inside. However, you imagined a little rapscallion holding a shiny pin and wearing a wicked grin, didn’t you?
The hostile attribution bias transforms our tendency to perceive intentionality everywhere into a search for malevolent actors. Evolutionarily speaking, this may have been an adaptive default tendency. However, it is also not difficult to see how this hypervigilance, left unchecked, could contribute to imagining a world filled with sinister plots orchestrated by preternaturally competent conspirators (Brotherton, 2015).
The hostile attribution bias has been studied by social psychologists for several decades, especially with regards to paranoid cognition. Paranoid cognition has been defined as “persecutory delusions and false beliefs whose propositional content clusters around ideas of being harassed, threatened, harmed, subjugated, persecuted, accused, mistreated, wronged, tormented, disparaged, vilified, and so on, by malevolent others, either specific individuals or groups” (Colby, 1981). This definition may sound extreme, but it is important to recognize that milder forms of paranoid cognitions are actually “quite prevalent among normal individuals” (Kramer, 1998). It is not unusual for ordinary people to periodically engage in “self-centered thought, suspiciousness, assumptions of ill will or hostility, and even notions of conspiratorial intent—that are reminiscent of paranoia” (Fenigstein & Vanable, 1992). We sometimes perceive that others are talking about us or taking advantage of us in the events of everyday life. As Roderick Kramer (1998) explains:
These more ordinary variants of paranoid social cognition can be construed as forms of social misperception and misjudgement characterized by misplaced or exaggerated, rather than false or delusional, distrust and suspicion of others. [...] They constitute, in short, attempts by social perceivers to make sense of, and cope with, threatening and disturbing social environments. Stated another way, these ordinary and more benign forms of paranoid cognition can be viewed as intendedly adaptive responses to disturbing situations rather than manifestation of disturbed individuals.
This point is critical to our conversation about conspiracy belief in Mormon communities. To reiterate, the goal of this project is to identify the ways that Mormon social dynamics may encourage modes of thinking that are amenable to conspiracy belief, not to pathologize people as abnormally paranoid via a diagnostic list of individual characteristics. Therefore, I hope to emphasize that we are all prone to the hostile attribution bias and paranoid cognitions to varying degrees under diverse settings and circumstances. Indeed, the nature of those settings and circumstances is critically important, as Kramer (1998) explains:
To understand social behavior it is essential to examine the "information and social environments within which behavior occurs and to which it adapts" (Salancik & Pfeffer, 1978). One reason social context is so consequential [...] is that it selectively directs individuals' attention to certain information, making that information more salient and thereby increasing its impact on their expectations about and interpretations of both their own behavior and others' behavior.
In this spirit, let us explore how dysphoric self-consciousness increases our susceptibility to the hostile attribution bias and tendency to engage in paranoid cognition.
Dysphoric Self-Consciousness
Roderick Kramer (1998) developed a theoretical model of paranoid cognition emphasizing the role that dysphoric self-consciousness plays in setting the occasion for behaviors associated with paranoid cognition. He defines dysphoric self-consciousness as “an aversive form of heightened public self-consciousness characterized by the feeling that one is under intense evaluative scrutiny.” Stated another way, it is the unpleasant sensation that people are watching and judging you harshly. These feelings prompt us to engage in “spontaneous attributional search” aimed at identifying the reasons why we feel self-conscious. In essence, if one is self-conscious, then someone must be watching; if someone is watching, then something is possibly amiss (Kramer, 1998; Tone & Davis, 2012; van Prooijen & van Vugt, 2018).
Kramer (1998) identifies three categories of situational variables that increase probability dysphoric self-consciousness: 1) perceived social distinctiveness, 2) perceived evaluative scrutiny, and 3) uncertainty about one’s social standing within their in-group. First, the perception that one belongs to a social category that is especially distinct from others around them increases the salience of that distinction during social interactions. As a result, persons who belong to distinctive social categories may feel that they “stand out” in a group, be more self-conscious, and overestimate the degree of evaluative scrutiny directed toward them by others. Second, the perception that one is under evaluative scrutiny from others increases the likelihood of dysphoric self-consciousness. This is especially true in social scenarios featuring an imbalance of power, such as the relationship between a worker and their supervisor. Being on the lower end of a power hierarchy increases self-consciousness and unrealistically self-referential interpretations of the behavior of others—particularly those of higher social standing. Finally, when one is unsure or insecure about their social standing within a group, they are more likely to interpret others’ behavior as directed towards them personally, even when competing explanations are readily available.
These three variables increase the likelihood of dysphoric self-consciousness, which then promotes hypervigilance and rumination in an effort to make sense of why one feels self-conscious. Hypervigilance and rumination interact in a circular relationship that can intensify paranoid cognition and behavior. That is, hypervigilance directs attention to more situational cues over which one may ruminate, which in turn may generate increasingly paranoid hypotheses motivating increased vigilance toward the behavior of others. Further, hypervigilance and rumination increase the propensity toward paranoid-like social misperceptions such as 1) the hostile attribution bias, 2) interpreting social interactions as disproportionately directed towards oneself (i.e., self-as-target bias), and 3) exaggerated perceptions of conspiracy by others (Kramer, 1998).
Left unchecked, paranoid cognitions may eventually translate into paranoid behavior, as one’s heightened suspicion of others’ motives and intentions leads them to approach social interactions with distrust, defensiveness, or even hostility. As a consequence, their behavior comes to elicit awkward and disjointed social interactions that reinforce mutual wariness, suspicion and discomfort. That is, one’s paranoid behavior becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy by prompting others to respond in guarded and defensive ways—further enhancing feelings of otherness, perlustration, and insecurity about one’s social standing. As already discussed, these each promote dysphoric self-consciousness, starting the cycle anew (Kramer, 1998).
A Peculiarly Dysphoric People
Mormon culture is rich with persecution narratives and frequently promotes a sense of embattlement. These are found throughout the telling of Mormon history—one the primary ways in which Mormon identity is socialized. It is also found in the frequent emphasis of Mormon peculiarity, presented as a sign of Mormon exceptionalism that also draws ridicule and animosity from the outside world. These prominent narratives encourage Mormon communities to view the outside world as foreign, hostile, and even dangerous. Therefore, Mormons are frequently enculturated with a strong sense of social distinctiveness and a predisposition toward hypervigilance directed toward “Gentiles” outside the Mormon community. Furthermore, the historically tenuous relationship between Mormonism and acceptance into the American mainstream may encourage Mormons to feel unsure and insecure about their standing in broader society.
It is common for Mormons to be encouraged to “let their light so shine” and to “be an example of the believers” to those watching and judging from the outside. Mormons are taught “every member a missionary,” therefore it is their individual duty to favorably represent the Mormon faith through their dress, words, deeds, and even “the light in their eyes.” Members are further encouraged to actively proselytize their faith by bearing testimony, sharing copies of The Book of Mormon, and inviting their non-Mormon acquaintances to church meetings or to meet with the missionaries. These efforts are often met with rejection, which may further reinforce perceptions of social peculiarity and distrust by outsiders. Taken together, Mormons are naturally enculturated to perceive themselves as socially distinct, under evaluative scrutiny, and unsure about their standing among non-Mormon society—all but ensuring the experience of dysphoric self-consciousness when separated from their Mormon community.
However, cultural factors promoting dysphoric self-consciousness are not limited to being a Mormon in Babylon, trying to “live in the world but not of the world.” Mormon communities are arranged in hierarchical structures formalized through callings, ordination, and priesthood offices. The practice of worthiness interviews conducted by one’s ecclesiastical superiors provides a regular reminder of the evaluative scrutiny within one’s own community. This is exacerbated by the many outward indicators of Mormon devotion and orthopraxy whereby members frequently evaluate each other’s faithfulness. These range from the clothes one wears, the food one eats, the entertainment one consumes, the way one speaks, and the frequency and appropriateness with which one performs the duties of being an active member of their Mormon community. Such duties include attending weekly activities and all Sunday services, asking expected questions and giving expected answers in devotional meetings, completing ministering assignments, magnifying one’s calling, serving a mission (for men), getting married to another member in the temple before one is too old, regular temple attendance, and performing personal genealogical research.
Members may also be judged if their frequent social circle includes too many people who do not meet the above signifiers of faithfulness. Add to these the looming spectre of church discipline (with its varying levels of membership restrictions or excommunication) for those who do not adequately perform the evaluative standards for inclusion in the community. All together, Mormon communities are frequently an environment wherein members may feel considerable evaluative scrutiny and uncertainty of their social standing among their Mormon peers.
Other Self-conscious Mormons
Thus far I have focused primarily on devout Latter-day Saints in drawing examples of how the cultural dynamics in Mormon communities may encourage dysphoric self-awareness. However, Mormondom encompasses a broad spectrum of different expressions, of which the Latter-day Saint community merely represents the most prominent grouping. The social dynamics mentioned above apply by varying degrees to non-LDS Mormons, as is also true for the diverse expressions of Mormonism found within the Latter-day Saint community. Progressive Mormons, Jack Mormons, Fundamentalist Mormons (of many varieties), Community of Christ Mormons, exMormons, and many, many more types of Mormons are worth considering. However, we simply do not have the time or space to individually explore the social dynamics within the communities of each of these types of Mormons, nor am I qualified to do so. That said, I do want to briefly consider how Mormon social dynamics may encourage dysphoric self-consciousness and paranoid cognition among exMormons and Fundamentalist Mormons (principally those in closest relation to the Nelson-led LDS community).
ExMormon Dysphoria
ExMormons often express feelings of dysphoric self-consciousness, particularly if they have devout Mormon relatives or live in predominantly Mormon locations. Frequently, exMormons will express perceptions of intense scrutiny from their devout Mormon acquaintances or relatives, feeling like their behavior, happiness, or general prosperity are continually being evaluated. For those living in Mormon-dense areas or with predominantly Mormon familial relations, acute feelings of social distinctiveness are commonly expressed. This may be compounded with considerable uncertainty and insecurity regarding one’s social status in their Mormon-dominated social environment, especially when their faith transition is relatively fresh. All of these factors combine to increase the likelihood that exMormons will experience dysphoric self-consciousness in their social interactions with other Mormons, increasing susceptibility to the hostile attribution bias, self-as-target bias, and perhaps exaggerated perceptions of conspiracy. These may manifest as exMormons interpreting the behavior of their devout Mormon relatives or acquaintances with heightened suspicion, seeing ulterior motives behind innocent social interactions, and perhaps imagining that the Ward Council is conspiring to manipulate them back into the fold.
Furthermore, many exMormons were fully socialized into their former Mormon communities before their disaffection. Consequently, their loss in belief or commitment to Mormonism may not disabuse them of the lingering impact of their enculturation into Mormon ways of being, at least not initially. Identifying as neither Mormon nor non-Mormon, exMormons may experience a double portion of perceived social distinctiveness, not quite fitting in with their devout Mormon peers or in the broader “Gentile” world from which they were sheltered. As they test behavioral boundaries previously shaped by Mormonism, they may feel particularly out of place and unsure of themselves.
The degree of this sense of anomie will probably vary for those raised in Mormon-dense areas compared to those raised in “the mission field” or who converted later in life. Nevertheless, they all may find that they have few people to converse with as they continue to deconstruct their former values and beliefs, since their previous community may be hostile to such conversations and their non-Mormon friends may be uninterested or unable to relate. They may find a sympathetic audience in dedicated exMormon communities, where they can discuss their former culture and social transitions together. However, inasmuch as these communities are comprised of people with a largely shared experience of enculturation into Mormondom, the social dynamics in which they were raised sometimes re-express themselves in dedicated exMormon spaces.
Fundamentally Self-Conscious
Fundamentalist Mormons may experience a different set of Mormon social dynamics that promote dysphoric self-consciousness. Many fundamentalist Mormons maintain some relationship with the Nelson-led LDS church, such as attending LDS services, serving LDS missions, or participating in LDS temple rituals. At the same time, they may participate in worship services or doctrinal discussion groups with like-minded fundamentalist Mormons in addition to their involvement with their LDS ward (i.e., they are LDS+). Their fundamentalist beliefs and practices are done primarily in secret, protected from the evaluative scrutiny of their non-fundamentalist LDS peers who may cry apostasy. Such integrated fundamentalist Mormons may feel a sense of social distinctiveness within their LDS communities, shared only by those with whom they interact in fundamentalist spaces.
Other fundamentalist Mormons are more differentiated, having little or no direct engagement with the LDS community and forming distinct groups that function independent of the LDS church. The perception of social distinctiveness may be particularly strong for differentiated fundamentalists. Like the Nelson-led Latter-day Saints, they experience being a Mormon in a broader “Gentile” society, but they also navigate being a differentiated fundamentalist typically living in areas dominated by “Grantite” Latter-day Saints. They are doubly distinct by being not just a peculiar people relative the broader “Gentile” society, but also peculiar within Mormon society. Consequently, they may perceive different forms of evaluative scrutiny from others of Mormon or non-Mormon identity. Finally, differentiated fundamentalist Mormons are often ostracized, particularly in LDS-dominated areas like Utah, which may exacerbate insecurities about one’s status within society. Mormon polygamists, by nature of the illegality of their family relationships, may feel especially sensitive to these dynamics—dramatically enhancing perceptions of external scrutiny, social distinctiveness, and insecurity regarding one’s social status.
In closing, I want to emphasize that Mormondom is a broad and complicated spectrum of Mormon expressions that defies categorization. While I’ve separately talked about Latter-day Saints, exMormons, integrated fundamentalists, and differentiated fundamentalists, none of these are hard categories with clearly delineated boundaries. For instance, how one differentiates between integrated fundamentalists and “orthodox” Latter-day Saints is not at all clear cut, nor would the individuals I’m attempting to describe make these distinctions about themselves. Many arguably “orthodox” Latter-day Saints—including bishops, Relief Society presidents, stake leadership, BYU professors, and general authorities—hold fundamentalist beliefs that their LDS peers would deem heretical. Similarly, while most Mormon polygamists may be described as differentiated fundamentalists, others are fully active and integrated participants in Latter-day Saint congregations. Therefore, do not interpret the discussion above as an attempt to classify different Mormons into their respective boxes, but as an example of how the dynamics of Mormon culture encourage dysphoric self-consciousness in a multitude of ways that differ by degrees for individuals at different points along the Mormon spectrum.
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