Religious prejudice rarely announces itself loudly. And when we look only for open contempt, we can miss most of what is actually causing real harm.
A common approach to this kind of animus is to portray the problem at the group level rather than the individual level. It praises the individual, indicts the group. It admires the neighbor, while distrusting the beliefs. It insists that the people are good, kind, neighborly, hardworking—but then tries to separate the people from the ideas and groups they support so that the ideas and groups can be mocked.
Latter-day Saints are familiar with this trope. It has lasted nearly as long as the Church itself. As one article in Charles Dickens’ Household Words famously put it, “What the Mormons do, seems to be excellent; what they say is mostly nonsense.” Dickens was hardly the last.
That sentiment does a tremendous amount of cultural work. It allows speakers to acknowledge what is obvious to anyone who has met Latter-day Saints—that on average, we’re pretty good folks—while avoiding engagement with any of the beliefs that make us that way. The coworker, quarterback, senator, dentist, babysitter, or in-law may even be exceptional. But the faith itself is framed as a strange defect. It’s something to be smiled at, mocked, or psychoanalyzed.
A new version of this trope is becoming increasingly common and may be worth noticing: Latter-day Saints are great people, but their leaders/church/organization are deeply corrupt.
This can sound sophisticated. It allows speakers to sound like they are supporting people, not institutions. It can even sound compassionate, trying to defend ordinary Latter-day Saints against whatever shadowy authority the story requires. It manages to launder the old bigotries through the language of accountability.
Criticism Is Not the Problem
Latter-day Saints and their institutions should not be exempt from scrutiny. If a business mistreats a customer, investigate. If the police overreach, hold them accountable. If local officials abuse power, expose it.
Latter-day Saints may be pretty good on average, but we have our fair share of ego, corruption, defensiveness, thievery, and all other types of sins.
When Latter-day Saints are good, it’s in spite of their religion, but when they’re evil, it’s because of their religion.
There is a difference between criticism and religious profiling. In 2019, I covered the media response to a voyeurism arrest in Tennessee. I read the coverage of all voyeurism arrests over the previous 18 months; almost none of them made national news. And none of them mentioned the religion of the perpetrator.
But as you might imagine, the Associated Press, Business Insider, The Daily Beast, and even the local newspaper not only mentioned the perpetrator’s religion, but also put it in the title. Why? Well, he was a Latter-day Saint.
This issue has once again reared its head in a story that’s received major national attention. And suddenly many commentators have concluded that because someone is a Latter-day Saint, the problem must stem from corruption of the Church.
A Complicated LEGO Story
The underlying story here is complicated enough without inventing a religious conspiracy.
Bricks & Minifigs has its corporate headquarters in Utah County. It is a second-hand retailer for LEGO bricks.
According to the reporting on the story, an Oregon franchise store, not run by the corporate office, accepted a consignment of Star Wars LEGO sets alleged by supporters to be worth around $200,000, with the agreement that it would sell them and give a portion of the proceeds to the sets’ owners.
While this Oregon store was in possession of these sets, the corporate office took control of the franchise store. When the owners of the LEGO sets returned to get their LEGOs because they had not been sold, the new corporate management said that the consignment had not been authorized. They said they are willing to resolve the matter through proper documentation and lawful channels, but they have not yet done so.
A YouTuber known as “Reckless Ben” decided to investigate the story. He went to American Fork to confront corporate management, then to the local police. The local police declined to intervene, saying it was a civil matter (i.e. the family who consigned the LEGO sets should sue).
Eventually, it was “Reckless Ben” who was charged with a misdemeanor for trying to confront the corporate management.
From my non-lawyer point of view, it seems like the solution is pretty obvious, and from my communications point of view, hanging on to the sets is definitely not worth the legal and PR troubles.
For a company based in Utah County, it may not surprise you to learn that some members of the management are Latter-day Saints.
And pretty soon, because of an implication “Reckless Ben” made in one of his videos, a narrative soon developed that the story was about religious corruption.
The Comments Tell the Story
The language used around the YouTube videos has not been subtle.
One commenter wrote, “The average person that’s LDS have no fault of what’s going on and I do not fault them. But this sect of religion in utah has a literal stranglehold on employment, culture, reputation, and lots of capital.”
Unsurprisingly, this structured complaint quickly returned.
Other commenters complained about “the Mormon mafia” and suggested that Latter-day Saints have the power to silence people. Another claimed that the situation proved “that the Mormon church is now involved with the police department.”
A Reddit commenter concluded that “they’re protecting their own and would probably do this for any other crime they commit.”
“Reckless Ben” is not a professional journalist. But it’s also clear that sloppy coverage resulted in sloppy conclusions that have gone well beyond what he ever intended or implied.
An Old Pattern
Latter-day Saints are not the first group to face this kind of suspicion and bias in the United States. Anti-Catholics did this for generations: Catholics could be good neighbors, but their institutions were suspicious because they were loyal to Rome.
In the nineteenth century, critics would portray Latter-day Saints as mysterious and secretive under the domination of an authoritarian prophet.
Anti-Mormonism has its own version of this logic. In the nineteenth century, critics would portray Latter-day Saints as mysterious and secretive under the domination of an authoritarian prophet. Latter-day Saint belief was not merely doctrinally distinct from other groups; Latter-day Saint institutions were a threat to the American way of life.
And this current trope is a tired descendant of that older suspicion. It might be shined up with modern language. It might use the language of institutions and accountability. But the underlying dynamic, the basic argument, is the same. Latter-day Saints may be good, but when they’re bad it’s their religion’s fault because they are part of a group that is manipulative, corrupt, and dangerous.
Legacy Media Coverage
The blame for this kind of coverage does not end merely with the YouTuber who posted it. These narratives become established because they are nurtured between the lines of news media that should know better.
When the Chicago Sun-Times puts its organized crime reporter on a story about an individual, when the AP assigns its political reporter to cover general conference, when the Washington Post and New York Times do not quote faithful Latter-day Saints in their articles but only church spokespeople, they create a vision of what the Church is.
And it’s all in pursuit of views.
The voyeur story used the name of the Church in the title because that’s what people will click on. They create the prejudice and then profit from it.
The headline, “Possible Police Overreach in Complicated Business Dispute in a Utah-Headquartered Franchise” dies before it hits the newsfeed. The story “Mormon Cops Cover for Mormon Criminals”—well, that sells.
The bottom line is that there is no reason to believe this LEGO story has anything to do with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Every Utah criminal is not, in fact, a window into Latter-day Saint corruption.
