One of those things is not like the others.

Religion is, of course, not exempt from corruption or crime. But this combination can also create a temptation to read every religious controversy as though it were a mob file waiting to be cracked open.

That seems to be part of what happened in the Sun-Times’ two recent pieces on Wade Christofferson, the brother of President D. Todd Christofferson. This case is horrifying and newsworthy. The Justice Department says Wade Christofferson was federally charged in late 2025 with attempting to sexually exploit a minor and with coercion and enticement. Prosecutors allege repeated hands-on abuse of an Ohio child, plus separate exploitation and hands-on abuse involving a second child in Utah. The Sun-Times also reported that the alleged abuse underlying the current criminal case did not occur on church property and was not directly tied to church activities. That does not make the case less awful. But it does matter when deciding what kind of story this is.

The outline of the Church’s response, as reported by the Sun-Times itself, is not the outline of an established institutional cover-up. According to the Church’s statement, Wade Christofferson was excommunicated in the mid-1990s over abuse allegations, readmitted in 1997, and D. Todd Christofferson did not learn the specific nature of his brother’s abuse history until around 2020, through family disclosure. The Church also told the Sun-Times that when those older allegations were discussed, the adult victims did not want law enforcement involved, and that when President Christofferson later learned of a recent allegation involving a minor, he immediately reported it to legal authorities. Those facts may still leave room for criticism and painful moral questions. But they do not suggest corruption, cover-up, or scandal. The framing and analogies used by Herguth do the suggesting that the facts do not.

Herguth’s coverage did not mention the research suggesting that The Church of Jesus Christ’s policies, or the research showing their low sexual abuse rates compared to other youth organizations. But he did find time to mention LGBT+ issues and Joseph Smith’s polygamy.

In other words, his coverage treats The Church of Jesus Christ not as a major religious body that helps facilitate faith for millions around the world, but treats it like a mob that should be taken down no matter how relevant or supported the accusations.

But what else would you expect when you assign your organized crime journalist to your religion stories?

Latter-day Saints should not ask to be shielded from scrutiny when children are harmed. This case deserved coverage just as other crime beat stories do. But it also deserves journalistic discipline. The Sun-Times missed the boat here in a way that was predictable and avoidable if they had just assigned the correct reporter.

The post Media Framing in the Wade Christofferson Case appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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By most measures, today’s media-literacy boom has been a public good. Charts from Ad Fontes, ratings from AllSides and Media Bias/Fact Check, “nutrition labels” from NewsGuard, and “blindspot” dashboards from Ground News give ordinary readers quick heuristics for what’s trustworthy and how coverage breaks across left–right lines. In a chaotic information environment, that’s helpful. But these tools also flatten the very thing they’re trying to measure. Bias is not just a point on a horizontal spectrum—often it’s embedded in what gets covered, who gets quoted, and how complexity is collapsed into a single line of copy. When rating services only score overt partisanship and headline-level reliability, they risk missing the blind spots that most shape public understanding. 

A recent essay in the Milwaukee Independent makes a similar point: rating platforms intended to counter spin can end up penalizing outlets that refuse false equivalence, confusing “moral clarity” with “partisan bias.” That critique should ring a bell for anyone who’s ever read a nuanced beat story reduced to a pin on a bias chart. 

Case Study: The AP, a Temple, and the Meaning of “Bigger”

Consider Associated Press coverage of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints’ Lone Mountain Nevada Temple in Las Vegas. An AP dispatch about temple growth asserted that the Lone Mountain temple would be “larger in size than the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris,” with a steeple nearly 200 feet tall. The phrase “larger in size” landed with neighbors—and readers—like a bomb. Larger than Notre Dame? The problem is that the temple is about one-third the size of Notre Dame and one hundred feet shorter. The error comes from a misunderstanding of square footage.  That’s framing bias, not partisan bias—and you won’t find a category for it on most ratings sites.

Case Study: What Wasn’t Said at General Conference

In 2024, AP ran a story on the conference of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints under the headline “Latter-day Saints leader addresses congregants without a word on racial or LGBTQ+ issues.” That piece treated omission—what didn’t happen—as the news. That isn’t a left-right bias, but it is quite obviously a bias nonetheless. 

The author, Hannah Schoenbaum, has no background in religion reporting, but instead covers government, politics, and LGBT+ rights. Six months later, she was still on the same beat, and her coverage of the conference mostly covered political angles. Despite these two incidents, AP still assigned Schoenbaum to the same article for the most recent conference. She was also responsible for the inaccurate Las Vegas Temple coverage.

The bias here isn’t a partisan one; it’s a worldview one. When you assign a political and LGBT+ rights reporter to do religious reporting, what you get are only stories that fit into the narrow lens of the reporter. This headline imports the author’s opinion about what should have been spoken about into a story that was in fact about something entirely different. The headline “Latter-day Saints leader addresses congregants without a word on environmental issues in Asia” is equally as accurate, but manages to convey an entirely different story.

Case Study: Larger than Life Abuse Findings

Similarly, the AP had investigative reporter Michael Rezendes devote significant resources to sex abuse cases within the Church of Jesus Christ.  

Rezendes received a Pulitzer Prize for his reporting about the sex abuse scandals inside the Catholic Church, systemic issues of offending priests being known, covered up, and moved to a new diocese to continue causing harm.

Rezendes’ selection for the assignment communicates certain ideas to the readers: There is a sex abuse problem in the Church of Jesus Christ; it is a problem of significant size and a serious institutional error.

But what Rezendes actually found over the course of several years was that there are some Latter-day Saints who commit sexual abuse (he found three stories), including some of our leaders. They are excommunicated when they are discovered. The Church has a helpline so that local leaders know how to follow complicated disclosure laws. And the Church also tries to provide financial restitution to the victims.

It’s a tragic story, but one about the inevitable tragedy of human frailty rather than institutional cover-ups. 

But by choosing to write long features for stories that would normally be reserved for page-seven crime beats, it communicates that this is news worth paying attention to, which communicates a nefariousness, pervasiveness, or culpability that doesn’t in fact exist in any of the reported cases.

The lasting impression left with many readers was of a sweeping institutional cover-up, even though the stories were ultimately about distinct criminal acts by individuals. That’s a classic scale problem: to what extent does a set of horrific cases justify institutional generalization? Bias checkers don’t score how disciplined news outlets are in attributing scale—but it’s central to how audiences come away thinking about an institution.

And the effects of this bias are serious. The best available evidence suggests that Latter-day Saints commit sexual abuse at rates significantly lower than those of many other faiths or the general population. Our protective factors should be a lesson to others. Instead, a recent survey by YouGov had more people believing that abuse is a “very big problem” in the Church of Jesus Christ, more than in the Southern Baptist churches, despite the fact that Southern Baptist churches had been involved in a systemic controversy covering up sexual abuse, dwarfing in severity the problems in the Church of Jesus Christ.

Is that unfortunate misunderstanding a result of the editorial choices of the Associated Press? Do Americans know less about sexual abuse and where kids are safest because of the Associated Press’ coverage? It’s certainly possible, but it’s not a kind of bias you would be able to identify in the media literacy tools currently available. 

The Bias You’re More Likely to Encounter: Access and Sourcing

Here’s a quieter example. I recently had a wonderful experience with Maggie Penman of The Washington Post. Penman runs “The Optimist,” a column about positive things in the world. 

After the Michigan attack on an LDS chapel, Penman ran a feature about Latter-day Saints raising money for the attacker’s family—an act of grace that surprised many readers. It was a beautiful and generous story. This is why I was surprised to find a quote by a religion scholar at the end of the article attacking Latter-day Saints: he disagreed with them on a doctrinal point. For those within the Latter-day Saint sphere, this attack from this commentator, who is a frequent critic, is unsurprising. What was surprising was that he was included.

What the Checkers Miss

Most popular rating systems do some things well: They reward corrections, penalize serial fabricators, and map partisan lean. However, several endemic newsroom behaviors, including those discussed above, fall outside their frameworks.

None of these is chiefly about “left vs. right.” They’re about habits, networks, and time. 

My intention here is not to call out the media checkers. These are still emerging projects. And media checkers have done incredible work, shining light on real issues and helping to improve media literacy. My hope is to encourage their work. As they are continuing to grow, here are some suggestions of practical metrics that might be tracked and could add to our understanding of media bias:

• Source Diversity Index: Track whether coverage of a community consistently quotes the same one or two academics/activists, or shows range (rank-and-file members, leaders, critics, independent scholars).
• Correction Transparency & Latency: Not just “did they correct,” but how long did it take, and was the core ambiguity addressed?
• Scale Discipline Score: When a story makes institutional claims from individual cases, does it disclose sample size, scope, and limits?
• Beat Maturity Indicator: Tag when a reporter is new to a complex beat and flag when framing changes as literacy improves.

Whatever their flaws, biased tools are still better than the invisible curation of our social feeds, which reward engagement over understanding and routinely amplify the most polarizing takes. And they’re certainly better than the reflexive dismissal of all journalism because of a monolithic, misunderstood “bias.” We want readers to be able to recognize the kinds of bias they actually encounter in the checkers describing them. That work—however halting—beats a world where the only algorithm that matters is the one designed to keep us scrolling.

The post The Biases that Aren’t Measured appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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New York Magazine’s The Cut published a long reported feature yesterday on Latter-day Saints, Utah, influencer culture, and the national appetite for “Mormon aesthetics.” Buried inside it is a serious thesis: Latter-day Saints helped shape key parts of modern online life—tech, genealogy, affiliate marketing, brand deals—and now a particular Utah-flavored influencer ecosystem has gone mainstream.

That subject deserves real cultural journalism. But the feature doesn’t treat Latter-day Saints seriously. It treats a living religious community as a cultural prop: a reliable source of weirdness, a costume rack of eccentric doctrines, and an acceptable target for winking contempt—then layers that tone over doctrinal errors and an over-reliance on critics with little balancing context.

Latter-day Saints do not need the approval of a lifestyle magazine to live out our faith, but there is something wrong when editorial culture still thinks it is acceptable, or even smart, to understand a religion through nothing but memes.

Criticism isn’t the Problem. Contempt Is.

The Church is not above scrutiny. If you want to examine PR strategy, media posture, investments, or Utah’s insular status dynamics, fine—do the work: show receipts and speak with informed believers, scholars, and, where relevant, critics. Latter-day Saints are so accustomed to sneers from legacy outlets that even serious critical coverage can feel like a relief. But this feature does not read like an investigation guided by intellectual curiosity. It reads like something else: a story that wants to be both reported analysis and group roast.

A Publication That Wants Credibility Can’t Cover Faith Like It’s a Freak Show

The clearest tell is the piece’s reliance on outsidery shorthand: familiar “Mormon jokes,” recycled late-night tropes, and online folklore presented as representative. That method is at best lazy, at worst socially corrosive. When a major publication treats the sacred life of its neighbors as a punchline, it is not merely “edgy.” It’s the normalization of contempt for a minority faith.

And to be blunt: there is a reason this kind of tone still shows up with Latter-day Saints more easily than it would with many other religious groups. The feature claims Latter-day Saints now carry real cultural cachet, yet writes as if anti-Mormon mockery is still culturally acceptable. That’s a sign that anti-Mormon mockery is still socially permitted in a way it wouldn’t be for many other minority faiths.

What the Piece Does Well

To be fair, the feature does some real reporting: It paints a vivid picture of a Utah influencer ecosystem; it traces how early Mormon mommy bloggers helped professionalize affiliate marketing and online commerce; it captures how “noncontroversial” family content became brand gold during the pandemic; it correctly notices that Utah’s particular blend of community networks, aspirational domesticity, and entrepreneurial hustle can be an accelerant for online business.

If you want to analyze a community that you believe has exported a powerful cultural product—“Mormon mom” influencer culture—then you also owe that community the baseline respect of accuracy and the basic fairness of being represented by more than its loudest detractors and its most sensational reality TV exports. 

Three Failures that Warrant Post-Publication Changes

The problems in the feature fall into three categories:

1. Factual inaccuracies
2. Statements included for the purpose of mocking Latter-day Saint belief
3. Unchallenged criticisms presented as if they are settled truth

These are not nitpicks. They go to the heart of whether the piece is journalism or polemic.

1) Factual inaccuracies: the kind that shouldn’t survive a competent edit

Some errors are interpretive. These are not. These are statements about what Latter-day Saints believe, teach, or do—asserted in the narrator’s voice—that are wrong, distorted, or presented with such sloppiness that readers are misled.

Here is a catalogue of the most obvious problems:

Doctrinal claims that are misstated or sensationalized

• The piece claims there is a doctrine of spending 1,000 years in “spirit prison.”
• It claims spirit prison is for the “least worthy,” implying a ranked afterlife prison system.
• It calls spirit prison a “temporary hell,” borrowing a loaded popular image that distorts how Latter-day Saints understand the spirit world.
• It states inaccurately that women cannot prophesy in the Church—erasing a long Latter-day Saint teaching about women’s spiritual authority and gifts.

“Worthiness” and church practice presented as caricature

• The piece asserts that for Latter-day Saint women, “worthiness” depends first and foremost on marriage and motherhood. That is an editorial line that reads powerful and condemnatory—and it is misleading. Latter-day Saint worthiness has formal, published standards and interviews; you can critique those standards without inventing new ones.
• It describes bishops’ interviews for youth and lists topics that are not included in the youth interview questions.

Internet folklore treated like representative practice

• The piece presents “soaking” as a way young Mormons can have sex without breaking chastity covenants, treating it like a real, meaningful “loophole” in lived religion. At best, it’s gossip; at worst, it’s a joke inserted because it’s humiliating.

Errors of basic terminology

• The feature confuses temple clothing worn in the temple with temple garments that are first received in the temple and then worn as an everyday religious commitment. That confusion is exactly the kind of thing that happens when a writer is covering a community from the outside and does not slow down to learn the vocabulary.

Sloppy claims about history and demographics

• The piece asserts that Black men could not hold leadership positions before 1978, when what it appears to mean (and should have precisely stated) is that Black men could not be ordained to the priesthood prior to 1978.
• It gives a Utah Latter-day Saint self-identification figure with no clear sourcing, and different from the most widely reported Pew Research figure.
• It reports an incorrect count of temples announced in 2025—again, a checkable detail that signals a lack of verification.
  

[Editor’s Note: New York Magazine has since corrected the final two errors, but declined to fix the other factual mistakes in the piece.]

These are not obscure theological disputes. An understanding reader might handwave these away as honest mistakes or minor points. But these are precisely the kinds of facts that journalists care about (or at least should). The errors suggest an editorial posture of stereotype-driven credulity: if a claim sounds weird enough, it is assumed true, and therefore not worth checking.

Religious reporting is challenging and detail-heavy, which is exactly why careful outlets verify doctrine and terminology with knowledgeable members of the faith and scholars—so the people being described can recognize themselves in the description.

In response to a request for comment about the article’s editorial process, Lauren Starke, head of communications for New York Magazine, replied, “Our writer consulted a wide range of sources with varying perspectives, and the story was carefully reported, edited, and fact-checked.” If so, these varying perspectives and careful reporting did not appear in the final draft of the article. It does not even appear that an in-house religion reporter was consulted. 

2) Mocking statements: the paper trail of contempt

Even if every factual claim were perfect, the piece would still have a problem: it repeatedly deploys editorial asides and framing choices that read as intended to belittle.

A story can have a voice without being cruel. This one is cruel in small, deliberate ways—the kind that accumulates until the reader understands the assignment: these people are weird; feel free to laugh.

Here is a catalogue of the clearest tone cues:

• Opening with a sexual pun as the entry point into “Mormon” Utah: a signal that this community will be handled with a wink, not with care.
• Describing Latter-day Saint beliefs as “zany” in the narrator’s voice—an adjective that invites ridicule rather than understanding.
• Referring to Mormons as “freaks” (even as part of a broader cultural arc). If you want to understand how a community went mainstream, you do not need to label them freakish. That’s not analysis; it’s sneering.
• Casually conflating Latter-day Saints with polygamous shows like “Big Love” or “Sister Wives.”
• Throwing out tangential doctrinal ideas with no purpose beyond making it appear silly, and in a way an average member would not recognize as “what we believe.”
• Bringing up “soaking” as a narrative beat—not because it’s crucial to the thesis, but because it’s humiliating and clickable.
• Referring to church reserves/investments as a “war chest” rather than using neutral language like “savings” or language Latter-day Saints would use themselves such as “rainy day fund.”
• Referring to the most serious source on the church as “a Happy Valley mom who posts educational content about the faith.” While Latter-day Saint women often view their roles as mothers as the most significant, the phrasing here is clearly meant to downplay her professional accomplishments and portray her as a frivolous home vlogger. 

None of this advances the core journalistic purpose. All of it advances a social purpose: to reassure the reader that they are part of the in-group that knows how to roll their eyes at the out-group.

A publication can choose that posture. But it shows they should not be considered a serious, fair-minded journalistic institution.

3) Unchallenged criticisms: letting the loudest critics define the subject

Professional journalists abide by The Society of Professional Journalists’ code of ethics. Or at least they are supposed to. 

One of these codes is to diligently seek subjects of news coverage to allow them to respond to criticism or allegations of wrongdoing. The article fails on this front. According to internal sources who asked to remain anonymous because they were not authorized to speak on the subject, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints was not brought in on the article until late in the process. New York Magazine did not diligently seek out other Latter-day Saint organizations who could respond to the criticisms in the article either. 

Reality television is not ethnography. It selects for spectacle, conflict, and extremity; it is not designed to be representative. Most readers understand that instinctively. But when the subject is Latter-day Saints, that genre literacy seems to vanish: the most sensational export becomes the interpretive key for the whole community.

The feature repeatedly gives critics a runway and does not bother to add context, corrections, or faithful perspectives—especially when describing sacred worship. In over 6,000 words, the article manages to include only a few active Latter-day Saints. Jasmin Rappleye, an experienced content creator with serious doctrinal literacy, was woefully underused as a source—she is given a brief quote about “publicity,” and responds to one allegation that influencers are paid directly by the Church (they’re not). Meanwhile The Real Housewives of Salt Lake City star and frequent church critic Heather Gay is featured in a quarter of the article. 

This is where the piece crosses from “critical” into “polemic”: it grants authority to the sharpest negative descriptions without doing the basic work of hearing from people who actually practice the faith. 

Examples from the article include:

• It repeats “magic underwear” without noting that Latter-day Saints find that label offensive and have asked others to stop using it—something a respectful publication would at least mention if not honor, even if it still determined that underclothing or a religious minority was a proper subject of journalism.
• It presents “community surveillance” as a defining cultural norm without giving ordinary faithful members a chance to explain how they experience community, accountability, and belonging, and push back on the narrative.
• It gives a critic’s description of temple worship designed to make sacred practice sound ridiculous without any counterweight from a believing voice who can explain what temple worship is intended to be and why it matters.
• It allows the Church to be inaccurately labeled “a theocracy”—a term that describes governments, not churches.

The only moment where balance appears is when the writer needed a denial for legal reasons (the clarification about the church paying influencers). Everything else—the theology, the worship, the moral life of millions of people—gets flattened into outsider narration and the commentary of critics.

That isn’t how you cover a religion. It’s how you prosecute one.

The Biggest Omission: Jesus Christ

One might not expect a cultural publication to take our faith in Jesus Christ seriously (though it did identify us correctly as Christians). But if you are writing a cultural article on why Latter-day Saints do what they do, and you do not talk about how we love Jesus Christ and try to follow His example, then you are not telling the full story.

The story turns a Christ-centered faith into an aesthetic, a machine, a brand strategy, and a collection of quirky doctrines for outsiders to gawk at. Readers come away thinking Latter-day Saint life is mainly about branding, surveillance, and monetization. You cannot tell the truth about Latter-day Saints while ignoring its core animating fact. That omission doesn’t just offend believers. It robs readers of the most important explanatory key to the lives of Latter-day Saints.

Why This Matters Beyond “Hurt Feelings”

Some editors respond to criticism like this with a shrug. They determine it is not their job to be the Church’s PR, or they believe that upsetting people means that their hard-hitting coverage landed. 

I am sorry to disappoint you. But it is also not your job to be the PR for Heather Gay, and an article about how a Hulu reality show made people buy sodas with syrup in them is not hard-hitting coverage.

The reason Latter-day Saints don’t like this kind of coverage is because it’s bad. 

And Latter-day Saints have a long history of being treated as something less than fully American—something exotic, suspect, culty, ridiculous, or dangerous. The article tries to say that is over, while making it very clear it is not. 

The story even gestures at historic persecution early on, then proceeds to participate in a softer modern form of the same impulse: they’re weird, so it’s fine to talk about them in a way you would never talk about others.

A fair feature can be sharp and unsparing and still meet standards of fairness and accuracy. If a publication wants to cover religions—especially minority religions it believes are culturally influential—it should meet the minimum bar:

• Get doctrine right or do not summarize doctrine.
• Avoid lazy stereotypes and derogatory tropes.
• Do not turn sacred practice into spectacle for clicks.
• Include the voices of sincere practitioners, not only critics and reality TV proxies.
• When you make an error, correct it publicly.

We invite New York Magazine, The Cut, and the author and editors of this article to make a public apology to Latter-day Saints, and if they don’t remove the article, to at least correct the inaccurate statements and remove the mockery. 

Moving forward, this can be an opportunity for reflection and improvement. 

One of the most frustrating parts of being part of a community that pop culture periodically discovers is the sense that you are never being spoken to—only spoken about. That your real life is invisible behind the versions of you that sell: the cartoon missionary, the “zany belief,” the “magic underwear,” the reality show scandal, the internet rumor, the aesthetic mood board.

Latter-day Saints are not asking to be shielded from critique. We are asking to be treated as fully human and honestly represented.

New York Magazine can do better. But “better” is not a vague aspiration. It starts with the basics: accuracy, fairness, and the humility to admit when a story uses a minority faith as a punchline.

The post The Ethics of Contempt appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Almost immediately, everyone did what everyone always does when “the files” drop: they hunted names, screenshotted fragments, stitched narratives together, and treated the internet like a jury box. But even major outlets covering the release have warned that the dump is chaotic, heavily redacted, and incomplete in ways that make confident conclusions difficult—while victims and advocates have criticized the process for exposing survivors while leaving many alleged enablers opaque.

And yet, even with all that noise, something clear has emerged for Latter-day Saints: this release was a stress test for decades of anti-Mormon conspiracy storytelling—and the conspiracy didn’t show up.

The test conspiracy-peddlers didn’t expect to fail

For a long time, a certain genre of anti-Mormon commentary has insisted on two overlapping claims:

1. That there is a uniquely large, uniquely hidden sexual abuse problem inside The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, driven or protected from the top; and
2. That senior leaders are “globalists” quietly entangled in elite power networks—exactly the kind of networks epitomized by Epstein.

To be plain: there have been horrific abuse cases involving members of the Church, and those cases deserve honest reporting—not dismissal.

But the claim at issue here isn’t “abuse exists” (it does, tragically, in every sizable institution). The claim is that the Church’s top leadership is part of a shadowy sexual corruption on one side, global influence schemes on the other.

If that were true, this was the moment it should have detonated.

Instead, it didn’t.

A worldwide net—and nothing where critics promised a catch

The whole point of an Epstein document dump, in the public imagination, is that it catches people from “all kinds of quarters.” And it has: major coverage has focused on public figures, political operators, and celebrity relationships; the whole world is sifting and speculating.

So what about the Church? Where are the receipts that a certain corner of the internet has promised for years?

In the Utah-adjacent reporting that’s surfaced from the latest release, the most concrete “Mormon-world” items being discussed are mundane and geographically local—things like travel notes involving Park City, and paying a likely victim’s tuition for Brigham Young University–Idaho, and someone writing to Epstein mentioned Elder Dale G. Renlund was presenting at a health conference.

If you tell the world for decades that senior Church leaders are entangled in the very elite sexual machinery the Epstein story represents, then the largest public release of Epstein-related material should show it. Instead, it shows, at most, the kind of peripheral, often banal “Utah shows up in a massive dataset” traces you’d expect when you dump millions of pages spanning years and continents.

The “most damning” line—and why it still doesn’t land

Critics have understandably tried to elevate a single muddled excerpt—circulating online from an email labeled “EFTA02437604”—as the long-awaited smoking gun. In that excerpt, Epstein appears to write (in a typo-riddled sentence) about “wayne owens … from utah,” references “pons and cold fusion,” and includes the phrase “had [to/ot] meet with the head of the mormon church.”

Epstein suggested in 2009 that in 1989, when he argued against funding cold fusion research, he met with the “head of the mormon church,” presumably because such funding would have gone to Utah.  

No name for who he meant. The memory is twenty years old. Not even a claim that the meeting was desired by church leaders. And the topic was mundane decades before Epstein’s sexual abuse networks were known. 

I imagine some will attempt to squeeze continued criticism out of the line. But what we have been promised by the anti-Mormon conspiracists for years clearly did not exist. In fact, the Church and its leaders have remained so clear of Epstein and its associates that it should broadly be seen as a positive for their moral character. 

Why this should change the conversation—on both sides

If you’re a critic, this moment is an invitation to intellectual honesty. The Epstein files—massive, messy, and full of all kinds of names—were supposed to be the hammer blow. Instead, they have not delivered what the most confident anti-Mormon allegations promised.

And if you’re a believer, this moment is not an excuse for a victory lap. There are real victims who must remain the focus of care and attention. And remember, the data remains partial and contested. We shouldn’t claim this means more than it does. 

The Epstein files—whatever else one thinks about this sprawling, troubled, often infuriating release—have provided a rare public opportunity to compare conspiracy claims against a truly enormous body of material. And when it comes to the most sensational anti-Mormon accusations about senior Church leaders—secret globalist schemes, Epstein ties, sexual impropriety—the result is not “finally, we got them.” 

The result is: nothing. At the end of the day, behind all the sturm and drang was just normal people. 

That doesn’t make the Church above scrutiny. We all have much work to do in continuing to help victims in every corner. But perhaps we can now do it based on the truth. It should make everyone—members and critics alike—more reluctant to trade in insinuation when the moral stakes are this high.

The post The Conspiracy That Wasn’t appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Here is the uncomfortable fact: most Americans now get their news from social and video platforms. More than TV. More than news sites and apps. Our public square has been quietly subcontracted to feeds tuned for time‑on‑platform, not truth‑seeking or neighborliness. We feel the cost in our bones—sharper extremism, thinner civility, cultural tribes that shout past each other, rumors that outrun corrections, and a steady undertow of loneliness. Especially for the young, the scroll isn’t just a pastime; it’s the water they swim in.

And the research is stubborn. When people use less social media, they hurt less. In randomized trials, trimming use to about thirty minutes a day lowers loneliness and depression; a one‑week break nudges anxiety down and well‑being up. The gains are modest, yes—but they’re real. Which means the real question isn’t whether less is better. It’s how to make “less” the easy choice for millions of people at once.

If the system is shaping us, then we have to reshape the incentives, its defaults, its hours, its business model. What follows are a few practical legal and social ideas that may help address the raft of negative consequences of social media. 

Refit Section 230: A safe harbor you keep only if you sail safely

Section 230 of the federal Communications Decency Act was built to keep platforms from being sued as the publisher for what users post, and to let the platforms moderate in good faith. Over time the shield has stretched to cover not just hosting speech, but how platforms distribute and rank it. That wasn’t carved into the Constitution; Congress wrote 230, and much of the expansion has come at the hands of well-meaning court rulings. But those court interpretations don’t have the broader picture that a legislature can. Congress can and should update Section 230.

The fix isn’t necessarily to blow up 230. That could invite chaos. But we could make the Section 230 shield conditional on predictable, speech-neutral design choices:

• No immunity for paid placement. Ads and paid “boosts” should live under ordinary tort and consumer protection law, not inside 230’s blanket.
• Narrow protection for risky amplification. When a recommender system actively pushes content, immunity shouldn’t apply. That’s an editorial decision, regardless of whether it is made by an algorithm or not. 
• Reasonable design and transparency to keep the shield. Think chronological feeds and overnight quiet hours for minors by default, documented age assurance, and researcher access to basic risk metrics.

Why this matters: today’s largest platforms depend on two things—paid targeting and opaque, engagement‑maximizing ranking. If paid boosts lose 230’s protection, and if default friction becomes the price of immunity, the business math changes. Lawsuits won’t swallow the internet; the First Amendment still limits claims. But the near‑automatic shield over product design would no longer be unconditional.

Section 230 was created specifically to give internet platforms legal protections that don’t apply to other publishers. And without those additional protections, the social media regime that exists today could not survive, all without implicating the First Amendment even a little bit. 

Starve the Surveillance Ad Engine

Engagement‑hungry design exists because surveillance targeting is so profitable. If we limit the precision and persistence of tracking, then time on social media becomes less lucrative, and the perverse incentives drop. 

Europe is already proving the point: the Digital Services Act bans targeted ads to minors and profiling‑based ads that use sensitive data. Enforcement has forced real product changes (LinkedIn has already disabled a targeting tool in Europe). A U.S. version can go further while staying speech‑neutral.

A clean U.S. starting point is already on the books in California. The 2023 Delete Act (SB 362) requires the state to launch a single portal—DROP—by Jan. 1, 2026. Beginning Aug. 1, 2026, data brokers must check the portal at least every 45 days and purge the personal data of anyone who files a deletion request. If we were to adopt that same one-click ease to delete data across US states, we could start to see a big change.

Pairing data deletion with federal bans on both targeted ads to minors and the use of sensitive data for ad targeting, you drain much of the oxygen from engagement‑hungry feeds without restricting anyone’s speech.

When the ROI on hyper‑personalized ads falls, investors and product teams shift: calmer, subscription‑leaning models look better; contextual ads regain ground; feeds lose pressure to maximize time‑on‑platform at all hours. 

It’s not the advertising that is causing social media’s problems; it is the advertising that provides the funding that incentivizes social media platforms to cause problems and drag their consumers back over and over again, profiting off our worst instincts. 

Make Healthy Design the Default

Certain default settings make it extraordinarily easy to draw people back in. And without limiting individuals’ ability to use those settings if they prefer, we can pass simple laws requiring that interface defaults be high friction. For example: 

• Forwarding limits. WhatsApp’s cap on forwarding already‑viral messages to a single chat produced a 70% drop in “highly forwarded” messages. 
• Autoplay off. A randomized study of Netflix users found that disabling autoplay reduced session length and total watching. Autoplay is a sticky design pattern; switching it off by default trims use without banning anything.
• Default chronological feeds and overnight quiet hours for minors. New York’s SAFE for Kids Act now bars algorithmic feeds for minors unless parents opt in, and blocks notifications between midnight and 6 a.m. The proposed rules detail how to verify age and consent. 

States could experiment with these rules, or Congress could nationalize these defaults by giving the FTC clear authority—building on its consumer protection powers—to set baseline attention‑safety standards for large platforms, especially for minors. This is still a far cry from having a large Surgeon General’s Warning each time you log into Instagram that says, “Social Media has been shown to lead to anxiety, depression, and loneliness.” But if we can’t make smaller changes to reverse this trend, that might be precisely what is needed.

These small design decisions bend millions of daily personal choices, without taking the choices away from the consumers. 

Make “Offline” the Default

There’s a fourth way to curb our dependence on social media that doesn’t require a single new statute: change what our institutions expect of us. When schools, workplaces, congregations, and community spaces set better defaults, people spend less time in the feed—because the offline choice becomes the easy choice. It’s culture. And culture often moves faster than law.

Schools can reclaim the school day with phone‑free policies—pouches or lockers, with clear exceptions for emergencies. Pair that with analog alternatives (board‑game tables, open gyms, music rooms, maker spaces) so lunch provides the engagement without the screen time.

What is more durable than individual resolve is rituals. Congregations and faith groups can play a key role in helping de-escalate. For example, in 2018, President Russell M. Nelson invited Latter‑day Saint youth to a seven‑day social‑media fast, and later invited women to try ten days—framing abstention as a joyful reset of attention and purpose. Any congregation, club, or neighborhood can copy the pattern: announce a time‑bound fast, fill the gap with service and fellowship. These groups can also fill in the desire for connection that so often feeds the most unhealthy social media habits. 

“Third places”—places where you are allowed to exist without paying money—have seen a precipitous drop off. Often the easiest and most comfortable of these places are online. Not only can more congregational connection help this, other groups such as libraries and parks can find ways to engage, especially young people. And might I suggest the ancient and still relevant practice of breaking bread with one another face-to-face.

Less social media won’t come from one heroic law. It will come from a hundred ordinary decisions—repeated until they feel like the way things have always been. That’s culture, and ultimately it is what will help us turn around. 

Hard questions, honest answers

Skeptics will argue that these proposals flirt with censorship, invite doomed lawsuits, or amount to cosmetic fixes. It’s true that free speech doctrine sharply limits what states can do, and that even without Section 230, many claims will still fail on First Amendment or causation grounds. It’s also true that warning labels and nudges alone rarely change behavior. Those cautions matter.

But the core of my suggestions are different. It doesn’t tell platforms what they must carry or suppress. It focuses on distribution mechanics, ads, data, and design—areas where Congress clearly has authority to condition immunity or regulate trade practices in content‑neutral ways. And the record shows that friction rules do more than signal: forwarding caps have slashed virality, autoplay‑off trims viewing time, and randomized trials confirm that short breaks improve well‑being. These changes may not solve everything, but they move the needle in measurable, constitutional ways.

If we want less misinformation, fewer extremism incentives, better privacy, and less loneliness, we should stop pretending a perfectly disciplined thumb is the answer. Make healthier design the default. Our social media death spiral was created by our culture. And if we want to address it, we need to find a way to change that culture. Perhaps that will happen through laws to change the incentives. Perhaps it will take going after the culture itself. Now is not the time to wait for perfect answers. It’s time to start trying things. 

The post Less Feed, More Life appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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The religious right is in a crisis of discernment.

Following Charlie Kirk’s assassination in September, many religious conservatives began to ask “What now?” Kirk had been a unifying voice and a coalition builder. With his Turning Point USA organization, Kirk brought together diverse voices to advance Christian conservatism. An evangelical Christian himself, Kirk assembled a team of Catholics, Jews, Latter-day Saints, and others to promote the cause. He reached and mentored racial and sexual minorities who might otherwise avoid the conservative movement, as Amir Odom explained in a viral video after Kirk’s death.

But lacking Kirk’s unifying force, the conservative movement has fractured along political fault lines that were already emerging. Now, the fault lines have become much deeper and more public, particularly between conservatives who believe in the U.S. constitution versus Christian Nationalists who seek an authoritarian Christian ruler instead of our often-contentious pluralistic political system.

Commentator Tucker Carlson has also cultivated disillusionment with the Constitution and free society. In a recent commentary on Venezuela prior to the arrest of Nicolás Maduro, Carlson followed a similar pattern he has in the past: he identifies a country under an authoritarian regime, then suggests to his viewers that everything you have been told is wrong.

Carlson said of Venezuela: “Nicolás Maduro and his government are very left wing on economics, not on social policy, by the way, which is kind of interesting. In Venezuela, gay marriage is banned. Abortion is banned. Sex changes for transgenderism are banned.”

“And by the way, the U.S. backed opposition leader who would take Maduro’s place if he were taken out is, of course, pretty eager to get gay marriage in Venezuela,” he adds.

Again, the pattern is to look at a regime that is oppressive, illiberal, and in conflict with the United States. Then, make the case to Americans that we have been deceived about that country: Show viewers that in that authoritarian-ruled country, good things are happening that are not happening in free Western societies.

In the case of Venezuela, Carlson’s hinting that authoritarian socialism has enabled the implementation of conservative social policies around marriage and gender that should be the envy of the American right.

The effect of this commentary is to leave viewers thinking “I’ve been deceived by elites. People and governments I’ve been told are bad, are in fact benign or even good. Up is down, and down is up.”

The unstated message is “trust me to be your new guide to reality.”

I recently saw the outcome of this commentary in a response to one of my social media posts on Tucker Carlson, as a commenter admitted Carlson was “the only journalist I trust to do real journalism.”

Tucker Carlson’s message appeals, in part, because he is often correct in cases where prominent people and institutions are wrong. After Carlson was accused of promoting a “great replacement conspiracy theory” in 2023, the Biden administration allowed a massive influx of immigration and resettlement using federal dollars, under an expansion of the notion of “humanitarian parole”.

Around that same time, Carlson began warning that Joe Biden was in cognitive decline and the executive branch was being run by staffers and presidential advisors — predating revelations near the end of Biden’s term about the full extent of decline that had been covered up.

A good lesson for critics is this: if you think it is important to limit the influence of a commentator like Tucker Carlson, the worst thing you can do is give people legitimate reasons to believe he is right and he is presenting a more accurate picture of reality than you are.

Anytime a commentator is spending most of their time negating, disrupting, deconstructing, and telling you “everything you’ve been told is wrong,” they are destabilizing.

Of course, there are times and situations where that mental toolset is appropriate. But when it becomes compulsive, when it becomes a person’s constant default approach to the world, that person is showing you that something awful is going on inside.

When asked more about KGB strategies of subversion, Bezmenov described being instructed to “try to get into large circulation, established conservative media, reach filthy rich movie makers, intellectuals, so-called academic circles. Cynical, egocentric people who can look into your eyes with angelic expression and tell you a lie.”

“These are the most recruitable people: people who lack moral principles, who are either too greedy or suffer from self-importance. They feel that they matter a lot.”

None of this is to suggest that Tucker Carlson and other right-leaning influencers are somehow doing the bidding of Russia. What I am highlighting, however, is that our adversaries have been very open about their intentions to destabilize our society, and whether consciously or not, many of our influencers follow the patterns that these open enemies employ to undermine our social fabric and our institutions.

Tucker Carlson’s efforts to upend conventional wisdom have led him to moral inversion, where he condemns Israel for its campaign against Hamas, but is only able to muster morally ambiguous commentary about Russia’s rampage in Ukraine.

Recently, his criticisms of Israel have turned into something resembling obsession, and in a recent episode of his show, he and a guest suggested that the COVID virus was engineered to have a lower impact upon Jews.

This downward spiral of antisemitism on his show was on full display with the recent guest appearance of Nick Fuentes, a commentator distinguished by his open admiration of Hitler (and Stalin), as well as countless examples of vile remarks toward women and minorities.

And here we find the crisis of discernment on the right, particularly among the religious right. In the coalition that Charlie Kirk formed, there are people who hold conservative and even extreme-right positions on issues like immigration or foreign policy. Not all of these people have a Christian worldview, including a Christian understanding of Israel and its biblically-described role in the world.

Many people on the right feel deeply disillusioned by the failures of our institutions, even ones that are trusted to promote a conservative vision for America. Figures like Tucker Carlson and Candace Owens step in and validate people’s sense of disillusionment. They throw gasoline on the fire by leading their viewers into some mixture of true narratives intermixed with cynical conspiracy mongering.

In this way, they offer a constant stream of destabilizing commentary, steadily removing the mental guardrails of their audiences and cultivating a new receptivity toward extreme and morally-inverted viewpoints.

Standing against this process are Christian commentators like Catholic professor Robert George and the evangelical leadership of the Christian satire site The Babylon Bee, as well as other commentators like Ben Shapiro, who is Jewish.

In my view, only a genuinely religious understanding of the world can guard against the pull of authoritarianism that finds so much appeal in a destabilized soul. A believer can see that destabilizing a mind with constant narratives of “everything they tell you is wrong” is the exact process employed in graduate schools to indoctrinate postmodernism and modern flavors of Marxism.

Whereas Christ fasted and prayed in the wilderness and ended up spiritually grounded enough to reject the temptation to power, destabilization is the exact opposite process, preparing souls to accept the lie that power is the only pursuit of real value.

The electoral success of Charlie Kirk’s coalition has been remarkable, and a cause for celebration on the right. But now there is a harder process ahead. The problems facing America’s religious right are spiritual in nature, and they require the teaching and practice of humble and searching discernment.

The post The Most Corrosive Claim in American Politics: “Everything You’ve Been Told Is Wrong” appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Americans have always been divided over politics, but the divide seems to be getting worse.  Members of the two major political parties overwhelmingly see members of the other party as “immoral” and “dishonest,” according to Pew Research. Approximately 11% of Americans are less likely to support a topic if they think there is bipartisan support for it, a YouGov poll found. For at least 11% of the electorate, not letting the other guy win is more important than winning.

But focusing on the statistics of divisiveness too much can obscure a different truth: Americans are not as divided as they seem. In fact, there is near consensus among Americans on a range of important political issues. Americans need to begin to see the political spectrum not as two sides split down the middle, but as a large block of consensus with extreme ideas at the ends of the opinion spectrum. Approaching political controversies from a perspective of unity rather than division is the first step to resolve the urgent political challenges we face today.

Media biases are well documented by groups like Ad Fontes and others that study media biases. Many modern media conglomerates combine incomplete facts with biases to present a cultivated reality, as several organizations have shown. When outlets are so skewed, the citizenry splits. 

President Dallin H. Oaks has also spoken of the dangers of division. In a 2023 address at the University of Virginia, he observed, “Extreme voices influence popular opinion, but they polarize and sow resentment as they seek to dominate their opponents and achieve absolute victory. Such outcomes are rarely sustainable or even attainable, and they are never preferable to living together in mutual understanding and peace.”

The result of this manufactured contention is division among Americans. Pew’s repeated values index shows the share of Americans at the ideological “tails” of the political spectrum roughly doubled from 1994 to the mid-2010s, with shrinking overlap between parties. The public is sorted more by party identity and values than in the 1990s, people feel colder toward the out-party than before, and elected officials vote in more unified, polarized blocs. Not only are politicians unwilling to work to achieve bipartisan successes, but prominent political leaders and media demonize their opponents.

In contrast, President Russell M. Nelson repeatedly called upon us to be peacemakers:

“Too many pundits, politicians, entertainers, and other influencers throw insults constantly. I am greatly concerned that so many people seem to believe that it is completely acceptable to condemn, malign, and vilify anyone who does not agree with them. Many seem eager to damage another’s reputation with pathetic and pithy barbs!  . . . Anger never persuades. Hostility builds no one. Contention never leads to inspired solutions.”

Are Americans really as divided on the issues as we are led to believe? No! Though this may come as a surprise, there is unity and consensus in America if we are willing to look for it. Some of the hottest political topics this year enjoy agreement from the overwhelming majority of the country. For example, 91% of Americans agree that protecting the right to vote is “extremely important,” according to a recent YouGov poll. Americans also overwhelmingly agree on establishing terms limits for Congress, capping annual out-of-pocket costs for prescription drugs, increasing federal funding to improve cybersecurity, and many other issues.

In spite of broad agreement among the electorate, political topics are often politicized, and the electorate and its representatives become divided. Yet the majority of both major parties agree on at least 109 policy proposals, according to a recent YouGov poll. In many cases the government actively works against the will of the people by neglecting this consensus.

A few examples of the 109 areas of agreement include:

• Increasing federal funding for public school accommodations for students with disabilities. Approximately 86% of respondents agreed federal funding should be increased for schools to support students with disabilities. This is a consensus opinion. Those who disagree are on the fringe on the topic.
• Requiring presidential candidates to take cognitive exams and disclose the results. 80% of all respondents think there should be a cognitive exam given to presidential candidates and those results be published before a candidate can be elected. That is a massive consensus.
• Increasing funding for the maintenance of national parks. 80% of respondents agreed that the federal government should spend more on national parks. The value of such parks is recognized globally and Americans overwhelmingly want their parks protected.

Areas of agreement exist for even the most controversial topics, such as abortion. For example, ninety-two percent of Americans agree that abortions should be legal in at least some cases. On the other side, seventy percent agree that elective abortions should not be legal in the third trimester. This consensus could be the beginning point of more productive discussions about preventing and regulating abortion. 

If there is common ground on abortion, there is common ground everywhere. On nearly every political issue, points of common acceptance and understanding can instigate paths to consensus solutions.

To be sure, we will not be able to resolve all political challenges in ways that make everyone happy. But that does not absolve us of our obligation to make a good-faith effort to find inspired solutions. President Oaks said, “As a practical basis for co-existence, we should accept the reality that we are fellow citizens who need each other. This requires us to accept some laws we dislike, and to live peacefully with some persons whose values differ from our own. Amid such inevitable differences, we should make every effort to understand the experiences and concerns of others, especially when they differ from our own.”

As followers of Jesus Christ, we can follow the counsel of our modern prophets as well as the example of our Savior, Jesus Christ. We start by respecting those around us and seeing them as our fellow brothers and sisters, in spite of their political positions. Satan seeks to divide us using geographical, societal, and political divisions to inspire disharmony. Rejecting labels placed on others for political reasons helps us to see situations—and others—more clearly.

True study of the issues, challenges, and potential solutions will drive us to open our minds and recognize what we have in common both as citizens and as children of God. The General Handbook of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints  teaches us to “seek out and share only credible, reliable, and factual sources of information.” Following this counsel will naturally drive us to limit polarized sources and seek out real truth, which likely requires engaging multiple perspectives and opening our minds to accept truth when we see it. When we start from the assumption that there is common ground, we can break free from the bifurcated political landscape in which we live.

“We urge you to spend the time needed to become informed about the issues and candidates you will be considering. Some principles compatible with the gospel may be found in various political parties, and members should seek candidates who best embody those principles. Members should also study candidates carefully and vote for those who have demonstrated integrity, compassion, and service to others, regardless of party affiliation. Merely voting a straight ticket or voting based on “tradition” without careful study of candidates and their positions on important issues is a threat to democracy and inconsistent with revealed standards (see Doctrine and Covenants 98:10). Information on candidates is available through the internet, debates, and other sources.”

Leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ have delivered repeated prophetic counsel. Our duty as followers of Jesus Christ is to actively fulfill it by becoming peacemakers. So the next time you find yourself feeling outrage or contempt for what “they” think or do, remember: you probably agree with them on a lot of issues. The divide may not be as wide as you imagine. If we’re willing to look, perhaps we’ll find that “they” are standing right next to “us” on some important political topics. Peacemaking starts by rejecting the voices that look to divide us, recognizing what we already have in common, and building from there.

The post We’re Not All That Divided: The Myth of a Nation Split in Half appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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In an era marked by rapid information flow, deep polarization, and an often shallow engagement with religion in the media, the year 2025 finds members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints at a crossroads of faith and public discourse. Members of the Church believe truths that are not only foundational to our eternal salvation but also deeply relevant to how we interact with our neighbors and society at large.

Yet as digital platforms expand and multiply, the representation of our faith in the public square often lags behind reality, too frequently reduced to caricatures or superficial narratives. In this context, publications like Public Square Magazine—which expressly seek “to convene, encourage, and support voices of conscience and conviction”—play an important role in elevating discourse and correcting widespread misunderstandings about the Church.  

The Challenge to Journalism

Too much of today’s journalism treats religion as a fringe footnote—a subject for stereotype rather than serious engagement, especially when covering faiths that fall outside the mainstream Christian tradition. In 2025, this problem persists. Many news outlets repeat sensational claims about Latter-day Saint culture or internal governance without providing historical context, doctrinal clarity, or the lived reality of millions of believing Saints.

This is not an occasional problem—it’s a pattern with depictions of religion in the media. Headlines about Latter-day Saint temples, doctrinal practice, or cultural norms frequently prioritize spectacle over substance. This journalism feeds misunderstanding. It substitutes caricature for context and leaves readers—both Latter-day Saints and those not as familiar—with a distorted sense of who we are. We must demand better: journalism that illuminates rather than obscures.

Interest in Latter-day Saints in Streaming and Public Culture

Another notable phenomenon of 2025 is the significant interest among Latter-day Saints in streaming media and cultural content that bears on faith and identity. From documentaries exploring religious history to series that touch on moral complexity, many Latter-day Saints—especially younger generations—are engaging with visual media as a primary window on the world.

This trend presents both opportunity and risk. On one hand, engaging with culture through streaming services allows members to see diverse perspectives and draw connections between gospel principles and contemporary issues. On the other hand, without discernment, it’s easy to absorb narratives that are sensational, misleading, or simply indifferent to spiritual realities.

As Latter-day Saints, our engagement should be thoughtful. We should seek media that challenge us to grow in compassion, strengthen our testimony of Christ, and equip us to serve others rather than fostering cynicism or division. In this, we can borrow from the aims of Public Square Magazine: to promote dialogue that is “persuasive, honest, and research-based,” and not merely provocative.  

Toward a Better Public Conversation

What does better journalism look like? It begins with curiosity rather than assumption. It respects believers as whole persons, not caricatures. It treats doctrine with attention to official sources and authentic voices, not secondhand interpretation. And it acknowledges the complexity of human experience, including the sincere devotion and enduring faith of millions of Latter-day Saints worldwide.

Faith Calls Us to Engagement

Ultimately, our faith doesn’t retreat from the world—it engages it with hope. In a world hungry for meaning, the gospel of Jesus Christ offers answers that resonate across boundaries: forgiveness, purpose, community, and eternal perspective.

For those who are members of The Church of Jesus Christ, our calling is twofold:

1. Live with integrity. Let our actions reflect our beliefs, showing Christlike love in every setting.
2. Speak with clarity and charity. When we see incorrect or incomplete information about our faith, we should correct it gently but confidently, rooted in truth and humility.

In doing so, we contribute to a public square where faith is not marginalized but understood, where journalism does not sacrifice accuracy for sensationalism, and where every reader—Latter-day Saint or not—can walk away with a clearer picture of one of the most dynamic religious movements in the world.

In 2026 and beyond, let us strive for a public discourse that honors both truth and dignity—for in Christ’s gospel, both are inseparable.

The post A Clarion Call to Truth: Faith, Journalism, and the Public Square in 2025 appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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The Wall Street Journal used to know the difference between covering a faith and staging it. In “‘Exmo’ Influencers Mount a TikTok War Against the Mormon Church,” that line isn’t blurred—it’s crossed. The piece does more than report on critics of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter‑day Saints; it puts their reenactments front and center, including a posed photo of an ex‑member wearing sacred temple clothing and descriptions that turn baptisms, initiations, and other temple rites into shareable spectacle. What is sacred is not content. And when a national newspaper treats it that way, it isn’t tough reporting—it’s trespass dressed up as journalism.

The Journal even said so when a boundary was breached elsewhere. In 2022, an Israeli TV reporter snuck into Mecca, a city non‑Muslims are forbidden to enter. The Journal’s opinion page ran the headline “Mecca Rules Are Up to Muslims” with the sub‑line that a “reckless Israeli journalist” had put others at risk. Another column debated whether Mecca should ever be opened to non‑Muslims (“Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman Should Open Mecca”), and a third reflected on rare, leadership‑sanctioned exceptions (“The Secret Mission to Sneak Into Mecca”). The throughline wasn’t hard to miss: Mecca’s boundary is real, and crossing it isn’t a media stunt—it’s a violation. Respect for sacred limits isn’t a parochial ask; it’s a newsroom norm.

Now look back at the Journal’s Latter‑day Saint story. It spotlights ex‑members who re‑create or display elements from temple worship that practicing Latter‑day Saints treat as sacred and private. A decade ago, when the Church itself chose to explain its temple clothing and asked that the press treat it as other faiths’ vestments are treated, responsible coverage did exactly that—embedding the Church’s own explainer and letting the institution’s visuals carry the story (Church Newsroom; Washington Post story and video). The Journal chose the opposite: a promotional image of an ex‑member in sacred clothing, plus social‑video reenactments. If even HBO—a profit‑minded entertainment brand—apologized for offending believers when Big Love dramatized a temple scene in 2009 (LAT; Reuters), why is a flagship newsroom now lowering the bar?

When reached for comment, a Wall Street Journal spokesperson replied,

“The Journal’s reporting is accurate, fair and meets its established and trusted high standards. The Journal practices ‘no surprises’ journalism. As noted in the article, our reporter was in touch with the church, which declined to comment. We took great care in preparing this story and stand by our reporting.”

The Society of Professional Journalists’ Code of Ethics is unambiguous: provide context; avoid pandering to lurid curiosity; consider cultural differences; minimize harm (SPJ Code). It also cautions that legal access to information is not the same as an ethical justification to publish. You don’t earn trust by telling believers to brace themselves while you stage their sacraments. “No surprises” is not “no standards.”

The Journal insists its story is “accurate, fair,” that it practices “no‑surprises” journalism, that it contacted the Church, and that it “stands by” the reporting. But fairness isn’t a phone call. (Especially one that the Journal reporter has mischaracterized as “no comment.”) It’s the package: headline, art, framing, context. On all four, this piece comes up short. The Journal’s own public standards promise to “fairly present all sides of the story through rigorous, fact‑based reporting” and to uphold “appropriate professional conduct” (WSJ standards overview; Dow Jones Code of Conduct). By any normal test—especially the one the Journal applied when a reporter snuck into Mecca—this isn’t it.

The Wall Street Journal may stand behind their reporting. But they didn’t meet the accepted journalistic standards. They didn’t even meet their own journalistic standards. They acted less like reporters and more like a carnival barker telling the passersby that for the cost of a pageview they can come gawk at a secret religion. 

The Journal once set the curve on restraint. Yesterday it flunked it. On matters of worship, judgment—not just facts—is the test. Here, the Journal didn’t just miss the mark. It moved the line. Pull the piece. Apologize. And then do what the best newsrooms do next: be better than your worst day.

The post Consent not Curiosity: WSJ’s Double Standard on the Sacred appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

But to me, faith and its challenges are neither relics of history nor mere fodder for Hollywood. They became so much more on August 16, when a man broke into my missionary apartment and stabbed my companion and me multiple times in our sleep. We woke up and fought with the man for about 10 minutes, just struggling to preserve our lives. This experience was extremely rare and was so targeted and so unheard of that it was simply unpreventable. Through God’s mercy alone, we were eventually able to call 911 and escape. I sustained 9 stab wounds. I was 19 years old and had been serving as a young missionary for just ten weeks of what was supposed to be an 18-month assignment. My area of service was just north of Houston, Texas, and the COVID-19 pandemic was in full force.

When I look back on that night now over four years later, I view it all as the most sacred night of my life. Every wound, every scream, every breath, every prayer was the making of a miracle and has brought me closer to God than I could ever imagine. However, in my mind’s eye, I can still see and feel the original terror of that night. Blood soaked the carpet and stained the walls like the zombie escape room I did with friends in 11th grade. We were trapped inside our own home fighting for freedom, with one man preying on our sleeping innocence and vulnerability: an eerie parallel to Heretic’s setting. Bleeding out on our floor with a stab through my stomach—my companion with one to her neck—made a striking comparison to Heretic’s ending for the fictional Sister Barnes and Sister Paxton.

I could not have been more mistaken. Although Heretic’s directors and actors showed a marked effort to improve representation in many areas, nothing could justify the targeted emotional and physical consequences that members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could experience from this film. It is almost as if the writers built a trojan horse of happy interviews showing their good faith to build an accurate wardrobe, research the Book of Mormon, and learn missionary lingo, while deep inside the film was an attack that, whether advertently or inadvertently, could significantly harm members, missionaries, and investigators of the faith. They justify and say this is a fictional film, but that’s because they have not heard my story.

From the very first day, I described the physical scene as a real-life horror movie. Many people reached out after my recovery, good-naturedly suggesting that it could be made into a movie someday. But I knew four years ago that something like what I went through should not be made into a movie—at least one could never attempt to show what actually happened in that apartment. I could not imagine anyone else having to see or feel that violence, and I knew the full experience could never be captured. I cringed after returning home when I realized how many people find entertainment in movies with gore and terror every single day. 

Yet, for every captive audience fascinated by horror, there are people around the world who live captive in horror as their reality. Sure, you can say, the movies are just fiction, but Heretic is not a fictional world. The writers and directors, Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, made it off of real life: the lives of righteous, virtuous, hard-working young adults all around the world dedicating themselves to bringing hope and salvation to others. Their mission is to save, and yet this movie, with actual missionary outfits, with their conversations, their name tags, their teachings, and their sacred calling, strikes harm against their message and against missionaries themselves.

Originally, I will admit I was hesitant to speak up about this movie at all because of my proximity to its controversial nature. I resolved long ago that I never wanted my story to be used for anything but a promotion of love and faith in God. After careful consideration though, I do not believe that this runs contrary to that purpose. Since God saved my life, I promised that I would stand for Him with every breath, and I cannot help but feel that He would be weeping to see His precious missionaries portrayed in violence and His sacred doctrine used in the context of horror for entertainment. Add my mission experience to my undergraduate studies and career beginnings in journalism and religious freedom advocacy, and it almost seemed as if God had given me a perfectly tailored background to prepare me to speak up when Heretic was released. 

I know that not all Latter-day Saints or even all missionaries will view Heretic the way I do. It is important to note that the A24 team did make an effort to correctly portray some of the doctrines of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I also have returned missionary friends who feel that Heretic brings new understanding and compassion towards the missionary experience. Acknowledging all of this, my experience has shown that the good does not outweigh the bad in this case, and both the creators and innocent viewers may be completely unaware of what a movie like this could promote.

I read hundreds of reviews praising the acting and the masterful cinematography—and I kept asking myself, where are the people disturbed by Heretic’s message? Where are the believers banding together to push back and promote faith? Where are the watchdogs saying that something about this movie goes a little too far? I thought if I just kept scrolling, I would surely find a wise internet stranger who shared my concerns, yet there was nothing more negative to be found than simply calling the movie ‘slow-paced’ or boring. So, in its absence, I hope in good faith to shed some light and speak here for the other side: to counter the popular narrative and raise a voice for believers, for missionaries, and for the teachings of the Church of Jesus Christ, which I hold sacred.

Hollywood’s Fascination with Latter-day Saints 

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has long been a favorite feature religion of Hollywood. Many have referred to the faith as an easy target, with its mysterious and sensational elements like visiting angels, modern temples, ‘extra scripture,’ sacred underclothing, and even the iconic missionary duo being used to capture an audience. Heretic’s writers are no exception. With this high intrigue, the Church has been held under a very close microscope for the public eye, where Hollywood has managed to portray just about every facet of the Church … except the truth.

Our current prophet, President Russell M. Nelson, has invited “responsible media” to be “sympathetic” in using the correct name of our church, but even these directors and actors who claim to accurately represent the Church have referred to it in slang terms disregarding the religion’s central focus on Jesus Christ. These inaccuracies snowball to simply perpetuate the preexisting stereotypes of misrepresentation, and religious misrepresentation is religious persecution so long as it engenders doubt, disbelief, mistrust, or disrespect toward any religious sect.

Along with such negligent factual errors, the movie’s villain, Mr. Reed, concludes that the underlying factor and the only true form of religion is control. Specifically, misogynistic control. This theme seems to push a very niche concern from former members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, where some attack priesthood leadership or claim, like Mr. Reed, that members are blinded from the Church’s history or accept teachings just because it is what they have been taught throughout their lives by religious authority figures. 

As a practicing adult and covenant woman in the Church of Jesus Christ, I strongly reject this claim. While fully fleshing out a counterargument to this could be an entire article by itself, it is sufficient here to say that I have felt loved and empowered by leaders of both genders within the Church and learned that, although naturally imperfect, they are called by God. This knowledge has come from a witness of the Holy Spirit, which is the only way to find the truth of these things, and yet remains an element completely unaddressed by Heretic’s writers.

It’s about Heresy, not a Heretic

I do not expect everyone to believe as I do, nor do I oppose open discussion if that is Heretic’s intent here. After all, asking questions in pursuit of truth is central to the gospel of Jesus Christ. But the way Heretic raises questions—through displaying violence and disrespecting sacred beliefs—could never create bridges of understanding. It only serves to endanger young, faithful men and women seeking to do good and does so under the guise of “religious dialogue.”

Perhaps the most sacrilegious moment comes when a woman lifts a missionary’s skirt, exposing her temple garment—a private, sacred expression of faith akin to the Muslim hijab or Jewish yarmulke. The film’s creators had no qualms about violating a young woman and this intimate aspect of her belief. 

“First, they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out—because I was not a Jew. Then they came for the communists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a communist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak out for me.”

At its core, Heretic is not just a movie about Latter-day Saints. The film is not concerned with whether the heretic is a missionary leaving their former beliefs or Mr. Reed attacking their traditional religious upbringing because the individual believer or religion was never the main point. No, this movie is not about a heretic at all. It is just about heresy—about promoting disbelief or irreligion—and the most disturbing part is that the actors and directors enjoyed generating this doubt and did so intentionally.

Real Religious Dialogue Will Speak the Truth

As someone who has experienced a very similar reality to what was portrayed, I can confidently say that Heretic completely misses the mark. From the doctrinal attacks to the physical ones, the movie was designed to engender doubt. But I have heard just about every doctrinal argument Mr. Reed raises (trust me, they would be no surprise to real missionaries). I have suffered extreme violence as a missionary that could give me every reason to turn against God. I have had my faith tested and tried, almost to the point of dying for it, but unlike these fictional characters, every one of these experiences proved to build my faith. Beck and Woods thought they were making a movie to question absolute truth—to even question the existence of God—but what they did not know is that they were portraying my path to learn the truth about God with absolute certainty. 

Simply put, what Heretic got wrong is not so much the doctrinal inaccuracies as it is the missed potential that this movie had to finally represent the truth of a path shared by millions of church members and billions of believers all around the world.

Indeed, the truth is that one of the only reasons I survived my own completely unpredictable danger is because my companion remembered and followed instructions we read only the day before in the missionary handbook as part of our routine studies. The truth is that my priesthood leader felt inspired months prior to utter a blessing with minutely specific protections that would save my vital organs. The truth is that any missionary who lay dying would not, like the fictional Sister Paxton, use her last breaths to deny the reality of prayer. The real truth is that God would have never left them as He never left me, and that as I wrestled in the darkness against a force of death greater than I could overcome, I prayed with all the energy of my soul and felt the presence of God save me as clearly as if He were standing before me. 

The truth is that people like Mr. Reed do not win and that God protects and provides, whether in life or in death so that we can witness of His love and mercy.

This is the true story of our faith, the power of belief. The spiritual witness, the miracles, the connection to heaven—this is the real truth of religion, and no attempt to portray members or missionaries is complete without it. This is the opportunity for true religious representation that Heretic lost and that the media misses any time they fear promoting religion or deny its good fruits for lack of tangible evidence.  But if you, like Mr. Reed, are looking for something tangible in your experiment of belief, start with my story. Because I am tangible evidence that tragedy and horror, when fought with Christ, will build faith, not destroy it, and that with true religious dialogue this same story can make anyone a believer, not a heretic.

The post Heretic in Real Life: A Missionary’s True Story of Survival and Faith appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

We love hearing from our readers and feel a sense of responsibility to serve each of you well. If you have questions or comments, don’t hesitate to reach out to us at contact@PublicSquareMag.org. It’s the easiest, most direct way to speak to our editors.

We are Growing a Community

In 2024 Public Square has begun to blossom beyond our articles. We launched our book club and have featured books from some preeminent Latter-day Saint voices. This book club has given our readers the opportunity to better dialogue and to grow our mission of elevating Latter-day Saint voices. Those voices are no longer just found on our editorial pages but in the social media conversations around them.

As our community has grown we’ve had an increased need for approaching moderation. And we’ve received some criticism from those who suggest that we’ve moderated too lightly, allowing content that is critical and factually inaccurate to remain on our pages. For example, after helping to break a major story that the origins of the CES letter, an influential anti-Mormon document, had been substantially misrepresented by its author, some commented on our stories that we were motivated to break this story because the accusations in the letter had never been answered. Though this claim is inaccurate—the substance of the CES letter has been repeatedly and thoroughly debunked—we allowed these claims to stand on our pages. We believe that as our communities have grown, we benefit from the opportunity to recognize and confront these kinds of claims rather than simply moderate them away.

We hope that as we continue to grow, we will be better able to maintain this kind of self-sustaining conversation, which doesn’t require the degree of moderation that is sometimes necessary to prevent smaller communities from being co-opted by outside bad actors.

Ecumenicalism

For the second year in a row we participated with a broad coalition of faiths to celebrate Fidelity Month. Fidelity Month is the vision of Robert George, an occasional contributor to Public Square Magazine.

We also sought inspiration from the larger evangelical movement in comparing our own tradition’s approach trajectory to projects they’ve previously embarked on, such as the seeker-sensitive movement or the no-hell movement.

We have also begun a series celebrating the principles taught in The Family Proclamation in preparation for its thirtieth anniversary. These principles continue to serve as a beacon to those across faiths looking for simple articulations of important truths, and we’ve found enthusiasm among our many religious friends for this series.

Politics and Unity

This year was Public Square Magazine’s second presidential election year. We attempted to build on our work in 2020 while applying the lessons we learned then.

We largely tried to hit this goal by publishing editorials that focused on principles to consider leading up to the election rather than candidates. We strived to promote principles such as temperance, respect for democratic norms, and respect for women and families, among others. Our only article about candidates was a reported piece on how different Latter-day Saints are voting and why, not an editorial urging any direction.

We did receive some criticism for our late decision not to publish any editorials for or against candidates, but we ultimately felt that modeling the kind of unity we would need to find quickly in our wards and Sunday School classes was a better path forward.

Major Controversies

Among the largest stories we covered this year was the film Heretic, a film about a madman torturing two sister missionaries by making them listen to his lectures about atheism, in addition to the psychological and physical abuse they endured at his hands. 

We are particularly proud of our reporting on the story. We secured the script more than five months before its release and had our reporters at the premiere to observe the finished film and gauge reactions to it. 

Our comprehensive coverage of the film and its controversies were among our most widely read articles of the year. 

We also followed a slowly breaking story about the Associated Press’ failure to cover The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints according to their journalistic standards. These failures first appeared in 2023 when usually reliable reporter Michael Rezendes began including sloppy, slapdash conclusions in his articles about the Church. But these failures really revealed themselves in an April article about the subjects church leaders didn’t discuss in the recent General Conference.

They followed this up with an error-ridden article about new temples the Church is working to build in Las Vegas and the Dallas metro area. Despite these mistakes being plain, factual, and repeatedly brought to the attention of AP editors, the article still remains uncorrected.

We expect that this story will continue to develop in 2025.

Perhaps our most controversial story of this year concerned religious garments. The social media reaction to this story was broad and cut in many different directions. We are proud of our authors who helped articulate their faith and decisions, and we are glad that we are able to provide them with an alternative platform since they have been cut out of other coverage on this issue. We are also pleased with how our new moderation approaches have allowed those conversations to flourish on our social media.

Looking Forward

As Public Square Magazine looks forward to its sixth year, we remain committed to fostering a vibrant, respectful, and engaging community for our readers. Our focus will add collaborative projects that amplify meaningful dialogue, strengthen shared values, and build bridges of understanding. We are especially excited to expand our efforts in accessibility, ensuring that our content reaches broader audiences while maintaining the depth and integrity our readers value. From further refining our book club and community initiatives to deepening our partnerships with other contributors, we aim to make our platform even more impactful.

Faithful civil discourse remains at the heart of our mission. In a time of polarization and division, we will continue to strive to model and encourage conversations rooted in mutual respect, curiosity, and a commitment to truth. Inspired by prophetic counsel and guided by enduring principles, we hope to continue creating a space where the complexity of modern issues can be met with compassion and clarity. Thank you for being part of our journey. Here’s to another year of growth and meaningful engagement!

The post Our Year in Review: When Moderation Sparks the Loudest Debate appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

The Associated Press has written another story that highlights criticisms of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints while misleading its readers and omitting the most important facts. 

This latest article was written by Hannah Schoenbaum. This is the same Hannah Schoenbaum who, in response to the April 2024 General Conference of The Church of Jesus Christ, wrote an article about the political issues that weren’t covered. 

That’s right, she wrote about what wasn’t talked about. 

But somehow, the AP’s editors assigned this same reporter to another story about the Church of Jesus Christ, and both she and her editors once again failed even basic journalistic standards.

Not to get too much into the weeds of sentence diagramming. But the article headline is that the temple had a “cool reception in Las Vegas.” The only way to read the “thousands of supporters and vocal opponents” sentence that fits with the headline is that there were at least similar numbers of supporters and opponents. But in fact, while there were thousands of supporters, there were only a few dozen opponents who came to the city’s planning commission meeting. 

The phrasing used here is purposefully misleading. 

City Council Member Francis Allen-Palenske, in whose district the temple will be built, reported that letters she got in favor of the temple outnumbered the opposition 5 to 1. The only other city council member to report was Nancy Brune, who said more than 90% of the mail she got was in favor of the temple. 

In other words, for those who voiced their opinion,  Las Vegas is overwhelmingly in favor of having a second temple of the Church of Jesus Christ in its boundaries.

But the AP’s article goes out of its way to ensure its readers don’t know these facts.

This pattern repeats itself throughout the story. The article reports that those who want to sue to stop the project “insist their concerns have nothing to do with the religious teachings” of the Church, but it fails to report on the frequent online abuse that was directed at Latter-day Saints in the lead-up to the temple. 

In fact, the same people who are now threatening to sue the city had put up an online petition against the temple. In that petition, those leading this opposition movement published “reasons to sign” that included:

• “I’m tired of taxpayer money going to creepy sexist cults.” 
• “WAKE-UP, YOU IGNORANT SO CALLED WORSHIPERS there are a lot better ways to spend your money.”
• “F*** building anything that supports their cause.”
• “The temples of this lunatic cult are an abomination.”
• “LDS are pagans. … They are not Christian in the sense of Christ’s Church.” 

This flagrant religious-based animus was a part of the public advocacy against the temple by those who now claim their concerns aren’t religious in nature. They never removed or repudiated these reasons to oppose the temple. But the AP report fails to include any of them. Reporting the claim that opponents aren’t biased against the Church while withholding this ample and easily available evidence to the contrary is journalistic malpractice. 

But this failure of basic due diligence continues. Perhaps the biggest problem with the article is how many complaints the author of the AP piece gave space for the opponents to make without any factual pushback or context. For example, the report included complaints that the temple will bring traffic without referencing the study completed before approval, which shows traffic will not be negatively affected. 

The report includes concerns that opposition locals are worried the temple will “change the dark-sky environment” but doesn’t mention that the closest designated dark-sky area to the proposed temple is more than two hours away. Nor does the article mention that the new temple’s location already has as much light pollution as downtown San Francisco.

The article reports that neighbors are complaining that the temple will block the view of Lone Mountain without reporting that this complaint is objectively untrue. Because opponents photoshopped misleading images of the temple covering the mountain, city officials went to the trouble of creating elaborate 3-D mockups, which demonstrated that no one’s view of the mountain would be blocked. These mockups are available for inspection but were evidently not consulted by the AP editors who approved this article for publication. 

And look at this deceptive phrasing. The author writes that the temple will be “Larger in size than the Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris.” But to anyone in the neighborhood who looks at the temple, it will be much smaller than the Notre Dame Cathedral. Its on-the-ground footprint will be less than half the size of Notre Dame, and the temple will be more than 100 feet shorter. So, how could the AP justify publishing this claim? Because Notre Dame is one story, and the temple will have three stories, the temple has more usable square feet, the type of measurement a real estate agent would use in selling a house—but an outright misleading claim in the context of how the building will impact the neighborhood. Again, the AP’s editors never bothered to fact-check this spurious claim. 

In a particularly duplicitous turn of phrase, the article’s author describes the area where opponents of the temple come from as “the rural foothills” without providing the context that this rural area is an island within suburban neighborhoods. By saying that the “opponents” of the temple are in the rural neighborhood, the article avoids having to report that the temple itself is outside of the rural zoning area. Why leave that out?

The author cited one homeowner saying he felt “steamrolled” but never mentioned that the Church announced the project’s location years in advance, opened up their own chapel for the homeowners to have a townhall meeting about it, and that according to Allen-Palenske the city had more additional townhall meetings about this project than they’ve had for any other building project. By any objective measure, it’s not the few opposition homeowners who have been steamrolled. Rather, it’s the article’s weak preconceived narrative that is steamrolling the facts on the ground. 

Evidently, the Associated Press believed that each of these complaints was worth reporting on but somehow didn’t believe that any of the context or facts regarding those complaints were worth reporting. I wonder why that is.

The conflict in Las Vegas is not the only part of the story where the AP conspicuously leaves out important context. For example, in Fairview, Texas, the mayor says the town will not be “bullied” by the temple’s proposed height of 159 feet, without mentioning that Fairview had approved a bell tower of 154 feet for the Methodist Church where the mayor’s son is a pastor. (Despite being approved, that tower has not yet been built.) 

To the article’s credit, it does quote leaders of the Church of Jesus Christ, but only in broad terms, never in response to the factually inaccurate or context-free claims it quotes from opposition leaders. In fact, despite the overwhelming majority of local Las Vegas homeowners wanting the temple, the article never quotes one.

When a journalist has a demonstrated inability to objectively cover a religious minority, any responsible outlet would find someone else.

Even if this article was written as an editorial, it would still not meet journalistic standards because of its purposefully misleading statements, but it isn’t even an editorial. It’s pretending to be news—and news for the Associated Press, which holds itself as a standard for objective reporting. Perhaps it’s time for the AP to find a reporter who is capable of upholding their standards in reporting about the Church of Jesus Christ—this isn’t it.

In the meantime, they would do well to retract the misleading report they filed and apologize for the lapses in their editorial process. The 80%+ of engaged Vegas residents who support the temple deserve that much.

The post The Associated Press’ Misleading Narrative on Las Vegas Latter-day Saint Temple appeared first on Public Square Magazine.