If the first article mapped the terrain of vulnerability, the second this part turns to the work of building protection.

What would it look like to respond proportionately to what the evidence actually shows? If certain patterns repeatedly increase vulnerability, then their opposites ought to must become deliberate priorities. In this section, I outline practical steps—grounded in the research reviewed previously above—that families, faith communities, and civic institutions can take to reduce risk and expand real protection for women and children.

The protection of healthy, genuine faith

In part one, I outlined ways that limited religious community and faith commitment can increase the risk of sexual violence against women. The opposite is also true, with religious affiliation, identification and participation often protective against sexual violence according to studies in various countries. For instance:

• A family’s “affiliation with Christian religious denominations” is “associated with lower risk of physical and sexual violence” in India (Kimuna, et al., 2013). 
• Being a Muslim was “protective from any type” of intimate partner violence” including “sexual and emotional” in the Ivory Coast (Peltzer & Pengpid, 2014). 
• The latter finding is mirrored in an earlier study finding Muslim religion protective against intimate partner violence in six African countries (Alio, et al., 2010).

Beyond affiliation alone, regular church attendance was specifically protective against victimization as well (Lown & Vega, 2001; O’Connor, et al., 2023). Respondents with higher levels of religious involvement in different studies were less likely to report intimate partner victimization (Zavala & Muniz, 2020) -with the latter U.S. research team noting this finding was “consistent with prior studies looking at the relationship between religious beliefs and intimate partner violence.” For instance: 

• “Frequent church attendance” is among the factors “associated with decreased risk of violence” in Filipino homes according to Fehringer & Hindin, 2009—who report “less male perpetration if mothers attended church more often”—in line with other findings, as they say “other research supports a protective effect of church attendance on partner violence.” 
• The same research team observed in a second article that “regular church attendance by the wife” and “regular church attendance by the husband” were both associated with lower risk of perpetrating violence in a marriage (Ansara & Hindin, 2009).
• Fergusson, et al., 1986 highlighted “church attendance” as a significant factor in the frequency of “wife assault” in New Zealand—with the religious attendance of both fathers and mothers making the perpetration of victimization within their relationship less likely. They specifically found that men and women least likely to commit domestic violence were those who participate in services once a month or more are least -followed by those who attend less than monthly.
• In an analysis of U.S. couples two decades ago, Ellison, et al., 1999 likewise reported that “regular attendance at religious services” made domestic violence perpetration less likely. “Both men and women who attend religious services regularly are less likely to commit acts of domestic violence than persons who attend rarely or not at all,” they observed—noting that for men, it was only when they participated weekly that this effect showed up, while women also had a protective effect with monthly attendance. 

Overall, “religiosity does decrease (intimate partner) victimization” report Ellison, et al., 2007 based on a U.S. survey—adding that “religious involvement, specifically church attendance, protects against domestic violence”—a “protective effect,” which they note, is “stronger for African American men and women and for Hispanic men, groups that, for a variety of reasons, experience elevated risk for this type of violence.”

As reflected above, studies show repeatedly that faith participation can prevent both perpetration and victimization. This seems, in part, due to pro-social teachings, avoidance of risky behavior and a sense of higher purpose and meaning.

Victims often described in studies how leaders and fellow congregants helped them get away from earlier abuse and begin to find healing. This is not always true, of course—with certain attitudes held by people of faith sometimes functioning as a barrier to healing and safety. Indeed, another set of studies point towards less healthy religious attitudes that leave women at greater risk for different kinds of abuse.

Conflicting evidence

Even so, the influence of religion is not as simple as described above—with more nuance to consider. Psychological, physical and sexual violence had a “significant association” with evangelical faith in a Brazilian study—with the authors reporting a “33% increase in intimate partner sexual abuse in life in evangelical women, compared to those who do not belong to this group” (Santos, et al., 2020). 

A set of other studies in Africa have also found families who were Muslim at greater risk of victimization (in Ethiopia Agumasie & Bezatu, 2015; in Kenya Ward & Harlow, et al., 2021; in Nigeria Bolarinwa, et al., 2022; in Malawi Forty, 2022). 

How exactly to interpret these and other seemingly contradictory findings is a critical point, something I explore in-depth in my full report. In simple form, not all religiosity is the same, with religious faith that allows men to dominate women, or which does not place serious emphasis on avoiding alcohol or casual sex, putting women (and children) at risk. 

“Misinterpretation of religious beliefs” was cited in a Pakistani analysis of influences on sexual and other kinds of violence at home, with the authors advocating for “public policy informed by correct interpretation of religion” which they said could prompt “a change in prevailing societal norms.”

In addition, there’s also evidence that sincere, “intrinsic” religious practice and conviction among men and women functions as a more powerful protector against sexual violence and other abuse, while more superficial, “extrinsic” religious conviction simply does not. It seems clear that “weak commitment to religion” could be a factor in victimization within a relationship, Vakili, et al., 2010 notes that a “woman and husband’s weak level of religious commitment” in Iran was “significantly associated with an increase in physical, sexual, and psychological abuse.” 

The authors later said that “strong religious beliefs may be instrumental in reducing the likelihood of intimate partner violence among Iranian families” (Vakili, et al., 2010). In the other direction, deeper and more sincere religious conviction shows promising effects—with “religious intensity” associated in another study with a “lower victimization count” (Sabina, et al., 2013). 

Complex, overlapping patterns of vulnerability

While this broad array of variables involved in increasing (or decreasing) the risk for sexual violence can seem overwhelming, I believe it can be invaluable to know that, broadly speaking, women and men who have experienced significant past abuse, who are under heavy current stress and financial pressures and are experiencing compromised faculties, significant conflict and real isolation, are all at much higher risk of future victimization (and perpetration)—especially if they have little awareness about the extent of the risk. 

By contrast, women and men who have been protected from past abuse, who are not facing current heavy stress or compromised faculties, who don’t have significant conflict or isolation, will all be significantly more protected against future victimization (and perpetration)—especially if they have adequate awareness about the extent of the risk. 

To the degree a woman or man falls on a higher or lower place on any of these spectrums (more past trauma, but lower stress levels today … less conflict, but also greater isolation), their level of risk (and protection) will likewise vary widely. 

In addition, women who are less educated, divorced, addicted (or with partners addicted to alcohol or pornography) are more likely to experience sexual violence—especially if they experience inadequate financial support, limited healthy community commitments, and a dearth of higher meaning and spiritual purpose in life.

Certainly, none of the above factors operates in a vacuum independent of each other—with interlinkages among all ten factors. For instance, people of faith are also more likely to avoid drug/alcohol dependency, experience nurturing social support and be happily married (while also having more children).

But overall, the research makes it clear that perpetrators focus on places where any vulnerability exists. For instance, women of younger age and much older age are both more likely to be victimized, as are those with reduced cognitive or physical capacity due to disability or prior victimization.

Some factors are more changeable than others, obviously. But even those that appear unchangeable (past abuse) have interventions that can prompt healing. On a general level, as reflected above, “a person’s routine and lifestyle influences the level of exposure one has to potential perpetrators and how vulnerable one is as a target,” as Walker, et al., 2020 state. Consequently, “the identification of variables that influence likelihood of (sexual violence) is fundamental for prevention efforts” (Thomas & Kopel, 2023). 

Alignment with other studies

Many of these themes have been identified in other attempts to survey available risk factors, such as a CDC analysis from 2016, which touched on most of the above patterns, but overlooked the potentially protective role of faith and religiosity.

This national and international data also align with demographic data collected locally in Utah, showing higher vulnerability to sexual violence among women who are homeless, with lower socioeconomic status, using drugs or alcohol, in minority groups, younger, or experiencing some kind of physical or mental impairments.

One especially impressive University of Washington literature review from 2017 concluded that the available evidence “reinforces the long-standing notion that sexual aggression is a complex behavior that emerges based on the interplay of multiple risk factors over time.”

“Additionally,” they note “there are likely very different pathways to the development of sexually aggressive behavior. 

As Casey & Masters, 2017 conclude, “This means that preventing sexual aggression before it begins necessitates prioritizing multiple risk factors, and bolstering multiple protective factors across individuals and communities.” 

The only real purpose of such study, of course, is taking better steps to protect women from sexual violence. 

Better data, better prevention

The CDC advocated nearly two decades ago for building a comprehensive ecological model that “offers a framework for understanding the complex interplay of individual, relationship, social, political, cultural, and environmen­tal factors that influence sexual violence” —all of which they note can inform specific intervention and prevention steps.

In an early 2004 exploration of what sexual violence prevention programs should look like, the CDC called for prevention efforts that “work to modify and/or entirely eliminate the events, conditions, situations, or exposure to influences (risk factors) that result in the initiation of sexual violence” and thereby proactively take steps to “prevent sexual violence from initially occurring.” 

Yet a decade later in 2014, CDC researchers admitted (as I cited earlier) “rates of sexual violence remain alarmingly high, and we still know very little about how to prevent it,” going on to describe how most prevention efforts were largely “one dimensional” attempts to change individual attitudes, and little more. 

Kathleen C. Basile, Associate Director for Science in the Division of Violence Prevention, in the Center for Injury Prevention and Control at the CDC, told me in an interview with Deseret News, “I would also add that sexual violence, intimate partner violence, all types of violence are preventable, and the way we prevent them, like you alluded to earlier, is to understand the size of the problem and who is impacted, and so the characteristics, like who the perpetrators are, who, what age, it happens, things like that” (italics my own). 

In a 2014 review of strategies to prevent sexual violence perpetration, CDC researchers stated that “the vast majority of preventative interventions evaluated to date have failed to demonstrate sufficient evidence of impact on sexual violence perpetration behaviors.”

They went on to call for “an evidence-based, comprehensive, multi-level strategy to combat sexual violence,” suggesting that “addressing a broader range of risk and protective factors for sexual violence may be more likely to be effective.”

Two years later in 2016, the CDC released a prevention resource prevent sexual violence called “STOP SV”—noting that although the evidence for sexual violence prevention is “less developed” than other areas of prevention, “a comprehensive approach with preventive interventions at multiple levels of the social ecological model (i.e., individual, relationship, community, and societal) is critical to having a population level impact on SV.” But they noted that evidence remained “limited and must continuously be built through rigorous evaluation.” 

As CDC researchers summarized in 2016, “Risk for sexual violence perpetration is influenced by a range of factors, including characteristics of the individual and their social and physical environments. These factors interact with one another to increase or decrease risk for SV over time and within specific contexts.” 

CDC researchers also wrote in 2016 that “prevention strategies that address risk and protective factors for sexual violence at the community level are important components of a comprehensive approach,” before lamenting that “few such strategies have been identified or evaluated.” 

Ten life patterns that increase protection 

Our review of these root contributors paints a picture of what deeper strategies of protection would look like. For instance, men who are less educated, financially struggling, addicted, isolated, emotionally unhealthy, promiscuous and spiritually disengaged, are also more likely to perpetrate sexually on vulnerable women.

There’s also protective power in more fully appreciating that women and men who are better off economically, have good educational experiences, and are embedded within both healthy marriages and supportive communities are less vulnerable to sexual violence. This is doubly true if they also avoid substance abuse and habits of risky, casual sexual relations with multiple people, while nourishing a healthy spiritual foundation.

Here are the ten steps that follow from this research broken down: 

• Helping lift families and communities out of poverty
• Expanding educational opportunities for both women and men

• Helping nurture marriages and families that are healthy and happy

• Providing additional support for younger and larger families

• Helping to prevent compulsivity and support addicts in finding freedom

• Encouraging the value of sexually-exclusive marriages and healthy, non-aggressive masculinity

• Fostering deeper healing for mental health challenges

• Helping those who have experienced earlier abuse to work through post-traumatic symptoms

• Expanding robust community connections and durable social support

• Fostering healthy spirituality and religious connection

To see a broader summary of concrete steps, go here for the Deseret News article.  Some of these ten themes are reflected in a 2016 prevention resource released by the CDC called “STOP SV.” This resource highlighted research-based recommendations that include efforts to “provide opportunities to empower and support girls and women, support victims/survivors to lessen harms, create protective environments, teach skills to prevent sexual violence and promote social norms that protect against violence.”

As reflected above, some of the best ways to ensure women remain safe may be to proactively encourage life and community patterns proven to protect against both victimization and perpetration, including:

• Healthy marriages that are cooperative and satisfying, surrounded by layers of trustworthy community support.
• An atmosphere where education is prioritized and there are adequate resources to provide for the financial needs of the family, while helping both men and women avoid drugs and alcohol, delay sexual behavior until marriage, and learn how to control anger and impulses.
• A hopeful environment that nurtures healing from past trauma and current mental health challenges, while ideally also providing a grounding sense of higher purpose and spiritual meaning.

According to the evidence, women embedded in this kind of a context will be significantly less likely to be sexually victimized (or abused in other ways)—compared with those living within chaotic settings with poor education, financial deficits, fraying marriages, spiritual detachment, few healing resources, rampant substance abuse, sexual promiscuity and out of control anger.

Just as any vulnerability can be exploited by perpetrators, any time a vulnerability is shored up and turned into a strength, there is more protection against multiple kinds of abuse. Therefore, if we want to get at the roots of sexual victimization, more focus needs to go towards these kinds of protective life patterns, and additional ways to encourage and promote them.

Special thanks to Laura Whitney, Odessa Taylor, Jacob Orse, and Brigham Powelson for helping to gather and sift through published studies, and to Diana Gourley for helping edit the review. In addition to recent support from Deseret News, the author expresses thanks to Public Square Magazine for initial funding for the project.

The post What Life Patterns Protect Against Sexual Violence? appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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What conditions make violence against women more likely?

I first began asking this after an experience as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Northeastern Brazil, when we passed by a home where a woman had just, the night prior, been killed by her husband.

I’ll never forget that day. Neighbors were speaking on the street in hushed tones about how they had heard the screams. Rather than a surprise, this woman’s violent death seemed to have followed years of torment at the hands of her husband—so much so that some who lived close-by admitted they had become used to it.

How was this even possible? How could anything like this take place, I wondered, especially at the hands not of strangers, but of men most responsible to nurture, love and protect?

Women around the world continue to face disheartening levels of violence from husbands, boyfriends, dates, colleagues and sometimes strangers. Perhaps if we understood—truly understood, at a deeper level—why such abuse was taking place, we could do something more about it.

Several years ago, Public Square Magazine generously provided initial funding for me to gather a research team to gather published studies around the world that get at the roots of this question. Our small team reviewed thousands of studies to identify those focused specifically on risk factors for sexual violence. 

Our team paid careful attention to risk factors for both sexual perpetration and victimization. The studies explored span the globe, uniting insights from dedicated research teams doing incredible work in many countries and across a wide variety of settings (campuses, workplaces and homes). We also paid careful attention to general studies of “domestic violence” or “intimate partner violence,” which tend to include some degree of sexual coercion and abuse as well.

Earlier this year, I completed this review of 500 abuse studies (285 adult, 215 youth), publishing a summary version of these results in the Deseret News, and the full-length, 73 page version also posted on my Substack last month. 

In this project, we have hoped to add to the ongoing, international project to “further unravel the complicated … interactions related to victimization,” as European analysts wrote recently—ultimately considering how “specific combinations of characteristics may contribute to an increased likelihood of victimization.”

In 2014, however, other CDC researchers admitted, “Rates of sexual violence remain alarmingly high, and we still know very little about how to prevent it.”

The good news is that if we can capture a clearer picture of what’s really making this kind of tragic violence against women more likely, we can then take more effective steps to eradicate this evil which terrorizes so many women (of all ages and backgrounds) around the world today.

Here, I provide a summary analysis of patterns that make sexual violence against women more likely—with a deeper focus on patterns in relation to faith and religiosity. After reviewing these results, I will touch on practical steps that families and communities can take—each of which follow from these findings. 

10 patterns associated with increased vulnerability

1. Fragile family economic well-being

Women growing up in difficult economic circumstances (insufficient family income, lack of employment, food insecurity) are more vulnerable to being victimized sexually—while men growing up in these same circumstances are more vulnerable to becoming sexually aggressive.

The opposite is also true in homes where economic needs are met (sufficient income, employment and food), consistently showing men and women in these families being protected from being drawn into sexual violence and other kinds of abuse too.

While having paid work outside the home acts as a preventive measure against sexual violence for some women, many studies in developing countries find the opposite—with formal employment sometimes heightening a risk of victimization for women, especially those with isolated jobs or which involve night shifts.

2. Limited educational opportunities

Studies around the world show women to be more vulnerable to sexual violence when they have little to no education. Men are also more likely to be sexually aggressive when they are illiterate, or have a lower level of formal education.

The opposite is again true, with women who have more years of education frequently less likely to be victimized and men with more education are also less likely to perpetrate sexual violence.

There are exceptions to this protective effect from education since some campus environments appear to raise the risk of sexual violence. And there are some parts of the world where a woman with more education than her husband somehow raises her risk of being victimized.

3. Living in an unhealthy, conflicted intimate relationship

Women who are divorced, cohabiting or living alone are all at greater risk for sexual violence, according to different studies. None of this means married women are automatically safer, however, with so much depending on how cooperative and happy a marriage is, along with how much serious conflict is involved.

4. Raising young children without adequate support

According to multiple studies, the presence of children in a home increases a mother’s risk level for abuse victimization generally—likely due to the added stress this places upon marriages and families.

Whether due to marital conflict, economic struggles, mental health challenges or additional children, families enduring heightened levels of stress clearly appear more vulnerable to different kinds of abuse.

Even the addition of a single child raises victimization risk, with studies also showing heightened vulnerability to abuse at the hands of an intimate partner during pregnancy. Sadly, women unable to have children face additional victimization risk. And in some parts of the world, having a daughter instead of a son likewise increases the risk of victimization.

The quality of parenting clearly makes a difference for what a child’s future safety will be as adults. A home life that is chaotic, disrupted, impoverished, with parents who are uneducated, addicted or divorced, raises the risk of eventual victimization for that child as they become an adult.

5. Drug and alcohol abuse

Few factors have received more consistent empirical verification than the impact of alcohol and drugs—not only on men who are significantly more likely to perpetrate sexually under the influence of substances, but also on women who are more likely to be sexually victimized under the influence.

As Italian researchers summarize, “alcohol can impair cognition, distort reality, increase aggression, and ease drug-facilitated sexual assault.”

Drug use can also “render a victim incapable of defending themselves or unable to avoid dangerous situations where victimization may occur” according to U.S. researchers.

This is especially true with heavy, regular substance use, which U.S. researchers in one campus study called “one factor that has been found in most studies to be associated with higher risk for sexual aggression.”

There appears to be even higher vulnerability when both a man and woman are under the influence, with one U.S. research team concluding, “the amount of alcohol consumed by both perpetrators and victims also predicted the amount of aggression and type of sexual assault.”

If you grew up in a home with alcohol or were exposed to alcohol and other substances at an early age, there’s also evidence of increased risk for sexual violence as an adult. Alcohol is also one major reason sexual violence is often higher in college, especially campuses with a cultural acceptance of heavy drinking as a social norm.

6. Early, risky, casual sexual behavior

When women have sexual experiences earlier in life, they are at greater risk of sexual violence—especially when that involves casual “hook-ups” with multiple people. One research team called this “simple probability,” in that “multiplying partners would increase the chances of being involved with a violent partner.”

Repeatedly, studies also confirm that higher numbers of sexual partners increase the likelihood of men perpetrating sexual violence.

Cohabitation and extramarital affairs likewise raise the risk of sexual violence, as does overall impulsivity. For example, gambling is associated with increased risk of both perpetration and victimization.

In the other direction, stronger impulse control and overall self-control unsurprisingly protect against sexual violence.

Relatedly, over 100 studies have linked compulsive pornography use to sexual aggression, coercion and violence against women and children. For instance, one 2015 analysis examining 22 studies from 7 different countries concluded that pornography consumption was “associated with sexual aggression in the United States and internationally, among males and females, and in cross-sectional and longitudinal studies.”

7. Ongoing, significant mental health challenges

It’s expected that victims would experience depression and anxiety in the difficult aftermath of abuse. There’s also evidence that women who experience mental health problems are at greater, additional risk of being victimized sexually—as are those who endure traumatic effects from any previous abuse.

Studies also find that men with different mental health challenges, including depression and bipolar disorder, can sometimes be at greater risk of perpetration. And there are cases in which medical treatments appear to have prompted sexual aggression among male patients that was “wholly alien to their character and antithetical to their prior behavior,” in the words of one psychiatrist.

In terms of victimization, Canadian researchers also note several studies confirming that “psychotropic drug abuse” can sometimes alter women’s judgment and “keep them from recognizing and avoiding dangerous situations and defending themselves against an attack.”

8. Adverse childhood experiences and young adult aggression

The atmosphere of one’s family upbringing can influence risk for sexual victimization and perpetration as an adult. Studies highlight lower levels of earlier “family cohesion” and “emotional expressiveness in the family” as predicting later abuse.

Witnessing significant fighting between a mother and father as a child also raises later victimization risk—especially if that conflict is unresolved and leads to separation and divorce. Any type of family disruption and residential displacement increases the risk of sexual victimization and exploitation. This risk rises to an entirely new level, however, for children who have witnessed parents hurting each other physically, emotionally or sexually.

When those children get hurt emotionally or physically, they experience even more risk for victimization or perpetration when they grow up. This is especially true when children are sexually victimized, with German researchers observing that “sexual abuse in childhood increases the odds of experiencing and engaging in sexual aggression in adolescence and young adulthood.”

This has been known for decades now, with U.S. researchers stating back in 1998, “childhood sexual abuse consistently predicted sexual re-victimization in adulthood.”

That risk rises even more when multiple kinds of early abuse are involved, with Swedish researchers reporting that exposure to different kinds of abuse in childhood was “found to be the most potent risk factor for sexual violence in adulthood among adult women.”

When women experience sexual violence as a young adult—be that from a boyfriend or stranger—they are also more likely to be victimized again (even repeatedly).

9. Limited social support and expanding isolation

One pattern that seems especially clear empirically is that anytime a woman is isolated she is more at risk. This includes women who: (1) communicate less with their own family of origin, (2) live at a residence with no other adults, (3) have only a transient place of residence, (4) live in a rented house (especially by themselves), (5) work a night shift, and (6) experience barriers to healthcare access.

This may also explain why women (and children) living in a “post-conflict” zone or areas that have recently endured natural disasters experience heightened risk for sexual victimization.

In the other direction, those women who report experiencing the support of friends, family and surrounding community are less likely to be victimized sexually. 

But a lot depends on the attitudes of surrounding relationships. It’s clearly no great protection to be surrounded by in-laws or other neighbors who see violence in a marriage as “sometimes justified.” And being around friends who also experience sexual violence or normalize any kind of abuse also measurably raises the risk of victimization for women.

Clearly, not all communities have equal levels of awareness of this problem. That is even more apparent when we look back through different time periods in history when global awareness of this danger was far less.

10. Limited religious community and faith commitment

Religious faith plays an important role in the risk for sexual violence. For instance, one set of studies finds a lack of religious affiliation to be associated with more likelihood of sexual perpetration among men and sexual victimization among women. For instance: 

• “Low religious involvement” in the family raises risk for abuse among immigrant women in Spain (Vives-Cases, et al., 2014). 
• Women “lacking religious commitment” are at greater risk of victimization in Mozambique (Maguele, et al., 2020).  
• “Lack of faith and lower attendance at religious services correlated with higher levels of abuse” according to U.S. researchers—sharing their findings that women abused during pregnancy “professed less religious faith and religious service attendance” (Dunn & Oths, 2004). 
• “Being less involved in religious activities” is among the “risk factors for dating victimization” (Vézina & Hébert, 2007). 
• “Non-Christians were at increased risk for clinically significant intimate partner violence victimization” in a study of U.S. Air Force personnel (Foran, et al., 2011).
• There is higher risk of intimate partner violence among women who “practiced no religion” in a Kenyan study (Memiah, et al., 2021). 
• “Being without religion” is “associated with increased chances of rape” in a Brazilian study (Diehl, et al., 2022). 
• Citing “lack of church attendance” as one of the characteristics that are “common risk factors for abuse,” Lown & Vega, 2001 found additional evidence that “no or infrequent church attendance” among women was among a set of factors associated with more intimate partner violence. “No church attendance or infrequent church attendance significantly increased the odds of intimate partner violence” among women, they stated—adding that “religious involvement has been shown to be protective in previous studies as it was in our sample.”
• After summarizing Fergusson, et al., 1986’s finding that couples attending church most often in New Zealand were also least likely to report violence in their relationship, Ellison & Anderson, 2001 continued to describe the “graded pattern” this earlier research team found: “On the other hand, men and women who never attend religious services are much more likely than their more religious counterparts to engage in domestic violence.” This research team goes on to report their own research that “shows that religious communities can provide a haven and resource for the victims of abuse, particularly through the informal support networks of church women.”

These effects of low faith show up with male partners as well: 

• “Men with no religious affiliation” are among the “significant predictors” of intimate partner violence in another Brazilian study (Zaleski, et al., 2010). 
• Intimate partner violence is is more common among women whose husbands “attend church less frequently” according to Hindin & Adair, 2002. These researchers report in the Philippines that intimate partner violence (IPV) is “less likely with more household assets, and more frequent church attendance by the husband.” They go on to emphasize the value of “finding additional activities, like attending church, where men might be receptive to messages that discourage IPV or that promote the value of communication.” 

The patterns reviewed above make one thing unmistakably clear: sexual violence does not emerge from nowhere. It grows in environments of accumulated strain—economic fragility, relational conflict, addiction, isolation, untreated trauma, and, often, spiritual disengagement. No single factor guarantees harm. But when vulnerabilities stack, risk rises.

Understanding these patterns is not about assigning blame; it is about identifying leverage points for more effective protection. If certain life conditions consistently increase danger, then strengthening their opposites—education, stability, supportive community, emotional health, and genuine, healthy faith—becomes a meaningful path toward prevention.

In Part II, I will move from patterns of vulnerability to practical application—examining what families, congregations, and communities can proactively and specifically do to interrupt these cycles and build stronger layers of safety around women and children.

Special thanks to Laura Whitney, Odessa Taylor, Jacob Orse, and Brigham Powelson for helping to gather and sift through published studies, and to Diana Gourley for helping edit the review. In addition to recent support from Deseret News, the author expresses thanks to Public Square Magazine for initial funding for the project.

The post Getting at the Roots of Sexual Violence Against Women appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Across parts one and two, one theme becomes unavoidable: risk factors tend to cluster. When instability, isolation, weak supervision, emotional distress, substance use, and risky sexual behavior overlap, a child’s vulnerability rises—while the protective “friction” that would normally stop a perpetrator often falls away.

That matters because prevention can’t stay limited to awareness campaigns alone. Many communities have improved at recognizing warning signs and responding faster, but major gaps remain in proactively reducing the deeper, underlying conditions that make abuse more likely in the first place.

What follows is a prevention framework drawn directly from the patterns in the research: 10 life patterns that increase protection, with concrete steps families and communities can take to reduce opportunity for offenders and increase safety for children.

Multiple, overlapping risk factors

When less-educated parents who are no longer married and use alcohol are raising children in a home that struggles to find sufficient material resources, lacks healthy community connections and doesn’t have  any higher purpose or meaning, those children are, statistically speaking, more likely to be sexually abused, according to studies across the world.

It’s helpful to also acknowledge some overall limitations in research—for instance, research in countries outside the United States is more limited. There is also less examination in the research of both protective factors and abused boys, compared with risk factors and abused girls. 

Yet what we learn from such analyses can be hugely beneficial. Even one risk factor can have consequences, with cumulative risk emerging as these factors add up.  In one 2020 study looking at three separate “key risk indicators”—exposure to parental domestic violence, parental addiction, parental mental illness—the authors observed that “levels of child sexual abuse for women in 2010 were 28.7 percent for those experiencing all three, and 2.1 percent for women with no risk indicators. Those with two or more risk factors had between five- and eightfold higher odds of child sexual abuse.”

For instance, a younger child who has experienced significant prior trauma, is largely isolated, in a setting of high stress (poverty) and high conflict (divorce), enduring emotional disorder or substance abuse, and with limited educational background, is much more likely to experience abuse, including sexual victimization—compared with a child facing none of those environmental conditions. 

Likewise, an adult or older teen who has experienced significant prior trauma, is largely detached from other relationships, enduring immense current stress (financially or otherwise) and high surrounding conflict, enduring emotional disorder or substance abuse, and with limited educational background is more likely to perpetrate abuse on others—including sexual violence, compared with an adult or older teen with none of those conditions. 

Overall, we can see that various lifestyle patterns constitute a substantial risk burden for victimization. “Health-related risk-taking behaviors are associated with the likelihood of being a victim of violence” research on adolescent lifestyle risk and violent victimization shows, from data on students in South Carolina who reported engaging in risky lifestyles like drug and alcohol abuse, and sexual promiscuity and faced increased risks of being victims of dating violence. They call this a “lifestyles theory explanation of violent victimization in adolescent dating relationships.”

In summary, children will have very different levels of vulnerability to sexual violence depending on the atmospheres and family/community lifestyles they are being raised in. These clear patterns in the risk-factor literature can thus act as powerful signals to guide more effective prevention strategies. Based on our review, we outline below what that might look like.

10 life patterns that increase protection 

A tremendous amount of effort over recent decades has gone to the prevention of abuse in all its forms, including the most tragic of all: child sexual abuse. Much of that has centered around awareness raising efforts—such as teaching children the difference between good and bad touch and helping adults become more vigilant to watch for signs of abuse.

Despite significant benefits from these and other encouraging efforts, the CDC highlights “critical gaps” in the U.S. response, with “few effective evidence-based strategies available to proactively protect children from child sexual abuse.”

This U.S. agency then emphasizes our need to “increase our understanding of risk and protective factors for child sexual abuse perpetration and victimization”—which can guide, in the words of Norwegian researchers, more “targeted prevention strategies for children and adolescents.”

That’s why I believe these patterns above can be so helpful—informing more proactive steps to further protect children. Notice how many researchers have been calling for the same thing: 

• “Efforts to decrease child sexual abuse need to be based on research ,” Zych & Marín-López emphasize, calling for “more accessible evidence regarding the breadth of risk and protective factors and effectiveness of interventions to reduce child sexual abuse needs to be provided to policymakers.” 
• “ Novel data on perpetrators of the violence and the risk factors for experiencing violence ,” Pankowiak et al. state, “provides further context to inform safeguarding strategies.” 
• “By identifying and understanding the systemic factors which enable child sexual abuse ,” Dodd et al. write, in the context of sports, “more effective prevention and policy interventions can be developed to make sport safer for children.” 
• “Knowledge of the risk and protective factors ,” Owusu-Addo et al. agree, “can guide and inform the development” of better prevention programs. 
• This aligns with other efforts to develop “a prediction model to identify those at greatest risk ”—specifically aiming to “identify youths at greatest risk before they are harmed.” 

These patterns point to straightforward implications that are often overlooked in public discourse.. Based on our review, children raised by educated, happily married in homes with adequate financial support, nourishing community connections and a sincere and healthy religious commitment, those children are far less likely to get caught up in drugs and alcohol and are less likely to be victimized sexually. 

More specifically, here are 10 steps that could protect children based on these findings:

1. Helping lift families and communities out of poverty
2. Expanding educational opportunities for mothers, fathers and children
3. Helping ensure more children are raised within a healthy marriage and continue into adulthood with happy family ties
4. Strengthening exhausted parents’ ability to nurture their children and create strong bonds
5. Surrounding children and families with layers of trustworthy social support
6. Proactively encouraging more lasting emotional healing
7. Encouraging teens to delay sexual behavior until marriage
8. Teaching empathy, compassion and self-control to those struggling with aggression and anger
9. Helping prevent youth drinking and support adults in finding freedom
10. Embedding children in a healthy spiritual/religious atmosphere

(A broader summary of these concrete steps is available in the Deseret News — with my full analysis of all 215 sexual abuse studies available at my Substack.) As reflected here, some of the best ways to ensure children experience reduced risk for sexual exploitation may be to find ways to encourage an upbringing embedded within:

• Healthy marriages with parents willing to nurture lasting attachments to their children—with back-up support from multiple protective layers of trustworthy community connections.
• An atmosphere where education is prioritized and there are adequate resources to provide for the financial needs of the family.
• An environment where teens are encouraged to avoid drugs and alcohol, delay sexual behavior until marriage and learn how to control their anger and impulses.
• An atmosphere where youth and adults are provided with support for deeper healing when current emotional struggles exist or previous abuse has taken place.
• An environment where faith, spirituality and religious community provide children and parents with higher purpose and deeper meaning to life.

According to the available research literature, a child raised in this context will be significantly less likely to be victimized sexually (and by other forms of abuse). By contrast, a child raised within an atmosphere of conflicted or broken families, neglectful parents, poor education, financial deficits, spiritual detachment, limited healing resources, substance abuse, sexual promiscuity, community acceptance of aggression and out of control anger, faces a higher risk.

Special thanks to Laura Whitney, Odessa Taylor, Jacob Orse, and Brigham Powelson for helping to gather and sift through published studies, and to Diana Gourley for helping edit the review. In addition to recent support from Deseret News, the author expresses thanks to Public Square Magazine for initial funding for the project. 

The post Life Patterns That Increase Protection Against Child Sexual Abuse appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Part one in my series on the risks of sexual assault focused on five broad conditions that repeatedly appear in the research about heightened vulnerability to child sexual abuse: fragile economic stability, limited education, the absence of a stable two-parent relationship, low-quality parent-child bonds, and weak community accountability.

In part two, the evidence turns toward a different cluster of factors—patterns that often show up in the lives of victims and perpetrators: significant mental-health struggles, early and risky sexual behavior (including exposure to sexually explicit content), aggression and impulsivity, and drug and alcohol influence.

This article also examines the research on faith and religiosity. The findings are more complex than many people assume. Healthy religious practice functions as a protective layer in a number of studies—often indirectly, by shaping peer networks, substance use, and sexual risk-taking. But religious identity alone is never a guarantee of safety, and faith settings can also be exploited when adults are unaccountable or when communities fear the consequences of transparency.

What follows are five patterns of individual behavioral risks associated with childhood sexual assault—not as moral judgments about families or youth, but as population-level signals that help clarify where prevention and safeguarding can be strongest.

Ongoing, Significant Mental Health Struggles

While you would expect poor mental health in the aftermath of abuse, there’s repeated evidence that young people who struggle with various mental health challenges are also more likely to be victimized sexually, as well as to become perpetrators themselves.

This appears to be largely due to the emotional vulnerabilities associated with high levels of despair, hopelessness, fear, and anger. But it’s also clear that some psychiatric treatments can involve emotional blunting and heightened indifference—making affected youth more likely to be sexually victimized.

There’s also evidence for “drug-induced activation” and manic symptoms in treated youth that can sometimes manifest as excessive hypersexuality and uncharacteristic sexual aggression against other youth.

Where abuse has taken place, it’s especially critical to help young victims receive as much compassionate support as possible to heal from earlier trauma. That’s confirmed by abundant evidence showing that previous abuse of any kind sets up a child for future sexual victimization and perpetration.

Early, Risky, Casual Sexual Behavior

A significant number of studies find that youth who are sexually active at a younger age or who have multiple, casual sexual partners are at heightened risk of being sexually victimized or becoming perpetrators.

Adults who are hyper-sexual are also at greater risk of perpetrating sexual violence against children. This is especially true in the presence of cognitive distortions that justify exploiting children as a legitimate “need” that doesn’t “really harm” the child.

More than 100 studies have likewise linked compulsive pornography use to sexual aggression, coercion and violence against women and children, contrary to industry-friendly messaging that mass consumption of explicit material somehow “reduces” sexual violence.

One 2023 review of 27 studies involving 16,200 young participants in North America, Europe, Asia, and Africa concluded that “significant associations were found between exposure to both violent and nonviolent sexual content” and the likelihood of engaging in “problematic sexual behaviors” (frequently involving force, coercion and aggression).

Aggression, Lack Of Empathy And Impulsivity

Young people who display a marked lack of empathy, along with significant anger and hostility, are more likely to be involved in sexual violence. This is especially true if boys show a behavioral pattern of fighting, conduct disorders, and disciplinary problems at school. Penn State researchers found that “delinquent youth” were “more likely to have favorable attitudes toward the abuse, to initiate the sexual encounter and to experience repeat victimizations.”

Young people who spend time with “delinquent” friends are also more likely to perpetrate sexual abuse against others and be victimized themselves—especially if they demonstrate consistent patterns of aggression, impulsivity and rule-breaking. These are the patterns U.S. researchers find lead to a “heightened risk for most types of victimization.”

Dutch researchers reported in 2023 that “impulsivity increases the odds of future sexual victimization as a child.” And German researchers found earlier that the lack of self-control likewise predicts “sexually aggressive behaviors” among adolescent boys.

Adults who display low empathy and callous, aggressive, criminal patterns—as well as an overall lack of impulse control—are also more likely to sexually offend against children.

Drug And Alcohol Influences On Both Youth And Adults

Substance abuse has multifaceted impacts on abuse, starting at home—since the children of parents who use alcohol are more likely to be sexually victimized and to sexually offend against other children. 

Teenage boys who use substances, both drugs and alcohol, are more likely to sexually abuse others. And teenage girls who use alcohol are also more vulnerable to being sexually victimized by other adolescents and adults.

This is true in a dating context as well, with University of Maryland researchers summarizing: “substance abuse during a date is linked to experiences of sexual and physical violence.” Even “being in places where one’s friends are drinking alcohol” is “associated with an increased risk of victimization” according to the same scholars.

Adults who sexually abuse children often struggle with drugs and alcohol as well—this frequently being one of many factors bringing a man (or woman) to the point of being willing to exploit someone so vulnerable.

Limited Faith Commitments And Religious Practice 

Young people who report infrequent attendance at church show heightened risk for both sexual victimization and perpetration. For instance, “low frequency of attendance to religious services” was identified in a survey of 250 high school teens as one of the “socio-cultural factors that affect the kind and intensification” of family abuse that includes sexual violence. 

Other studies report “not having religious affiliations” as a risk factor for sexual violence—with young girls who report their religious affiliation as Protestants compared to those with no religious affiliation. Among other things, these researchers hypothesized that “girls who do not have religious affiliations could be marginalized and socially isolated.” 

The protection of a healthy faith

By contrast, youth who report frequent attendance at church have repeatedly been found in studies within different countries to have less risk for abuse of various kinds, including sexual violence—especially when they demonstrate “intrinsic religiosity” (sincere faith).

For instance, adolescent girls who rated themselves as very religious in a 2021 South African study were 80 percent less likely to describe any previous experience of sexual violence in their lives compared to girls who were not religious. In addition: 

• Church attendance was identified as protective in a survey of Puerto Rico students from 117 schools, making violent behavior between adolescents less likely.
• “Religious service attendance” was a central variable associated with a lower prevalence of recent dating violence.
• Church attendance and religiosity protected against perpetration of sexual violence among high school students. 

The Sexual Satisfaction and Function Survey asked nearly 1,400 women in 2019-2020 whether they had experienced sexual abuse as a teen, and how often they attended religious services during high school. In a new analysis of the data, Stephen Cranney found that women who reported attending religious services weekly during their high school years were significantly less likely to talk about experiencing sexual abuse as a teen, compared with those who were less religious in high school.

These same trends show up in research on sexual minority youth as well: 

• In a survey of 117 adolescents in same-sex relationships, those who reported that religion was important to them were at lower risk of “any violence.”
• A study of sexual and gender minority youth found spirituality was among protective factors associated with lower likelihood of adverse outcomes, including sexual violence victimization and perpetration.
• Spirituality also emerged as a significant protective factor associated with lower risk of sexual violence victimization among high school students, as replicated in a follow-up paper.

This goes against common biases in the research community. One researcher set out with a hunch that “authoritarian ideology, including religious conservativism (which) endorses obedience to authority” might also correlate with the “mistreatment of children.” But on closer examination, political and religious conservativism both predicted lower child abuse rates.

How faith shapes other variables playing a role

Studies also identified a number of other variables that play an indirect role in increasing or reducing sexual violence—each of which are tied to the level of religious commitment in a teenager: 

• More risky sex—Adolescent females “for whom religion was not or only somewhat personally important” had higher odds of participating in “riskier sex” in one multi-factor analysis. 

• More negative friends—Elevated levels of “religious coping” were indirectly protective against violence by reinforcing “less antisocial bonding” among high-risk youth in a longitudinal study.
• More substance abuse—A “personal belief in God” and “parent religiosity” were connected with less adolescent substance use in one survey-based study. It’s long been known that illicit drug use decreases among young people as belief in God increases in broader population research, or they are involved in a spiritual system that provides grounding (including Buddhism, as shown in cross-cultural work).

Consistently, one study found high-risk behaviors fully mediated the link between religious activity and dating violence. Another paper likewise cites research suggesting that “values upheld by the clergy and their peers who attend church could also reinforce youths’ personal values against violence and/or high-risk behavior.”

In the other direction, one analysis highlights research linking religiosity with stronger bonds to family members and school. Another paper adds that stronger bonds to family members and school mean that a youth will spend greater time with parents and other adults in schools that will act as the child’s ‘handler.’ These handlers will protect the child from engaging in criminal behavior, which will decrease the odds of victimization.

Religious children are still abused far too much

None of this is to minimize heartbreaking instances where a child is assaulted in a religious home, or by a perpetrator acting in a religious position. And, indeed, there is no such protective religious influence in a home or community where children are harshly controlled and manipulated by domineering adults. When such devastating abuse is perpetrated by a person of such immense trust, it can prompt in a young person what one scholar described as “rage and spiritual distress that pervades their entire life being.”

As two researchers argued in 2010, “the particular nature of religiosity needs to be considered when interpreting a connection between religiosity and abuse risk”—going on to highlight differences in the “underlying motivation for an individual’s religion.” The authors suggest that “Religiosity per se may not be as critical to predicting physical abuse risk as selected approaches to religion or particular attitudes the religious individual assumes in their daily life.” 

In response to the same article, another researcher in 2011 pointed out that “it is very common for social distortions and individual pathology to be hidden by groups and individuals behind a religious construction, misconception or misinterpretation.” The same researcher also underscored that “the fundamental concept of the major religions in the world deal with loving one’s fellow man, caring for the family and one’s children, and being a positive element in the community (with kindness and charity).”

Like other communities, faith communities are actively taking more steps around the world to prevent such tragedies. Meanwhile, it seems clear that healthy and cooperative religious communities generally reduce victimization, in part, because children with such a faith commitment shaping their lives and homes typically engage in less risky sex, less substance abuse and have fewer negative friends.

In part three, I look at what happens when these risk factors stack and their effects are combined—and the specific protective patterns the research suggests can reduce harm before it occurs.

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David Archuleta’s new book, Devout, begins as a moving and candid account of overcoming family trauma, toxic relationship dynamics, suicidal ideation, and an overbearing father determined to live vicariously through his talented son.

Which is why its ultimate conclusion is so tragic.

Because his understanding of God was that of a bludgeon instead of a balm, David decided that leaving the safety of the restored gospel was the best route for him and could be for others.

There’s no way for any of us to know what choice we would make in his shoes, so this isn’t about judging his heart. Thankfully, that’s God’s job. But it is about making righteous judgments about the morality of his choices and the impact his advocacy will have on others. As Latter-day Saints, how do we currently respond to stories like David’s, and how could we shift that response toward something more theologically sound and compassionate?

Patterns of Responding

There’s a predictable pattern that emerges whenever a prominent Latter-day Saint comes out as gay. This pattern typically plays out on both extremes of the political divide. One side uses the announcement as an excuse to ignore, belittle, or theologically dunk on anyone battling with LGBT+ concerns and questions. While that’s going on, the other side recognizes the individual’s sincere expression of pain and uses it to discourage faith-affirming, truth-filled ministering. 

As a sexual minority myself, I alternate between being engrossed with watching it unfold one day and being completely jaded by the drama the next. While our stories diverge in many ways, I do understand the feeling of watching a Church-wide debate that addresses deeply personal aspects of myself. It can be engaging, but it can also be frustrating. 

Both approaches come with a variety of intentions and goals—both good and bad—but both approaches also get us further from reconciliation, community, and truth. Let’s explore these patterns, examine how they fall short of discipleship, and uncover some possible alternatives.

Pattern 1: Apathy and Dismissal

One pattern of responding comes from a subset of Latter-day Saints who are deeply committed to their faith but struggle to embrace any attempts to address morally complex issues, especially LGBT+ issues. Either they take hard conversations about these topics as an attack on faith that requires an aggressive response, or they worry about saying the wrong thing and do not engage at all.

I have great sympathy for both of these worries. After seeing so many examples of church members using LGBT+ issues as a way to shoehorn progressive politics into the gospel, I find myself starting from a place of skepticism whenever I encounter the topic in a faith context. But seeing so many poor examples of addressing a topic doesn’t automatically justify avoiding the topic altogether.

When we encounter approaches like the one in David’s book, it can sometimes feel easy to justify taking a dismissive approach to his story or the story of others like him. Although David’s book begins as a respectful, candid exploration of his trauma and adversity, as it continues, it takes a rather sharp turn toward caricaturizing our beliefs and disparaging church leaders. This might make some inclined to stop considering David’s perspective altogether.

For example, when describing a conversation with Elder M. Russell Ballard where David was asking questions about homosexuality, Elder Ballard admits that we don’t have many revealed answers (a sentiment that other leaders have expressed): “Well, David, to be honest, I don’t know much about any of this. We don’t really have the answers on what to do about LGBT people. We’ve gone as brethren…and prayed about this, but we’ve never received any answers.” David’s conclusion to that answer was that Elder Ballard was admitting they were being dishonest about their role as prophets, seers, and revelators: “I was surprised by what Elder Ballard seemed to be admitting to me—that they didn’t actually know what God wanted or not. They were making guesses. But they were going to tell everyone the message was from God so they would just follow along without questioning them.”

The apathetic, dismissive approach falls short of discipleship by leaving a void. The more aggressive approach falls short of discipleship by pushing others away. Christ did neither. He purposefully sought out those who were rejected or engaging in behavior that was considered sinful or outside the norm. He approached the woman at the well, a social taboo given her Samaritan background, to minister to her. Even though he acknowledged she was living with a man who wasn’t her husband, he didn’t condemn her. Instead, he taught truth lovingly. He didn’t show apathy toward her choices, but he didn’t berate her either.

Being a disciple means engaging in these conversations with both courtesy and conviction. It means listening to the experiences of others with an open mind and a receptive heart. And it also means keeping truth tied to our efforts to minister.

Pattern 2: Discouraging True Ministry 

Another pattern of response comes from a broad group of Latter-day Saints who graft the modern approach to LGBT+ activism into their ministry. Some are politically involved and actively campaign for doctrine to change, while others take a more pacifist, you-do-you approach. When encountering stories like David’s, they rightly sympathize with the expressed pain, but their actions move beyond sympathy. Instead of anchoring their support in gospel truths, they remove many core components of the gospel from their attempts to connect and comfort. Instead of merely affirming the pain and lending an ear, they join in on disparaging our beliefs, prophets, or modern revelation. In the name of ministering, they share and leave supportive comments on social media posts that undermine doctrine. They discourage gospel discussion on topics like the eternal family and reject parts of the family proclamation.

David’s story commands compassion. His dad pushed him to participate in singing competitions, including American Idol, which he was ultimately grateful for, but which weren’t without their scars; he dealt with toxic family dynamics that split his family into factions; his parents divorced after years of turmoil; and, worst of all, he dealt with feelings of despair so deep that he considered taking his life. You’d have to have a heart of stone not to feel for someone who has gone through as much as David.

But what makes situations like this even more tragic is when the conclusion of that pain is to feel ostracized from or to reject the very thing that will help them heal best: namely, Jesus Christ and the understanding of His atonement found in His restored church.

The most challenging dynamic is when church members feel pressured to participate in this type of support because of language or behavior that mirrors manipulation more than advocacy. For example, a common theme in Devout is David’s mention of the effect our beliefs about marriage and family had on him. In referencing a group of people that walked out of his Christmas concert in Delta, UT (where I lived for a couple of years), after he used it as an opportunity for political advocacy, he said, “If that made them uncomfortable, then fine. I want them to think about why it made them uncomfortable. Maybe because sharing their beliefs led someone like me to consider ending my life, and they just wanted me to pretend to be a happy straight Mormon whom they loved watching on Idol?” Hurt by their lack of enthusiasm for his advocacy, he used our beliefs as a bludgeon. He furthered the idea that if we continue to believe and express our beliefs, we’re going to push people to the brink of desperation. A claim that, thankfully, is contradicted by the data. 

This same dynamic plays out in David’s account of suicidal ideation. I have no doubt that David’s suicidal ideation was genuine. He explains it in detail, and while I’ve never experienced that myself, I could nearly feel the despair as I listened to the audiobook. What a horrible reality to experience. I’ve seen it firsthand in a close friend who tried multiple times to end his life, thankfully to no avail. 

Instead of lacing our support with modern symbols and ideas, we can anchor it in the teachings of Jesus Christ. And not just the parts of His message that, in isolation, could seem to fit in with LGBT+ activism. But the totality of His message—including the sacrifice, responsibility, and love that’s moored to God’s law.

A Christlike Pattern for Responding 

Growing up a sexual minority Latter-day Saint was confusing enough for me. I can’t imagine adding to it the type of mixed messaging and morally confused advocacy that’s so common in the way that members of the Church often respond to experiences of same-sex attraction today. I came out of adolescence with plenty of fears and insecurities, but just enough faith to move forward toward the life I wanted. For me, that led to a life in the Church, an amazing wife, and children of our own. I don’t know that I would’ve been so lucky if I grew up in the environment that exists today.

As disciples of Christ and members of His restored church, we have the duty to love David and people like him without reservation. We also have the duty to love those who will be negatively affected by the message he’s promulgating. Are we loving them by cheering David’s choice to leave the path? Are we loving them by insinuating or explicitly stating that the covenant path is oppressive or harmful? Or that modern prophets are standing in the way of God’s true will for gay people? 

We can’t let emotion decide what’s true. Suffering and hardship—like the kind he experienced—don’t automatically discredit a path. On the reverse, relief or elation—like what he’s described after removing gospel standards from his life—doesn’t automatically vindicate one. 

I doubt David will ever see this. But if he does, I hope he also considers why his advocacy might not be received well by all, not out of hatred for him, but out of concern for our children and loved ones.

More than any other social debate, LGBT+ issues have challenged the idea that we can love those who share a different perspective. And it’s no wonder, with how high the stakes are viewed on both sides. But I reject the idea that in order to love someone, we must either adopt or cheer on their choices. As the late and missed President Holland put it, “As near as I can tell, Christ never once withheld His love from anyone, but He also never once said to anyone, ‘Because I love you, you are exempt from keeping my commandments.’ We are tasked with trying to strike that same sensitive, demanding balance in our lives.”

My aim is to strike that balance. I hope you’ll join me in that goal. 

The post A Devout Sexual Minority’s Response to Archuleta’s “Devout” appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

Several years ago, Public Square Magazine provided initial funding for a research team to gather published studies that get at the roots of this question. Our small team reviewed thousands of studies to identify those focused specifically on risk factors making children more vulnerable to sexual abuse by parents, other relatives, or older teenagers.

These studies from around the world also examine the assault of children ages six to twelve and teenagers in various contexts, including competitive sports clubs, youth-serving nonprofits, churches, and schools, with dating violence also receiving much more attention in recent decades.

For many years, scholarship emphasized individual offenders and individual victims—perpetrator motives, disorders, and victim-level correlates. In more recent decades, researchers have increasingly examined the broader context around abuse: family stability, supervision, peer dynamics, institutional oversight, and community accountability—what some studies call “enabling factors” that make abuse easier to commit and harder to detect.

Last summer, I completed this in-depth review of approximately 500 abuse studies (285 involving adults, 215 involving youth), publishing summary versions of results focused on children and adult victims in the Deseret News, with the full-length, 60-page version released later that fall.  

This three-part series synthesizes findings from that deep dive into the risk factor research focused on the sexual abuse of young people. Part one outlines five recurring patterns that show up across countries and contexts—patterns that tend to increase vulnerability to child sexual abuse by weakening stability, supervision, and community safeguards.

Fragile Economic Well-Being 

Consistently, studies demonstrate that children growing up in families and neighborhoods with limited economic resources are more likely to experience sexual victimization—a risk that appears to grow as poverty deepens (parents unemployed, families going without food, living in substandard housing, adolescents forced to work).

The opposite is also true. For instance, youth whose fathers were employed were “about four times less likely to experience sexual abuse than respondents whose fathers were unemployed,” according to one Nigerian study from 2017.

Limited Educational Opportunities

Children with lower levels of education are more vulnerable to victimization—especially those who drop out completely. As Canadian researchers summarized in a 2007 review, “adolescents who have no intention of pursuing postsecondary schooling or who have not obtained their high school diploma are at greater risk of being victims of sexual and physical violence.”

By comparison, when children grow up where education is encouraged and valued, they are less likely to be sexually victimized. This shows up first in analyses of parental education level—with studies from Africa to Brazil to the U.S. showing that boys and girls whose parents have more education are also more likely to be protected against victimization (with risk consistently increasing as parental education declines).

Children’s own higher education level also decreases this risk, starting with just being in school at all. This is especially true if the schools are smaller, if the child feels comfortable at the school, and if they are doing well academically.

Growing Up Without Both Parents in a Loving Relationship

Following parental separation, divorce, or death, a child naturally experiences more residential instability and often significantly less parental supervision. That frequently includes a greater likelihood of being in close, regular contact with other older men who are “not the biological father.”

Consistently, children with incarcerated fathers also were 5.5 times more likely to experience child sexual abuse in one New Zealand analysis. Even higher risk comes when children live with neither of their parents, such as living with friends or another relative; living in foster care or other institutions; or especially if they are homeless and on the streets.

By contrast, multiple studies found that children living with both parents are less likely to be victimized—with the same Nigerian analysis finding children living in these homes “two times less likely to experience sexual abuse.”

Although most sexual abuse happens within homes, studies repeatedly show that children growing up with married parents are less likely to be abused in any way, including sexually. This is especially true when that marital relationship is cooperative and healthy—with “parental togetherness” and “harmony” identified in the Nigerian study as “protective factors that buffer children from sexual abuse.”

No such marital protections exist, however, in the presence of significant amounts of conflict and other kinds of emotional and physical aggression in the marriage and home generally. Another African study found a 2.5-fold increased risk of children being sexually abused when they experienced conflict between parents—a result that aligns with some U.S. data.

Low Quality of the Parent-Child Relationship

While you would expect negative parent-child relationships within any abusive context, there is repeated evidence that poor relationships with a mother and father also precede and predict abuse of various kinds, including sexual violence.

Available studies look specifically at vulnerability to victimization connected to a “lack of closeness” with a parent and “low warmth” relationships within a “rigid” family climate. Children whose parents display harsh, authoritarian parenting behavior are also at greater risk of being sexually victimized.

One Canadian study of abusive coaches observed how they often admitted to persuading mothers and fathers to “relinquish some or all parental control” to themselves—with the researchers acknowledging that “for the abused athlete, the bond of trust established between him or herself and the perpetrator is often a substitute for a weak relationship with a parent.”

By contrast, studies in Africa and the U.S. found, unsurprisingly, that “high” and “frequent parental monitoring” is connected with less sexual violence against children and teens. This is also true for positive, warm, healing relationships between parents and children overall.

Spotty Community Accountability

To the extent any community has allowed isolated access to children historically, this has sadly been shown to raise the risk of victimization. That includes abuse connected with ‘unguarded access to children’ by religious leaders, ‘unsupervised coaches,’ rogue law enforcement officers, predatory physicians, leaders of boys’ and girls’ clubs, and other organizations where perpetrators can seek out ‘volunteer work with organizations through which they can meet children.’

One study of 41 serial perpetrators found that 57 percent reported having picked their profession either partly or specifically in order to access children. Such privileged, close contact with youth is often taken for granted within special trusted roles—clergy, coach, teacher, mentor, counselor, camp staff, and scout leader.

This is also why healthy peer groups make such a difference, and why negative friend and sibling relationships increase the risk of children being sexually abused. That includes settings where older adolescents have “unsupervised opportunity with younger victims.”

In the absence of this kind of proactive, robust community supervision, what’s clear is that isolation of any kind appears to be quickly exploited by adult and older teenage perpetrators. Australian researchers report that sibling sexual abuse is “the most common form of intra-familial child sexual abuse”—an outcome that is more likely among “step-siblings and half-siblings,” when compared with full siblings.

Five groups of young people, in particular, experience higher levels of sexual violence: (1) girls; (2) younger children; (3) youth who identify as sexual/gender minorities; (4) children who have experienced abuse previously; and (5) children with disabilities—all of whom consistently show higher risk for sexual victimization.

In part two, we turn to patterns tied more directly to mental health, risk behaviors, substances, and the evidence on faith and religiosity—factors that can either amplify vulnerability or strengthen protection depending on how they play out in real communities.

If you or someone you love has experienced sexual assault of any kind and needs additional support in the U.S., contact the National Sexual Assault Hotline (1-800-656-HOPE)—with virtual and text-based options available. This is a confidential networking service in the U.S. that helps connect victims with local agencies that can offer therapeutic support across the country. Similar kinds of hotlines exist in many countries around the world.

The post The Hidden Conditions that Leave Children Vulnerable to Abuse appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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A few weeks before his death, President Russel M. Nelson of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints published an editorial in TIME magazine. In it, he wrote: “Imagine how different our world could be if more of us were peacemakers—building bridges of understanding rather than walls of prejudice—especially with those who may see the world differently than we do.” Sadly, much of the world is not heeding this call. Mass shootings, arson, politically motivated murder, war, and genocide are all too common.  Our world is full of turmoil and conflict. But it doesn’t have to be this way. As President Nelson taught in April 2023, 

Contention reinforces the false notion that confrontation is the way to resolve differences; but it never is. Contention is a choice. Peacemaking is a choice. You have your agency to choose contention or reconciliation. I urge you to choose to be a peacemaker, now and always.

As we mourn his passing, we want to reflect on these teachings and what it means to be a peacemaker. The word itself is interesting. “Peace” can mean more than an absence of conflict; it can also mean a state of harmony, wholeness, and stillness. The word President Nelson emphasizes is not peace-experiencer, peace-taker, or peace-enjoyer. The word is peacemaker. A maker is someone who uses effort and intention to create, to build. 

Lessons from Bosnia & Herzegovina

Brigham Young University’s School of Family Life has hosted a five-week study abroad program in central southern Europe for the last two years. One thing the program covers is how war and trauma impact human development. The two of us had the privilege of attending as a co-director (Alex Jensen) and as a student (AnnMarie Sandridge). The program is life-changing: faculty and students leave with a deeper connection to the Savior and an increased ability to see the suffering of others through Christ’s eyes.

Eight years after hosting the Olympics, the city of Sarajevo became a symbol of the consequences of hate, intolerance, and contention. In March 1992, the Republic of Bosnia & Herzegovina declared independence from the fragmenting country of Yugoslavia. The move to independence brought simmering religious and ethnic tensions to the surface. The country fell into a brutal civil war, and the city of Sarajevo was put under siege for nearly 3 years and 11 months. More than 11,000 people would die in this city alone. Hundreds of thousands would frequently suffer without running water, electricity, heat, and sufficient food.

In addition to the millions of bullets, an estimated 500,000 grenades, mortars, and bombs were fired into the city from the surrounding mountains over the course of the siege, bringing terror, death, and destruction. In cities surrounding Sarajevo, Bosnian Muslims were raped, tortured, and killed in a cultural and ethnic genocide. Across the country, approximately 100,000 people were killed during the Bosnian war and genocide, resulting in some of the worst atrocities committed in Europe since World War II.    

Given the experiences the people in the city endured, you would expect to find a people full of hatred and a desire for vengeance. Undoubtedly, some feel this way, but many do not. Our group spent time with many people who, despite going through the horrors of the siege, have become peacemakers. Their examples provide shining examples of President Nelson’s teachings. Below, we share three specific ways the people of Sarajevo taught us about being peacemakers.  

Let God Prevail

First, the people of Sarajevo taught us the importance of worshipping God sincerely and letting God prevail in their lives. Nearly half of the population of Bosnia & Herzegovina is Muslim. During our time in Sarajevo, we visited many mosques, including attending the call to prayers and visiting with worshippers following the prayers.

Beauty for Ashes

The second lesson we learned was to choose to see the good in bad situations – in other words, to see the ways God can make beauty from ashes and give the oil of joy from mourning (Isaiah 61:3). A small street in Sarajevo has been home to generations of coppersmiths. These smiths produce beautiful tableware, drinkware, spice grinders, and other decorative items. During and immediately after the siege, copper was hard to source. It made it hard for them to make a living and provide for their families. When the siege ended, the coppersmiths scoured the mountains around the city, collecting the casings from grenades as well as artillery and tank ordnance. They took the casings and made them into exquisite works of art.

One coppersmith told us that it brought him peace. He was able to provide for his family because he saw the beauty in things that were designed for killing. Despite being wounded in the siege and losing several friends, he smiles when he says, “I am a happy man. I have my family, I have enough, and we are at peace.” The coppersmiths taught us to see the beauty in everything around us, even the ashes.

Peace is not Passive

The last and perhaps most important lesson the people of Sarajevo taught us was that peace is not passive. We spent time with multiple men who were sent to fight on the front lines of the siege as teenagers or young adults. In each instance, the front line was only one, two, or three miles from their homes. They were sent off with little to no training, and in many cases, unarmed. The unarmed soldiers carved sticks into the rough shape of a weapon to appear armed. Each man lost friends and family in the fighting. 

One man told us that following the war, he was bitter and angry. His thirst for vengeance was destroying him from within. In this state, he came across an organization that brought veterans of the war together—veterans from each side of the conflict. People would come share their stories, listen, and learn from one another—regardless of the social divisions that may have contributed to the war. At first, it was painful and even angering, but he kept attending. At one point, he realized, “these people are just like me.” Today, he calls some of them his friends.

These men modeled for us the truth taught by Nephi, the Lord “inviteth them all to come unto him and partake of his goodness; and he denieth none that come unto him, black and white, bond and free, male and female; and he remembereth the heathen; and all are alike unto God, both Jew and Gentile” (2 Nephi, 26:33). If God invites all to come unto him, perhaps like these men from Sarajevo, we should not turn our hearts away from those different from ourselves: the rich, the poor, the conservative, the liberal, the heterosexual, the homosexual, the single, the married, the able bodied, the disabled, the citizen, the immigrant, the friend, the enemy—the children of God.  

As we honor the life and passing of Russell M. Nelson, we hope that we can heed his call to be more like the Savior Jesus Christ and work toward becoming peacemakers. We are grateful for the people of Sarajevo who opened their hearts to us and shared their stories of making peace. May we each learn to turn to God and worship Him more fully, see the beauty in the ashes, and actively make peace by connecting on a personal level with those who are different from ourselves.

The post “Peace Is Not Passive”: Russell M. Nelson’s Radical Call to Peacemaking appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Here is the latest article in our Peacemaking Series. To read the last article: Disagreements Bring Balance: When Silence Isn’t Peace

Few moments are more defining than those shaped by deep personal betrayal. When recalling these moments, the body often reacts before the mind—muscles tighten, the stomach turns, and the memory returns with clarity. The pain may be lasting, the consequences irreversible. In such moments, two responses emerge side by side: anger and forgiveness—two gifts, one in each hand, and while both feel justified, only one can be given.

This is the essential tension at the heart of forgiveness: not a passive emotion, but an active, deliberate, sacred decision. Forgiveness is often couched in dramatic moments of intense pain and wrongdoing, but it also needs to find its way into everyday moments, like when a loved one or stranger says a careless word or performs a negligent action. These small moments of hurt, if unforgiven, can lead to a lifetime’s accumulation of tension and resentment. There is great power for both the offender and the offended in the words, I forgive you. While it is often assumed that forgiveness must be earned, Christian theology and research present a different view. Forgiveness is a gift extended not only to the offender, but also to release and heal the one who forgives.

What Forgiveness Is and Isn’t

Forgiveness is often misunderstood in its meaning and execution, carrying a wide range of meanings across individuals and cultures. Some may conclude it is unattainable before ever fully understanding what it entails. This word deserves a thoughtful unpacking before being dismissed. Clarifications of what forgiveness is and is not can be helpful. 

Forgiveness is not:

• Trusting the person who caused the wrong.
• Earned by the person who caused hurt.
• Forgetting what happened.
• Pretending the offense didn’t hurt.
• Letting the offender perpetuate the harm.
• Reconciliation, or prolonging a relationship.

Forgiveness is:

• A choice to act compassionately. 
• Beginning to feel compassion as you act compassionately.
• Given whether or not the other person shows remorse or change. 
• Something you do for you.
• A perpetual choice and not a single event.

Psychologist Everett Worthington––a leading expert on forgiveness whose research has informed much of the thinking in this article––identifies two forms of forgiveness: decisional and emotional. 

Decisional forgiveness is consciously choosing to forgive—often for our own well-being rather than for the benefit of the offender. 

Emotional forgiveness, by contrast, is when feelings of anger begin to soften into empathy and compassion.

While it is often believed emotions drive actions, research and experience suggest the opposite: choices and behaviors gradually shape feelings. Suggesting that often it may be required to act compassionately, before we feel compassion. Anger’s grip is hard and often shapes our journey with forgiveness. Anger can serve as an emotional strategy to overcome feelings of helplessness. However, as President Nelson taught, “anger never persuades,” and the sensation of control is really an illusion: change is up to the offender just as much as our decision to forgive is up to us.

Forgive For Your Own Sake

Worthington’s research shows forgiveness improves mental and physical health, lowers blood pressure, reduces anxiety, and even boosts the immune system. Forgiveness may not change the offender—but it will change the forgiver.

When we decide to release resentment, we begin to, as one Church leader put it, “rise to a higher level of self-esteem and well-being” characterized by emotional clarity and peace. Choosing to forgive doesn’t deny the pain—it simply refuses to let that pain define our path forward.

Examples of Forgiveness

At one point in early Church history, tensions ran high among members. People were hurting each other, holding grudges, and struggling to move forward. In that setting, the Lord gave a clear, striking command: His followers “ought to forgive one another.” Then He added something sobering. While God alone could decide “whom to forgive,” His disciples were not given that same privilege of discretion. They were “required” to forgive “all.”

It isn’t a suggestion. It isn’t conditional. This is a divine directive for healing and unity. The Lord didn’t ask them to ignore justice—He asked them to make room for His mercy by letting go of their desire to carry the offense any further.

Why would the Lord ask something so hard? Perhaps it is because the Lord knows that holding onto hate keeps our minds dwelling on the past and the offender. Focusing on the offense leaves no room for contemplating and engaging with His healing grace and hope in the present.

Jesus, hanging on the cross, uttered the words while looking at His torturers, “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.” In that moment, Christ modeled the highest form of forgiveness: extending compassion without having received any apology, show of remorse, or change. He recognized His abusers’ ignorance toward the depths of His pain and the extent of their own sin. Often, offenses are committed in such a state.

Even when buried by regret—when the weight of wrong choices seems too great, or the damage too deep—there is still hope. Healing doesn’t require perfection, only a willingness to turn toward the Savior. His grace reaches to infinite depths. Elder Jeffrey R. Holland tenderly reminds us, “It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.” The same is true for those who have caused wrong. They, too, remain within the reach of divine love, and those who forgive become more like Christ when hoping for their healing. 

The REACH Method

So what is to be done when someone wants to forgive, but doesn’t know how or where to begin?

Start here. The Skyline Research Institute has published a series of short and playful videos focusing on tools and tactics for Peacemaking. These videos expound principles taught in President Nelson’s address “Peacemakers Needed” by complementing them with academic theories in psychology and conflict management. This current article is one in a series of articles published through Public Square, exploring the theories taught in each video more thoroughly.

The following video teaches principles of forgiveness from the perspective of a cat learning to forgive the dog who hurt them.

As shown in the video, these steps give a simple starting place for applying the divine and well-researched principles of forgiveness:

1. Name the Hurt.
Think of the person who hurt you. Let yourself feel the pain. Ask, “What specifically hurts me about this?” Is it betrayal? Injustice? Abandonment?

2. Imagine Speaking to Them.
What would you say if they were sitting before you? Get it all out—no filters. Write it in a letter (even if you never send it).

3. Switch Seats.
Now imagine being them. What might they say? What wounds might they carry? This doesn’t excuse them—it humanizes them.

4. Picture the Two Gifts.
In front of you are two gifts: your forgiveness and your anger. Which will you give them?

This process may need to be repeated many times—that’s okay. Forgiveness is rarely a one-time event. Like any habit, the choice to act with compassion must be practiced, especially in the face of discomfort. It may feel unnatural or insincere at first, but each time we choose kindness, the action becomes a little more familiar, a little more automatic. In any given situation, forgiveness is a muscle that strengthens with use. It’s a neural pathway that, with repetition, begins to favor hope, action, and healing over the depressing and well-worn track of rumination.

If the choice to act compassionately towards an aggressor feels out of reach, recognizing the need to forgive and its benefits is a good place to start. Even aiming for forgiveness softens your heart. Desire to want to forgive.

Based on his research, Worthington developed the REACH method:

• R – Recall the hurt.
• E – Empathize with the offender.
• A – Altruistic gift of forgiveness.
• C – Commit to forgive.
• H – Hold onto forgiveness when emotions rise again.

As the video showed, REACH is enacted step by step by recalling the hurt, imagining the offender’s pain, and choosing to give the “gift” of forgiveness. 

The Choice Is Ours

The reality of pain is undeniable, and its depth is often known only to the individual and God. Life frequently confronts people with shocking and disproportionate suffering, much of it undeserved. Such experiences are not uncommon, though they remain deeply personal and often isolating.

Forgiveness does not erase the past—but it reclaims the future. It is not about denying hurt, but about refusing to let that hurt decide who we become. In a world full of real wounds and imperfect people, forgiveness offers something radical: not control over others, but healing within ourselves. Though anger may offer the illusion of power, only forgiveness frees us from the grip of the past and opens the way to peace. 

As both research and revelation affirm, forgiveness is not just a moral ideal—it is a practiced, powerful, and divine pathway toward emotional, physical, and spiritual renewal. 

The invitation remains: choose the gift of forgiveness. Give it again and again.

The post You Don’t Need to Feel Forgiving to Forgive appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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During the summer of 2025, we’ve seen a notable shift in the narrative style of superhero films. 

Since 2002, superhero films have centered on origin stories—plots that trace heroes from ordinary individuals to extraordinary agents of justice and good. But James Gunn’s rebooted film Superman and the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s introduction of the Fantastic Four both notably start in the middle of their characters’ stories. These characters are fully formed, and their backstories are assumed and deemphasized. 

This shift reflects more than just storytelling evolution; rather, it reflects a deeper cultural transformation in how we are responding to the crises around us, how we conceive of agency, and how we imagine heroism.

In the same way the origin story rose as a response to our cultural processing of 9/11, this shift away from them reflects the breakdown of shared national narratives and a desperate search for safety in an age of uncertainty. 

Pre-9/11: Action Without Introspection

Before the events of September 11, 2001, American action cinema largely operated within a confident moral framework. The genre thrived on spectacle, propulsion, and clarity, rather than introspection or psychological depth. Heroes were rarely burdened with complexity; they were good simply because they were good. Audiences accepted this simplicity not as a narrative deficiency, but as a feature of the genre’s moral architecture. The focus was on what the hero would do, not why they felt compelled to do it.

Similarly, in Independence Day (1996), Captain Steven Hiller (Will Smith) is a hotshot fighter pilot who defends the planet from extraterrestrial annihilation. The film offers no biographical backstory to explain Hiller’s courage; it simply presents him as the kind of American who rises to meet the moment. 

In addition, Top Gun (1986), with its swaggering fighter jocks and Cold War subtext, gives us Maverick (Tom Cruise), a thrill-seeking pilot who competes to be the best. Top Gun is notable because it does nod to the mysterious death of Maverick’s father, but it does so without mining the event for psychological motivation. It presents it not as formative for our character, but as part of his formed character. We never ask what made Maverick crave speed. 

These characters are fully formed at their introductions. There is no demand for narrative justification or psychological realism.

Even in the emerging superhero genre of the era—where one might expect more elaborate treatments of identity and origin, in line with their comic book form—this tendency persisted. The villain was often the one with a backstory, not the hero. Tim Burton’s Batman (1989) gives Jack Nicholson’s Joker an origin as a mob enforcer named Jack Napier, whose disfigurement and descent into madness offer a form of explanation for his violence. Batman, in contrast, is defined primarily through action and mystique. In X-Men (2000), the audience is given a haunting origin for Magneto, who, as a child, survives Auschwitz and emerges with a militant view of mutant survival. The heroes—Cyclops, Storm, Jean Grey—are just there. Even Wolverine, the film’s breakout antihero, is more defined by his amnesia than a deeply explored past.

In places where we do see origin-like elements, they are treated as flashbacks after which we catch up with our heroes mid-story. We see this approach in the brief flashback to the murder of Bruce Wayne’s parents in the 1989 film. Perhaps the clearest example of this narrative economy can be found in Superman: The Movie (1978). The film opens with the destruction of Krypton and young Kal-El’s escape to Earth. But these sequences are delivered in brisk montage and are more interested in Zod, the villain. We quickly skip ahead to a point where Superman is already the embodiment of American virtue.

Post-9/11: Origins as Ontology

In the years following 9/11, that changed. As American society absorbed the trauma of watching its symbols of power collapse live on television, it entered what we might call a hermeneutic age—an era defined by interpretation, inquiry, and a pervasive sense that nothing can be taken at face value. The cultural response was a desperate turn toward explanation, particularly in cinema.

The turn toward psychological realism and its expression—the origin story, arguably began with Spider-Man (2002). Released less than a year after 9/11, Sam Raimi’s film offered a superhero origin story steeped in trauma, guilt, and reluctant responsibility. Peter Parker isn’t simply bitten by a radioactive spider; he wrestles with the moral implications of power, the weight of his uncle’s death, and the crushing burden of his double life. The story insists on the interiority of its hero. And for the first time, where our superhero came from wasn’t a footnote; it was the story itself.

Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins (2005) exemplifies this shift. Rather than drop us into the action, the film spends nearly an hour exploring Bruce Wayne’s childhood fears, the trauma of losing his parents, and his training with the League of Shadows. The film doesn’t hint at his backstory; it is his backstory. Batman becomes not merely a symbol of justice but a complex psychological case study. And while the latter two films don’t repeat his origin, they continue to build on the themes of what caused him to be who he is. In The Dark Knight (2008), the Joker is terrifying precisely because he is inexplicable.

This trend wasn’t confined to traditional superheroes. Consider Casino Royale (2006), which reboots James Bond not for the next adventure, as he had been rebooted four times before, but at the beginning of his story. Here, he doesn’t begin as the suave, infallible operative of earlier films, but as a man learning the emotional and moral costs of espionage. Even Sonic the Hedgehog got an origin story!

Iron Man (2008) launches the Marvel Cinematic Universe not with world-saving action, but with Tony Stark’s reckoning with the consequences of his own weapons empire. Every character must be wounded, conflicted, and from somewhere. It is no mistake that Tony Stark’s origin focuses more on his alcoholism and troubled romantic life, which could resonate with the audience, than on his extreme wealth.

As audiences, we wanted to feel like anyone could rise up and become the hero, and by seeing these heroes begin as people like us, we felt empowered, putting ourselves into their shoes. 9/11 showed that our external heroes could fail, and the intimate experience of seeing the tragedy in our own living rooms made each of us want to feel empowered. For all the fantasy special effects, these films were at their heart a playbook for how each audience member could become a hero. It’s no surprise that during this period, it was our least human superheroes that struggled to resonate with audiences, Superman Returns, Man of Steel, the first two Thor films, and Eternals. These characters didn’t become heroes; they were born as heroes, so audiences didn’t need them.

A New Kind of Hero Post-COVID

Today, we are no longer reeling from a singular, unifying trauma like 9/11. Instead, we inhabit an age of chronic disillusionment. The COVID-19 pandemic became not a rallying point but a breaking point—exposing fractures in our civic trust, political institutions, and even basic consensus about reality. Where the post-9/11 era yearned for heroes we could become, the pandemic era has left us longing for something else entirely: the comfort that someone, anyone, in a position of responsibility will simply do their job.

We can see this anxiety in the fractured multi-verse style stories that began to take hold. Everything, Everywhere, All at Once (2022) captured this feeling in the prestige market, while it took over in Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021) and Dr. Strange in the Multiverse of Madness (2022). The progenitor of this trope, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018), went from novelty project to cultural behemoth post-COVID in 2023’s Across the Spider-Verse.

But while this reflected the moment in a way that clearly intrigued audiences, it didn’t speak to their desire for something soothing. Consequently, the appetite for the 9/11 generation of superheroes has waned. While the studio system kept producing more of the same, it was the throwback exceptions like Top Gun: Maverick (2022) that captured attention and rose to the top. This film succeeds precisely because it returns us to a world where competent people lead, where moral clarity is possible, and where action matters more than angst. Rooster doesn’t need an origin story; he needs to hit the target. And he does.

Audiences seem tired of watching characters endlessly become. They want to see them do their jobs.

This brings us to the superhero season of 2025. Although Marvel released Thunderbolts*, widely regarded as their best film in years, the reveal that it was another origin story about a superhero team ultimately turned off audiences, who then didn’t show up.

Audiences instead have shown up on the superhero front for Superman and The Fantastic Four: First Steps.

Both stories drop us into the action in media res, asking us to keep up with the characters who are already competent and decisive. We meet our newest Superman after a fight. 

Superman is notable here because his story does hint at his origin, but the film’s plot involves how he manages and subverts that in the present moment. One of the film’s major themes is how his origin does not define him. 

Both Clark Kent and Reed Richards have extreme powers—they have been entrusted by the people of their universes to protect them. Both of them fail and then [spoiler-alert] ultimately emerge victorious as they combine their deeply moral hearts with their advanced competences.

They care about people, so they protect them, and that’s a good enough reason. 

Today, America wishes our leaders and institutions would do the same. In the absence of that, we go to the cinema to see our fantasies and salve our wounds.

The post-9/11 era transformed not just geopolitics but the grammar of our storytelling. American films, once comfortable in moral simplicity, turned inward, seeking explanations, origins, and ontological justifications for every mask, every motive. That desire was understandable. In times of trauma, we reach for coherence. But as our culture has moved into its next phase, it has grown weary of explanation and demands action. We do not always need to know why someone became a hero. Sometimes, it is enough that they are one.

The post How We Lost Faith in the Hero’s Beginning appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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On November 13, 2022, the lives of four University of Idaho students—Kaylee Goncalves, Madison Mogen, Xana Kernodle, and Ethan Chapin—were brutally ended in their own residence in Moscow, Idaho. The horror of this atrocious crime—a nighttime invasion and stabbing—shocked the world and shattered lives and families forever. None of us can truly comprehend the anguish and loss experienced by the victims and loved ones because of this heartless crime. And yet, as with all tragedies, I believe God invites all of us to learn from this heinous darkness, to seek growth and compassion even amid tragedy.

The Savior never promised we would be spared from injustice in mortality—but He did promise us a way to transform suffering through His grace. In the aftermath of such darkness, we confront not only the fragility of human life, but the unsettling truth of human agency—how it can be wielded for either sublime compassion or unspeakable harm. What does it mean to trust in a God who permits such agency, even when it devastates lives? And how do we make peace with that trust?

The Weight and Gift of Agency 

During the recent sentencing hearing held on July 23, 2025, families spoke for nearly two hours. Each response was deeply personal, raw, and unique, reflecting where each soul stood—with agency intact and a path toward healing or forgiveness unfolding. Through the lens of divine love, we see that grief takes many expressions, and each response must be honored as part of God’s merciful design. Each witness reminds us that while pain is inevitable, the response is sacred—shaped by agency and observed with mercy by a loving Father in Heaven.

Agency is not neutral; it carries the weight of eternity with every choice. As Latter-day Saints, we speak often of agency as a divine gift—but events like these force us to ask: how do we reconcile that gift with its terrible potential to harm others? We cannot understand another person’s situation completely and cannot judge their situation or response perfectly, but each experience can open us to more empathy and compassion for the breadth of our connected human experience as fellow brothers and sisters, and help us better understand what the Savior must have suffered and felt for each one of us. 

The Anger of the Bereaved

Kaylee’s sister, Alivea Goncalves, delivered a searing, forceful statement. She denounced Kohberger as “pathetic,” “delusional,” a “sociopath,” accusing him of “thriving on fear and pain,” “terrified of being ordinary,” and calling him a coward—emphasizing that her sister would have shown him kindness if they’d met under different circumstances. Alivea was clear: she wanted him to feel pain. Her anger is a valid expression of grief—and it deserves space and understanding. She is still deeply hurting, and that kind of suffering is real and righteous. In Heavenly Father’s plan, agency includes the freedom to feel anger and sorrow. It is part of the grieving process, and grace allows that place of valid pain without condemnation.

The Savior taught us to mourn with those who mourn—but how do we do that when the mourning is loud, raw, vengeful, grief-stricken, and also righteous, like Alivea’s? Does our theology make space for unfiltered and searing grief? Yes, I believe that as covenant keepers, it must—and that it should. We need to create safe spaces for people to feel what they are feeling and understand their own emotions, which are needed for healing.  

Survivor’s Trauma

A surviving roommate of the tragedy, Dylan Mortensen, spoke of how her life has been forever altered. Her address shows that she lives with a loss beyond comprehension. Her search for safety and peace is ongoing. Dylan’s tears, suffering, and grieving voice reveal the depth of fear and dislocation she now lives with— constant fear from surviving such a terrible nightmare. Her feelings are valid; she deserves protection, healing, and security following the horror that irreversibly changed her life. 

We rightly feel compassion for the ongoing trauma she endures. Her situation shows what real fear is and reminds us of our need for the peace only found in God. Her story also points to the healing power and protection of loved ones—like her mother—and the yearning our Heavenly Father has to bring His children to safety and rest.

This is not just about individual recovery; it is a testament to our collective need for spiritual refuge. What does healing look like when peace feels unreachable? Just as we believe in a Savior who can calm the physical storm, we also believe He can quiet trauma’s aftermath—over time, through love, and through others. 

Forgiveness and Courage

Xana Kernodle’s mother, Cara Northington, stood before the court and testified that Jesus allowed her to forgive Kohberger—even though he showed no remorse. She declared, “Nothing man can do to you can ever compare to the wrath of God.” By God’s grace, she found a peace rooted not in justice served by human hands but in trust in divine justice. She refused to share her daughter’s good memories with Kohberger, saying, “You don’t deserve our good memories that we have.” Her journey shows the power of turning sorrow over to God, and how mercy and forgiveness can exist even in the depths of such profound tragedy without minimizing loss, but relying on the Savior’s atonement.

Forgiveness in this context is not weakness. It is spiritual courage. The theologian Miroslav Volf wrote, “Forgiveness flounders because I exclude the enemy from the community of humans, and myself from the community of sinners.” Cara’s example shows a powerful refusal to do either.

Justice and Mercy: The Enigma of Bryan Kohberger

Bryan Kohberger—once a 30‑year‑old criminal‑justice doctoral student—admitted guilt in July 2025 and was sentenced to four consecutive life terms without parole, plus ten years for burglary and substantial fines. He declined to offer any motive or speak in court, stating simply, “I respectfully decline.” The judge called him a “faceless coward” and “the worst of the worst.” Reports describe him as emotionally detached—ignoring his sobbing mother and sister as he was led away. Background accounts portray him as someone from a strict household, bullied in youth, who reacted with anger to rejection by peers, especially by girls. 

While these details cannot justify what he did, they reveal a painful personal narrative. They offer a glimpse into the kind of unhealed wounds that, when left unchecked, may evolve into monstrous choices. Like all of us, he had his agency and chose to pass on his pain in terrible ways. 

The Savior’s plan includes mercy for all, even the guilty, as long as they repent and change. If we say we believe in Christ’s power to change hearts, do we dare believe that even someone like Bryan Kohberger could, in some unseen future, choose to turn toward God? 

We do not know whether Kohberger possesses the ability to have genuine empathy or remorse in this life or how he will be judged in the future. While we don’t yet see any evidence of softening, God knows the full picture. Whether he becomes contrite or remains hardened, his fate lies in his choices—and ultimately, in Divine mercy. And while divine mercy is real, so too is the demand for justice—both are essential to God’s plan. 

The Curriculum of Grief

Each person—Alivea, Dylan, Cara, even the parents of Ethan Chapin and others—walks a painful journey of grief and healing. Their trials are unimaginable. As Heavenly Father shapes us, our individual challenges differ: some far greater, some more subtle—but all real. 

Eder Orson F. Whitney explained: 

No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God … and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven. 

Perhaps it is in these moments of moral horror that we most urgently need to believe in a God who sees more than we do—who knows not only what someone has done, but what led them there, and what they might yet become. 

Mercy as a Holy Defiance

In life, we all confront emotional wilderness; how we respond is our sacred agency. We must offer grace and mercy—to others and ourselves—as we navigate sorrow and anger and allow for the full expression of others’ feelings as well as our own. 

Only through the Savior’s Atonement can we find true hope in the midst of pain. He suffered what mortal men cannot bear, enabling Him to succor us with empathy beyond measure. The Atonement is sufficient not just for the innocent, but even for those who’ve inflicted deep suffering—if they turn to Him in repentance. Theologically, mercy is not the denial of justice but its transformation. It is not forgetting, nor condoning—it is a holy defiance of destruction’s final word. In these dark circumstances, we glimpse how essential The Atonement is—both for healing and for justice tempered by mercy.

Toward Softened Hearts 

The Kohberger case reveals extremes of human brokenness and suffering. It also reveals the power of agency—Alivea’s righteous anger, Dylan’s grief and longing for peace, Cara’s forgiveness grounded in faith, and Kohberger’s silent choices. Each response is part of Heavenly Father’s merciful curriculum. None of us would choose such trials, but each teaches something profound: that agency, emotion, and divine love intersect in sometimes terribly painful ways we often cannot completely grasp.

Our collective response to evil is not merely legal or procedural—it is spiritual. It reflects the kind of society we are shaping. Do we believe in the possibility of redemption for victims and perpetrators, even when all evidence appears to deny it?

May we learn to honor the pain of others. May we extend mercy where wounds are fresh. May we trust the Savior’s Atonement as the only sure balm in this life and the next. May we each choose to wrestle with grief, judgment, and mercy—not just to explain them, but to be changed by them.

It is my hope that even in the shadows of such terrible tragedy, we may find courage to believe in Christ’s capacity to heal—and to let that belief soften our hearts, one merciful choice at a time.

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Approximately one hundred people in California are alleging sexual abuse or misconduct linked to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in California courts. If these claims all turn out to be true, that would represent one hundred individual tragedies—one hundred instances of innocence lost and one hundred relationships with God potentially complicated by the grievous actions (or inactions) of leaders. It would reflect one hundred stories of emotional and psychological pain.

Even if some of the cases do not hold up in court or are found to be inaccurate, it is heartbreaking to think that someone might feel so angry or disaffected as to make a false or exaggerated claim against the Church. Whether a claim is true or false, it indicates deep pain for those individuals and potentially serious consequences for the faith community they are accusing.

Responding with Care

As Latter-day Saints who have covenanted to mourn with those who mourn, we have an obligation to respond as best we can to these developments. Responding effectively to disclosures of sexual abuse requires empathy, active listening, and clear, survivor-centered steps. First and foremost, start by believing the survivor—thank them for trusting you and reaffirm that what happened was not their fault. As emphasized by RAINN and the National Sexual Violence Resource Center, a supportive response prevents secondary victimization, where a survivor is retraumatized by disbelief or judgment.

There is a role for recognizing that false accusations exist. But that role is in broader policy conversations and in specific accusations where the legal system is equipped to provide the accused with the presumption of innocence.

Next, listen without pressing for details the survivor is not ready to share. Calmly acknowledge their pain: “I’m so sorry this happened to you. You’re not alone, and I’m here to help.” Validate their feelings of anger, sorrow, or confusion. According to the Washington Coalition of Sexual Assault Programs, avoiding “why” questions and blame is crucial for building trust.

Above all, do not underestimate the healing power of compassion and genuine support. A caring, nonjudgmental environment helps survivors feel safe enough to begin rebuilding their lives. As followers of Jesus Christ this may be our best way to help as the Savior’s hands in moving healing forward. By following these best practices—believing, validating, providing options, and ensuring accountability—you can be a steady source of hope and healing for those who have experienced sexual abuse.

What the Church Already Does

There are established mechanisms within The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints to handle and prevent abuse. 

Their processes start with following best practices in training and policies that prevent abuse. The Church was a leader in abuse prevention, starting regular public sermons on the subject in the 1970s.

The Church’s sexual abuse prevention training is required for everyone who works with youth. Outside groups such as The National Children’s Alliance have recognized the Church’s efforts in this area. 

The Church’s policies, including its geographical boundaries and its calling system, also have the effect of dissuading predators. 

When abuse has occurred, the Church utilizes a helpline staffed by mental health and legal professionals. These are the kinds of professionals that the best research suggests are in the best position to report abuse and result in lower abuse rates. When it is legal, the Church then passes on reports to local authorities. Regardless of the legal situation, the Church then begins to help the victims. 

Statements from the Church indicate that their first priority is providing healing for victims. This often starts with professional mental health counseling. Bishops across the United States have access to networks of therapists that they can utilize, including trauma-informed therapy for abuse survivors. 

Records leaked from church offices several years ago showed that the most frequent first step when victims were identified was to connect them with therapists.

Additionally, the Church has stated that where it or its representatives are directly at fault, it has provided substantial funds for victims’ medical and mental health care. Bishops have access to resources for professional counseling for members who need it, including specialized therapy for survivors. In cases where church leaders are at fault, the Church will work to compensate the victims to the best of their abilities. 

In addition to directed funds, for which the Church’s leaders are responsible, the Church provides financial compensation to help the healing process. Financial payouts can never really repair the damage, but they can help by providing time and resources to help recover. By all accounts, the Church’s offers are generous and well above what would normally be expected.

The Church often utilizes non-disclosure agreements in cases like this. This part of their procedure is controversial. Some see the NDAs as following the Savior’s example of asking those He healed not to broadcast it. Others see these NDAs as cynical attempts to protect the Church’s PR. 

Does the Church Make Abuse Worse?

While the Church’s policies certainly are intended to prevent abuse, do they work, or are there cultural or implementation factors that result in higher rates of abuse among Latter-day Saints?

To the contrary, the best evidence suggests that Latter-day Saints commit sexual abuse at lower rates than the population in general. 

For example, Latter-day Saint troops within the Boy Scouts of America historically had lower rates of documented abuse compared to national Boy Scout averages. While no reliable system can ever guarantee zero incidents of wrongdoing, a review of Boy Scouts’ so-called “perversion files” showed that LDS-sponsored troops constituted roughly 20–30% of overall Scout membership but only around 5% of documented historical abuse cases in that organization. This discrepancy suggests that whatever measures were put in place—such as two-deep leadership or vigilant local oversight—may have contributed to a statistically lower rate of reported abuse.

Recent research suggests that these trends may begin in adolescence when Latter-day Saint teens are less likely to participate in violent behaviors. 

Overall, the best evidence seems to suggest that while Latter-day Saints are certainly not immune from violent or abusive behaviors among their number, there is something about our culture, norms, and policies that make Latter-day Saints an outlier in preventing abuse.

Does This New Lawsuit Mean We Must Reevaluate Our Effectiveness?

While past evidence might suggest that Latter-day Saints are doing well in this space, this newest lawsuit in California might suggest that we need to reevaluate these beliefs. One hundred is an awful lot of sexual abuse cases and may suggest that the problem is considerably more prevalent than previously believed.

And to the extent these revelations prompt self-reflection on how to continue to improve, that would be a welcome result.  

To understand the extent this should revise our understanding, we must understand the context.

The most important context here is that California passed a law allowing victims to file lawsuits within three years, which would otherwise have been too late. So, we would expect a bunch of lawsuits to come forward. 

For example, the Los Angeles Diocese of the Catholic Church faced a similar lawsuit. There, approximately 1900 victims filed suit, at a rate of approximately 43/100,000 Catholics within the diocese.

While cases against school districts are still accumulating, there are some rough numbers. Reports suggest there are a few thousand lawsuits; if that ends up being about 3,000 victims, it would equate to a rate of 50/100,000 students. Many districts are concerned the cases could bankrupt them. 

The 91 suits across California for Latter-day Saints represented 12/100,000 Latter-day Saints within the state—a little less than a third as often. This is about the same comparative rate as seen in the BSA case. 

Essentially, no institution has been spared. Sexual abuse, as disgusting as it is, exists. The fact that it exists among Latter-day Saints should certainly humble us and cause us to continue to seek the best ways to eradicate it. But the fact is that even in this case, the numbers suggest that Latter-day Saints are effective in reducing sexual abuse numbers.

The sad truth is that approximately 1 in 10 adults in the US have experienced sexual abuse in their lifetime. Even if Latter-day Saints were successful in eradicating 99% of abuse compared to other groups, there would still be thousands and thousands of victims. 

What Can We Hope For?

The proper response to these allegations, first and foremost, is mourning. Even if one single Latter-day Saint was abused by someone in the Church, that is a tragedy that demands our empathy and our resolve to do better. The stark reality that an abuser could be a friend, neighbor, or even a trusted spiritual leader is painful. It reminds us that no institution is immune to predatory behavior.

We also hope that justice is served through the legal process, whether that means validating the claims of those who were truly harmed or filtering out any disingenuous lawsuits. The Church has a longstanding track record of responding responsibly in these cases.

None of these points justify complacency. What is needed is sensitivity and support for those who have gone through trauma and vigilance in preventing future abuse. As Latter-day Saints, we also understand that whenever a non-mainstream or “out-group” religion faces such allegations, the public commentary can be harsh. People who already dislike or mistrust the Church may seize upon these scandals as evidence of broader failings. It’s possible we will see sensational coverage or commentary that fails to address how the Church responds or how it compares statistically to other organizations.

In such an environment, we pray that sober, thoughtful journalism will prevail. We also recognize our responsibility as members to do all we can to protect children and vulnerable adults, ensuring no policy or practice inadvertently shelters abusers. That means continuing to refine our safeguarding measures, increasing transparency wherever possible, and emphasizing personal accountability among leaders at every level.

The post Understanding the California Sex Abuse Lawsuit: The LDS Church’s Response in Context appeared first on Public Square Magazine.

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Hulu’s recent series Devil in the Family tells the tragic story of Ruby Franke, a Latter-day Saint family vlogger who seemed to have it all until she was sent to jail for child abuse. Franke amassed millions of followers and more than a billion views on YouTube with fun and relatable videos of her family. But Hulu, armed with more than 1000 hours of Franke’s unseen footage, showed what was happening between the picture-perfect takes that made it to YouTube. It is painful to watch in more ways than one. 

There are things we could quibble with about how Latter-day Saints are portrayed in the series, such as the emphasis on Christ’s Second Coming and statements from church leaders and members, which are taken out of context. But in our conversations with Latter-day Saints, one of the most common themes we’ve heard is how relatable the Franke family seems. It’s easy to imagine Ruby, her (now) ex-husband Kevin, and their six children living on your street, attending your ward. We recognize the neighborhoods, the faith, the cultural pressures. More disturbingly, many Latter-day Saints see Ruby and Kevin in themselves. The resemblance, for some, is uncanny and unnerving. The series raises a troubling question: If this can happen in the Franke family, what can happen in mine? 

We do not think that Ruby’s story is somehow “representative” of Latter-day Saints in Utah or elsewhere. Few Latter-day Saints will go as far as Ruby did. But Ruby’s story provides a useful opportunity for self-reflection and self-evaluation.  As part of that reflection, we explore a few pressures and temptations which are relevant to the Franke case but which also apply to many others, both in the Church and out. Our observations and insights are limited by the information available, and our goal is not to pass judgment but to learn from this cautionary tale.

Perfectionism

One of the most relatable and disturbing aspects of the Franke story is not just the pursuit of perfection but the obsession with the image of looking perfect—happy, fulfilled, wholesome, airbrushed, aesthetic, and flawless. Even a ten-year-old knows the right angle to hold the camera for a selfie. This is not an issue found only in church culture. Western culture breeds it. We just happen to marinate in it in a way that confuses “be ye therefore perfect” with “be ye therefore polished.”

That distinction–seen as perfect rather than being good—matters. 

In a world where so much is being broadcast, or at minimum documented, there can be great pressure to want to look as if “all is well in Zion.” As a public-facing family with a broad audience, the pressure to maintain the image of perfection could feel even more extreme. But we should not let the desire to look perfect overpower our commitment to doing good. 

Perfectionism tends to conflate being righteous with being flawless, an impossible standard that sets us up for unhealthy self-criticism and disappointment. The emphasis on avoiding all mistakes (or at least the appearance of mistakes) can lead us to shame-based coping or discipline strategies. Jodi Hildebrant, Ruby’s friend, therapist, and later business partner, unfortunately, employed many shame-based tactics for behavior change within the Franke family. Despite the pretense that such strategies take misbehavior “seriously,” recent research shows that shame is not very motivating. If we really want to change ourselves or others, we should reach for other strategies. 

There tends to be very little forgiveness or grace in perfectionism. Any minor mistake, any flaw, is magnified to the point where we can no longer see the good in ourselves or others. And when we extend the expectation of perfection to our children, we overestimate our ability to control their behavior as well as their ability to live flawlessly. For example, most parents can relate to the experience of having a child throw a tantrum in a store. We may worry and think, “What do other people think of my parenting?” We mistakenly believe that good parents would not have children who act out in such public displays. However, the truth is that … kids are kids. All humans are imperfect and in a state of becoming. We all make mistakes, we all fall short. But our mistakes and shortcomings do not define us. 

As Dieter F. Uchtdorf has taught, God is not surprised by our mistakes, nor does he relish the thought of punishing us for our fallen nature. He wants us to learn and grow, and that process will include many mistakes: 

“We have all seen a toddler learn to walk. He takes a small step and totters. He falls. Do we scold such an attempt? Of course not. What father would punish a toddler for stumbling? We encourage, we applaud, and we praise because with every small step, the child is becoming more like his parents.” 

He continues:

“I believe in a Heavenly Father who is loving and caring and who rejoices in our every effort to stand tall and walk toward Him. Even when we stumble, He urges us not to be discouraged—never to give up or flee our allotted field of service—but to take courage, find our faith, and keep trying.”

Hildebrant’s counseling approach, which Ruby evidently adopted, distorted religious principles as she taught that “truth” required complete control, rigidity, and perfection. Further, when people fell short, Hildebrant thought the result should be extreme discipline (which became life-threatening in the case of the two youngest Franke children) or cutting off relationships. This is clearly a distortion of Latter-day Saint teaching and practice.

Perfectionism doesn’t allow for inevitable struggles, mistakes, and vulnerability of humanity. It hollows us out, leaving us empty and exhausted in our relentless pursuit of an impossible standard. But Christ does not demand that we be flawless—He invites us to come to Him. His perfection is not a measuring stick for our failure but a gift that bridges the gap between us and our Heavenly Father. Where perfectionism isolates us, Christ’s wholeness connects us. Where perfectionism shames, Christ redeems. When we let perfectionism go, we open the possibility of truly connecting with Him and others. 

Outsourcing Moral Responsibility

A challenge Kevin faced was different, nonetheless just as relatable for many. Early in the series, Kevin says he was very insecure.  He said he was “willing to do anything to keep” his relationship with Ruby, even when this meant leaving home and not contacting his wife or children for an unspecified amount of time. (From what we can gather, it seems that Kevin needed to prove to Jodi that he had changed in order to be let back into the family.)

This, tragically, opened the door to the worst abuse that the Franke children suffered. With Kevin out of the picture, Ruby and Jodi resorted to more extreme methods of discipline and punishment. When Kevin received a call from Ruby on the day the police raided Jodi’s house, Kevin said it was the first time he had talked to his wife in a year.

“A lot of people will look at me and say, ‘How could he ever do that?’ but for those who respectfully ask me about it and say, ‘How could you?’ my response to that is ‘Who do you love more than anybody?’ And I say, ‘Well, what would happen if that individual that you love more than anybody started to go another way and started inviting you and encouraging you to go with them?’ Would you be able to easily say, ‘Goodbye, you’re out of my life?’” 

No doubt, it is a difficult dilemma. Many of us probably would have responded the same way that Kevin did. But it seems that Kevin’s desire to stay connected with his wife overrode his best judgment about his family’s needs and moral responsibility. At one point Kevin said he was “1000% compliant” to what Ruby and Jodi told him to do with the hope that he could save his marriage. This willingness to do anything to preserve a relationship (or what’s left of it) is a dangerous place to be.

In 2 Nephi 2:14, Lehi teaches that God “created all things, both the heavens and the earth, and all things that in them are, both things to act and things to be acted upon.” When we outsource moral responsibility to other people in the hopes of gaining or keeping their approval, we give up our birthright as beings who are free to act. As painful as it may sometimes be, there should be lines that we are not willing to cross—not for our friends, not for our family members, not for people who threaten us with rejection for following our conscience.

This can be difficult because belonging and connection are innate, natural human needs. Family and friends can form the fabric of our lives. We need each other to thrive. At the same time, we must remember the first great commandment: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind” (Matthew 22:37). All other desires or goals are secondary. The desire for approval must not lead us to outsource our moral responsibility.

Following Flawed Influencers 

Finally, it seems that Ruby and Kevin allowed themselves to be unduly influenced by Jodi. The Franke’s (and many others) saw her as special, chosen—someone who had rare access to spiritual wisdom and knowledge. Jodi provided a kind of certainty and “answers” to issues that the Frankes were facing with parenting and life in general. (We note, in passing, that Jodi’s professional license had been suspended beginning in 2012 for unethical conduct. She was not a therapist in good standing when she began to advise the Franke’s.) Tragically, the more the Frankes let Jodi in, the more their lives fell apart.

Reflecting these broader cultural trends, Latter-day Saint influencers have also expanded their reach, amassing millions of followers and using these platforms to share content (hopefully positive) ranging from therapy to homesteading—all through a faith-centric lens. Their growing influence even led to 2024 being dubbed ‘the year of the Mormon women.’

President Russell M. Nelson has addressed the importance of managing our digital consumption and being mindful of online influences. Addressing the youth in June 2018, he challenged them to embark on a seven-day social media fast. He encouraged them to observe how this hiatus could affect their priorities and deepen their relationship with the Savior. Later, he extended a similar invitation to the women of the Church asking them to participate in a ten-day social media fast, emphasizing the need to reduce distractions and focus on spiritual matters. He also invited men to review their online habits in an inspirational call to do and “be better”. The message is clear: the world is full of competing voices vying for our attention, but we can be intentional about what we allow to shape us. We don’t have to be slaves to the algorithms.

It’s also worth remembering the non-digital ways we can influence others. Carol reflects on her own mother’s impact:

She wasn’t famous. Seeking attention wasn’t her way. But she had a unique gift for finding those in need of friendship, welcoming them into our family circle, and right up to our dinner table. In later years, I’ve come to understand more clearly the sadness she carried and the insecurities she battled. She struggled with her image, yet she continued to offer herself—first to bring me and my siblings into the world and then to care for us through a lifetime of devotion.

I can’t begin to count the hours she spent giving us rides to activities, wrangling younger siblings while watching me perform in a play, or with my shaky, squeaky violin in a school orchestra. Then, hurrying home to make dinner (which, to my shame, we often complained about), only to still manage to pull us into folding clothes and keeping the house clean—ensuring it was always comfortable enough for friends to drop by unannounced.

She had one driving passion—one she shared with us, imbuing us with a love for family history. As the only child and only member of the Church in her ancient family line, she breathed life into our ancestral past and inspired me to consider my own legacy.

She fought her battle with cancer to her last ragged breath, not in defiant resistance, but in love.

She didn’t curate a “feed” or seek validation through likes and shares. She simply lived—a life of sacrifice, service, and steadfast love. She wasn’t perfect, and she would be frustrated by any attempt to paint her that way. But somehow, her unseen efforts—those small, daily acts—shaped me more than any algorithm ever could.

My mom built something real, something lasting—she built me.

In a world obsessed with platforms and personas, algorithms may decide what appears on our screens, but we decide whether or not to look. We can seek out influences (digital and otherwise) that are quiet, unpolished, unseen by the masses—but real. We each have agency.

At the very end of Devil in the Family, Kevin reflects on the meaning of his story. He concludes by saying, “Ultimately, it’s a story of faith. If you put your faith in the wrong hands, you can lose everything.” As he says these words, the viewer is flown over a statue of the angel Moroni on the top of an LDS temple. The producers’ implication seems clear: the Frankes trusted their religion too much, and this led to their downfall.

That is not how we would sum up these lessons. What stands out is not just the cautionary tale of a family unraveling under pressure but the deeply personal challenge of self-examination. It is easy to watch someone else’s story and opine about where they veered from their values. It is far more difficult to be honest about where we might be doing the same.

If we care more about reflecting God’s image than curating our own, we will be less tempted to mask our struggles with a performance of perfection. If we have the integrity to act in ways that align with our values—even when it’s inconvenient or unpopular—we will be less likely to hand over our moral responsibility to others. And if Christ and His teachings are our greatest influence, we will be less susceptible to the voices that would distort, manipulate, or diminish our ability to truly love and lead.

The devil gets in where there is pretense, where there is self-deception, and where there is fear. But where there is truth, integrity, and divine influence, he has no foothold. That is the lesson worth taking from this story—and it is one of faith.

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