The Politics of Religious Apostasy

[_beastie]

Chapter 8
Apostates, Whistleblowers, Law, and Social Control
James T. Richardson

This is an interesting essay with more pertinent citations. He is exploring the previously mentioned fact that although there is correlation between the type of organization and the type of leavetaker, there are some exceptions to the rule. He first states that it is reasonable to assume that most people who leave the organization voluntarily will be simple “defectors”, who just “leave and go on with their lives”. However, there are “examples of the adoption of apostate and whistleblower roles by voluntary exiters, some of which will be discussed therein.” (p 171)

The examples of voluntary exiters becoming apostates and whistleblowers usually involve something dramatic happening that sours the participant on the group and its leaders in a somewhat rapid and dramatic way. However, as scholars have noted, what appears dramatic and rapid may actually have been developing over a period of time, with some event then becoming the proverbial “straw that broke the camel’s back.”

The apostate and whistleblower roles may also develop from circumstances of “extraction”; this is more likely to occur with organizations in high tension with the external environment. Bromley (Ch 2 this volume) refers to these organizations as “Subversive” in a very specific sense: they are perceived and labeled “Subversive” by oppositional groups as a tactic for status degradation that legitimates implementation of extraordinary social control measures. Some research, such as that by Solomon and Lewis and Bromley shows that deprogramming is actually a form of radical resocialization that sometimes results in the deprogrammee adopting a quite negative perspective toward the former group of membership. Indeed, deprogrammers might define development of this negative perspective as a successful deprogramming. It is instructive on this point that a number of prominent deprogrammers have themselves been deprogrammed, sometimes quite dramatically. Thus deprogramming has sometimes resulted in a person changing from devoted member to avid apostate and even whistleblower, as he or she acts out a new role of deprogrammer (or “exit counselor” as some now prefer to be called.) (p 172)

Apparently, given Juliann’s latest comments, it is necessary once again to explain the term “Subversive” in the specific sense it is used in this text: “they are perceived and labeled “Subversive” by oppositional groups as a tactic for status degradation that legitimates implementation of extraordinary social control measures.”

The label “Subversive” has nothing to do with a moral judgment on the part of the author’s, or on my part when I utilize it. It has to do with how the larger host society views the NRM. That view may well be inaccurate, or it may be accurate. The view has been developed by the intentional actions of the oppositional coalition who wants to escalate social concern about this group in order to put pressure on social groups to exert external social control on the NRM in question.

This chapter will examine the role of apostates and whistleblowers in exerting social control over controversial new or minority religious groups, especially examining the role played by apostates and whistleblowers within the legal arena as part of social control efforts. As the examination proceeds, the issue of the derivation of apostates and whistleblowers will also be addressed, in an effort to better understand how apostasy and whistleblowing develop within the context of the world of newer and smaller faiths.

SOCIAL CONTROL OF DEVIANT RELIGIOUS GROUPS

Social control in the context of minority religious groups refers to attempts to exercise formal or informal authority over these religious groups, including efforts by governmental authorities as well as by private parties. Such efforts often involve legal or regulatory actions, but also may include use of media and other means to assist in constructing certain definitions of minority religious groups that facilitate exertions of social control over the groups.

Former members of controversial religious groups often play a major legitimating role in efforts at social control. They can claim to have been eye witnesses to key events, and can offer interpretations as an insider of the group of former membership. As such, the disaffected former members are apostates, playing the role of whistleblower, with claims to unique knowledge about the inside workings of a given religious group.

These claims can be thought of as “atrocity tales”, or unique “accounts” in the technical sense of those terms used in sociology. Atrocity tale is a concept developed by Bromley, Shupe and Ventimiglia which refers to events that flagrantly violate some fundamental cultural value and which evoke moral outrage to the extent that social control actions against the group perpetrating the event are warranted. Apostates acting in the role of whistleblower can claim to have seen or participated in events, while a member, that meet the definition of atrocity tale, and their account of what happened can legitimate social control efforts. (p 173)

I share this to, once again, demonstrate the context in which the term “apostate” and “apostate narrative”, along with the embedded “captivity” and “atrocity” tales are used in this particular text. The point of the oppositional coalition is not simply to share negative information about the NRM, but rather to influence the opinion of the larger host society. If there is enough concern in the host society about either the NRM as a whole, or one specific activity in particular (this is explained more later), then pressure can be applied to regulatory units to step in and intervene. This is the goal of the oppositional coalition. This is why “atrocity tales” are needed, and only apostates who offer such atrocity tales can be utilized. That is why the pressure exists for apostates who want to be used by such groups to modify their stories accordingly.

Accounts are functional for those proposing them, and they can have a major self-serving element. Apostates’ accounts also may serve the interests of those trying to discredit such groups, and thus such defectors can achieve a position of prominence with organizations opposed to certain religious groups. This confluence of interests of anti-cult movements and apostates from new religions is often a key feature in legal battles that attempt to exert social control over new and minority religions, and the apostate qua whistleblower often plays a lead role in such battles. (p 173)

Once again, the context demonstrates that apostates are used by oppositional coalitions – apostates do not constitute the entire coalition. Moreover, they are used with a specific purpose in mind.

Social control of deviant religious or political groups is dicey business, however, particularly in a society that values free expression. Effective social control requires authorities willing to exert official authority and a populace willing for that to happen (assuming, of course, that the populace is aware of the effort at control). Neither of those elements is automatically present, but must be engineered. (p 173)

This sentence is very relevant: Neither of those elements is automatically present, but must be engineered.

It is in the engineering of those elements that the apostate narrative is utilized, and pressure applied to make sure that tale fits the specified parameters.

There are times when the accusations are so outrageous that it is easy to engineer these elements, the author point out, as is the case with allegations of child abuse. And, of course, sometimes these elements and values change over time. Richardson points out that when certain communal groups such as the Moonies began recruiting in the late 60s and early 70s, the host society was not automatically negative in its reaction to aggressive proselytizing. In fact, they were sometimes praised for keeping kids off of drugs and giving them a moral purpose. But as time went on, social opinion changed and proselytizing was “redefined as ‘stealing children’”, and they were accused of actual brainwashing techniques.

Most of the commentary regarding engineering social elements in order to persuade regulatory units to intervene has focused on Subversive organizations up to this point. Richardson makes the salient observation, however, that sometimes Contestant organizations can be vulnerable but the focus is normally on one particular practice that is seen as dangerous by mainstream society, instead of the entire group, such as is the case with a Subversive organization. One such example is the practice of the Christian Science group to counsel their members to avoid medical intervention, even with their children. In the past this was viewed as a more benign practice, but as some notorious cases gained public spotlight, the attitude has changed towards this practice. So although the Christian Science group is not a Subversive organization as the term is utilized in this text, it is Contestant in that this one particular practice has opened the door to the creation of oppositional coalitions determined to get the government to intervene in behalf of children whose health is endangered, according to these oppositional groups.

Of course, often the government will not intervene, in which cases private groups attempt to address the perceived need for social control. This was already seen in the phenomenon in which, once the government would not intervene supportively in the brainwashing allegations, the niche was filled instead with private counselors.

Some social control efforts are private in nature, even if they receive great attention from the general public. That is, they involve private citizens who feel strongly enough about something to spend their time and resources trying to change a situation that allows the activity in question to occur. In the history of controversial religious groups some of the most ardent critics have been former members of some of the groups. When former members adopt such a critical stance and act on their views they easily fit the definitions of apostate-turned-whistleblower that informs this collection. Some of those strong critics have become involved in dramatic activities, including deprogramming and whistle-blowing-type claims that have provoked official action against the groups. Motivations are not always obvious in such instances, but what is clear that sometimes former members devote their lives to efforts at social control. They may spend large amounts of time educating media representatives, governmental officials (including those in law enforcement), and others about the alleged evils of a group.

Such self-help social control actions are given impetus when official authorities cannot or will not take action that some detractors think is warranted. (p 176)

Note again, the context these remarks: this is more than vocal critics of a NRM; this is a group of individuals who want the state to intervene and exert some form of control over the group (or over one particular practice in the group). If the state refuses to do so, self-help groups may try to fill the niche. Normally, most of this is originated in opposition to the “Subversive” groups, although, as noted with the Christian Science example, one particular practice could be targeted in a Contestant group. (or even an Allegiant group, as with the child abuse scandal and the catholic church)

Richardson goes on to provide examples from the Church Universal and Triumphant which was, of course, accused of brainwashing and ended up in legal courts. The same was true with his next example, the Unification Church taken to court. His Hare Krishna example followed suit, as did the example from the Children of God, who had been accused of wide spread child abuse. The Contestant example was the previously mentioned Christian Science practice of avoiding medical treatment, even for their children.

Efforts at social control by authorities may be validated by whistleblowing-type claims made by ex-members, and self-help social control efforts by ex-members can be tacitly sanctioned as well, because of claims some former members are willing to make. Some claims are more obviously factual than others (a claim based on the fact that a child has died has more concreteness than a claim that someone was “brainwashing,” for instance), but even if such claims are not borne out after investigation, the claims can still be very disruptive for the groups involved. (p 184)

In trying to make a case that exmormons on groups such as RFM fit this model, I suppose one could claim that the group is pointing to, in general, a deliberate act of deception on the part of church leaders who choose to hide certain problematic information from members. This, of course, is difficult to prove, although Mauss seems to feel it is valid:

Interestingly enough, however, the Tanner case, by its very singularity, illustrates the difficulty in maintaining visible apostate careers when a successful movement like Mormonism moves increasingly in the Allegiant direction. Although modern Mormonism certainly has its enemies, they are no longer numerous or powerful enough to constitute a large oppositional market for products like those of the Tanners. Indeed, from the viewpoint of Mormon leaders, perhaps the most vexing uses of the Tanner materials have been by those curious subscribers within the Mormon fold (or marginal to it), who simply want access to controversial documents and information that the leaders themselves try to keep out of circulation! Yet the Tanners have earned a certain grudging respect in Utah for their sincerity and integrity. Although they sometimes use inflammatory rhetoric and naïve reasoning, they have usually substantiated their claims carefully, and they have avoided tabloid scandal-mongering for its own sake (unlike Ex-Mormons for Jesus). Furthermore, the Tanners were among the first to suspect fraud in Mark Hofmann’s “discoveries” of certain debunking “historical documents” from early Mormonism, and to say so publicly. (p 63)

But to try and build a case that exmormons are attempting to exert “social control” seems rather far fetched. Instead, they seem to be engaged in whistleblowing activities outside the connection with an “apostate narrative”.

Richardson states that all type of exiters can occur in all types of organization, but the examples he provides from Contestant organizations specifically address one particular practice, not the entire religious organization, such as the Christian Science example.

For instance, a persona may, after observing some major breach of ethics by a leader or experiencing some traumatic event not covered adequately by a group’s theodicy or practice, become disillusioned, leading to apostasy. This apostasy might come to the attention of other groups in conflict with the original group of membership (such as anti-cult organizations). Such opposing groups could cultivate the apostate, seeking to turn him or her into a whistleblower. (p 186)

Once again, context is crucial to understanding. What other groups are in conflict with Mormonism other than exmormons themselves, and the already mentioned anti-cult ministries? Mormonism is simply not that controversial within the larger society anymore, although it certainly once was.

This process of “courting apostates” deserves more attention than it has been given. Plainly, one might predict that such a process would be more prone to develop in situations involving strong oppositional groups. This leads to the prediction that groups more in conflict with the values of the dominant culture (“Subversive” according to Bromley) would be more prone to experience the whistleblowing phenomenon. But, ‘apostate courting’ might also occur with traditional groups, usually on specific issues. (p 186)

One of Richardson’s footnotes is revealing in regards to the nature of Subversive groups:

1. Another variable of import in this process is communal versus non-communal, which may be related to the typology developed by Bromley. As Richardson, van der Lans, and Derks note, the three major types of leaving – voluntary exiting, extraction, and expulsion operate differently, depending on the type of organization (communal or non-communal) the participant leaves. And the labeling that takes place, both before and after the leaving event, and the accounts of the leaving that are developed by major parties vary in terms of type of organization. The greater the tension with the external environment (ie, the more “Subversive” a group was perceived) the more leaving such a group would be conducive to the development of contradictory and dramatic labeling and accounts. (p 186)

This is another demonstration of what I’ve been saying: the Subversive groups tend to be ones that actually remove its members from the larger society and hence creates the need for an “atonement” for the act of joining the group in the first place, as well as the assurance that it won’t happen again and the individual wants re-entry into traditional society. Although certainly the LDS church “separates” families in the eternities, and in certain situations like temple weddings (when nonLDS or unworthy LDS are not allowed entry) but it certainly is not comparable to what is being discussed in this text.

[_beastie]

Objections that "apostates" are not necessarily representative are met by the fourth stage of the model. "Cults" or "sects" are not religions. They are not because they use brainwashing, while religions are by definition joined out of free will. We know that they use brainwashing because we rely on the testimony of "victims" (i.e. "apostates").

This demonstrates the point I've been trying to make - when these sociologists are discussing the charge of brainwashing, they are talking about the actual, deliberate technique engaged in to remove free will from the subject. They aren't talking about the social pressure and training that all societies and parents place upon their children (although certainly some groups place more pressure than others), and it is misleading to use these brainwashing statements made by the sociologists and to try and apply them to the more generic use of the term (which Juliann has done in the past).

[_beastie]

Chapter 9

Apostates and Their Role in the Construction of Grievance Claims Against the Northeast Kingdom/Messianic Communities
Susan J. Palmer

While this is an interested study on one particular group (although I think the author was wrong when she asserted that this was the “one of the first religions in the US to be accused of collective child abuse, and to endure a mass raid on its children”, as I recall such a raid being enacted on the Fundamentalist LDS in the fifties, I believe). The Northeast Kingdom Community Church was accused of collective child abuse due to its theologically based belief that children should be disciplined upon if they fail to obey on first command. The controversy was in regards to whether that discipline was abusive. It demonstrated the typical characteristics the other authors have described. At any rate, I am not sharing particular citations from this essay due to its specific nature, focusing on just one group, not larger generalities.

Chapter 10

The Role of Apostates in the North American Anticult Movement
Anson Shupe

Shupe begins by, again, defining “apostate”:

The apostate role is understood to be one in which a person exits, either voluntarily or involuntarily, an unconventional or “new” religious group or movement (hereafter NRM) and then becomes an outspoken, visible critic of the latter. Moreover, such persons are understood to represent an important resource for any countercult, anti-cult, or oppositional movement seeking to soil the identity of specific religious groups. (p 207)

Once again, using the term in the specific manner utilized in this text, it is not enough to simply be a vocal critic of the former religion; one must also be a resource for other oppositional groups. The reason this is also an important component is due to the fact that it is the oppositional coalition that provides the pressure to make sure the apostate narrative conforms to certain parameters, in order to provide ammunition for the group’s goal of some form of social control over the group.

Shupe states it even more clearly here:

Chapter 2 of this volume approaches the entire cult-anti-cult struggle as one in which contested organizations (a category into which many new religious movements fit) possess relatively little power vis-à-vis social control agencies. This minority status lends defectors from such (largely) unpopular movements a degree of leverage with interest groups representing the family, the polity, the media, and established religious denominations. Specifically, such defectors obtain their credibility and legitimacy, not necessarily because their negative accounts of life within given groups are “true” as portrayed (though they may be), but because they serve the propaganda/discrediting needs of countergroups. This is the primary social role of the apostate: he or she literally constitutes a countermovement resource. (p 210)

Shupe gives modern examples as well as nineteenth century examples from Mormon history. The Mormon church, in its early years, was no doubt a “Subversive” organization as these sociologists use the term. Hence, the different groups listed above were interested in the group and utilized sensationalized accounts of former Mormons to justify their case for legal intervention (which at times were successful). The oppositional groups are not comprised primarily of apostates, but rather need the apostates as eye-witnesses.

Shupe describes the evolution of the apostate role in the ACM in particular, which is a demonstration of the oppositional coalition.

Wave I

The earliest wave of apostate “literature” and apostate activities, in the broadest sense, emerged largely out of print journalism at a time when ACM groups were the most decentralized and, as grassroots efforts, precarious. Parents of offspring, deprogrammed from such groups as the Hare Krishnas, the Children of God (now The Family), the Unification Church, and the Divine Light Mission, often called impromptu press conferences or contacted local newspaper reporters who then interviewed the apostates, the latter eager to tell their dramatic stories of captivity and rescue while they reconciled with their families. Wire services helped disseminate these atrocity tales, which in turn had the latent function of alerting disparate local aggrieved families and groups that similar apostates and ACM groups existed elsewhere. In this way, the ACM as a national movement, with identity and common goals, began to coalesce out of local movement cells. Susan Palmer discusses the role of such apostate accounts in energizing the opposition to the Northeast Kingdom Community Church.

One additional tangible result of the apostates’ testimonies was to help mobilize at least some (if limited) symbolic response by government officials, such as the 1976 hearings held in Washington DC by Robert Dole. Yet while such testimonies crated a general cultural climate of suspicion toward the broad coterie of groups labeled “cults”, little substance as far as successful repression of NRMs came of apostate accounts during this first wave. The cases discussed by Hall and Richardson are the exceptions that prove the rule. (p 21)

Wave II occurred during the 1970s and included a short period of intense publishing interests in regards to apostate “exposes”. But the ACM did not change structurally during that period.

Meanwhile, the faith in apostates’ atrocity stories held out the elusive hope that some “god from the machine” via governmental agencies, outside of the poorly funded and sometimes poorly managed ACM groups, would somehow intervene on the basis of horrific testimonies.

Ironically, at about this time the public value of apostate testimonies was declining. The ACM’s various social movement organizations were steadily professionalizing at the leadership levels, high-educational backgrounds pushing out lower-educational ones. Groups such as the American Family Foundation found less direct use for apostate testimonies in their publications, even if such accounts were still important internally to reinforce movement legitimacy. (p 213)

Note once again the important context: the groups had a goal: some sort of intervention, preferably governmental, that would control the NRMs.

Wave III

The third wave of “cult” apostasy witnessed a decline in media interest in apostate and reliance on their accounts by ACM organizations, along with these persons’ gradual withdrawal from the limelight of public attention. This curtailed exposure suggests a diminished utility of apostates to the ACM brought on by several factors: (p 213)

The proposed factors include transitory media focus, declining shock value of repetitive apostate narratives, general public disinterest, and general ACM disinterest. Even more, Shupe states that the changing structural development of the ACM resulted in this disinterest. The changing structural developments were the “(1) institutionalization of the ACM as a somewhat permanent part of the religious scene in the late twentieth-century North America, and (2) the professionalization of much of the ACM’s leadership.” (p 214)

It is in this context that Shupe noted that the earlier Wave/generation of anti-cultists were “volunteers, and they operated their organizations on an ad hoc “mom-and-pop” storefront basis.” (p 214) However, realizing that the government was not going to intervene in the fashion they desired forced the group to evolve.

Thus, the dual processes of institutionalized and professionalization, which created career opportunities for a number of types of degreed persons, and the collapse of naïve expectations that government intervention on a massive scale would occur any time soon, left less of a place at the table for the enthusiastic, if shrill, voices of apostates. They had helped mobilize movement activists in the early days of the ACM, but they increasingly were serving no important function to sustain the countermovement. (Moreover, their atrocity stories were continually being undermined by mainline social scientists who reported field research results on a variety of groups and found few of the egregious atrocities claimed.) Apostates’ horrific accounts originally stimulated the most desperate of remedies, coercive deprogramming, but as deprogramming as an ersatz therapy became discredited by both civil liberties advocates and mainline behavioral scientists, their accounts ceased to be so valuable.

More in line with conventional therapeutic counseling modes, “exit-counseling”, or voluntary deprogramming, became the norm and subsequently produced fewer angry apostates for the ACM to parade before the media. A few apostates went on to capitalize on their ex-member/victim status and develop careers as apostates. One example is ex-Unificationist Steve Hassan. Hassan earned a master’s degree in counseling psychology and became a licensed mental health counselor in Massachusetts. He went on to write Combating Cult Mind Control: the #1 Best-Selling Guide to Protection, Rescue, and Recovery from Destructive Cults and became active as a lecturer, consultant, and exit-counselor.

Finally, it must be remembered that NRMs themselves evolved, providing less fodder for the ACM and fewer angry apostates, deprogrammed or otherwise. NRMs’ members aged, married, became parents, and ceased to live communally or fundraise in the old, objectionable ways. NRM lifestyles, in the terms Shupe, Busching, and Bromley used to analyze NRM-ACM conflict, shifted from the conventional end of the continuum more toward the contractual end, which eased the tension between the movements and countermovements. IN sum, the apostate role by the end of the twentieth century, for this particular countermovement, had either become largely irrelevant or had evolved to accommodate to the ACM’s own established structural status. (p 215)

Similar statements could be made about the evolution of the LDS church and its own career apostates of the nineteenth century. The LDS church made accommodations by abandoning the practice of polygamy and establishing a more mainstream lifestyle. Hence, the reduction and current rarity of the “apostate” as the term is used in this text.

[_beastie]

Chapter 11
Carriers of Tales: On Assessing Credibility of Apostate and Other Outsider Accounts of Religious Practices
Lewis F. Carter

In my opinion, this is the best chapter of the book. It begins by stating it is not uncommon for groups to be accused of inappropriate behavior, and it is sometimes challenging to figure out exactly what has occurred.

Although some claims of inappropriate behavior, sometimes even potentially criminal behavior, are dealt with by external authorities, it is often difficult for potential converts, civil authorities, and researchers of religious movements to assess these claims. Part of the difficulty lies in the sources of such claims, usually outside observers (sometimes hostile or defensive ones), dissatisfied prior members (or near recruits), or representatives of civil authority. On the other side, defenders of specific religious groups (particularly members, leaders) will usually contest any potentially damaging claim. (p 221)

Due to the fact that all the potential sources have their own biases, Carter suggests that it is necessary to use a methodology that considers various sources.

It is important for us to distinguish between the content of the claims about the characteristics and practices of a group, the relationships of our sources for those claims to the group, and negotiations or reformulations of claims which may occur when our sources work with other organizations. Zablocki distinguishes sources of information about religious groups into “believer”, “apostate,” and “ethnographer” accounts. Focusing on comparisons of believer and apostate accounts, he demonstrates that, on the aggregate, there is very little difference between the reliability (that is, stability across time) of accounts from believers and ex-believers (or apostates). The validity picture is a bit more complex. Believers (current practitioners) were found to be more likely to minimize or ignore negative traits in a community. Not surprisingly, apostates (ex-believers or ex-practioners) were more likely to identify negative traits which the group did not in fact exhibit. Zablocki contends that ethnographer accounts, written from the perspective of an outsider, usually augment direct observation with considerable reliance on both believer and apostate accounts, and he argues that triangulation – using an number of data sources with differing perspectives – is essential for offsetting the inherent biases in reports from the different frames of reference. In addition to these, researchers also sometimes gain insights from documentary evidence of various kinds, as well as narratives and evidence compiled by “opponents” of religious groups and by officials of various kinds. While the negative motivational bias of opponents may be taken as a given and some of their narratives amount to little more than unverified atrocity tales, nevertheless, information assembled by opponents is sometimes quite specific and subsequently verifiable; this is especially true of financial records, incorporation papers, court cases, and other kinds of documentary evidence which some opponent groups will collect in dossiers that sometimes reflect considerable technical skill. (p 222)

Imagine! Actually admitting that sometimes accounts from former believers may actually have validity!!

The horror, the horror…

The researcher’s dilemma is that each source of information – of believers, apostates, ethnographers, and opponents – has different strengths and weaknesses. Active members are especially well positioned in terms of firsthand knowledge of the practices of a group, while at the same time being most motivated by both perception and by group pressure to emphasize positive aspects of those practices and to censor damaging perceptions. Apostates, or those exmembers who have taken leave from a group, may be as well positioned as current members in terms of knowledge, but their perceptions are more likely to be equivocal or negative. We shall contend later that both members of and apostates from hierarchical groups well may vary considerably in terms of knowledge about the group, and for this reason it is crucial to know the respondents’ location in the group and the degree of access which they have had to inner circles. A skillful and committed opponent may know more about some limited aspects of a hierarchical group than will a lower-echelon member. Professional ethnographers will supplement their direct observations with information from all of these sources, and we will develop an argument suggesting that ethnographers may be seen in some ways as “serial apostates”, in that their frames of reference will vary through time – with an emphasis on emic (or internal) definitions when in the field setting, and more emphasis on comparative and etic (or external) definitions when back in the academy. Given these obvious strengths and weaknesses associated with the credibility of accounts from these sources, researchers conclude that some form of triangulation employing both believer and apostate accounts (as well as direct observation, opponent data, and documentary evidence) may be essential for valid reconstruction of the practices and actions of religious groups. (p 223)

Wow! Imagine that! Believers have their own issues with validity. Hmmm. Who woulda thunk it. They minimize or ignore negative issues! Why, never!!! And opponent groups may actually have respectable collections of reliable information! Heaven forefend, what is the world coming to??

Teasing aside, this is all quite obvious, isn’t it? Everybody has a bias of some sort that has the potential to color his/her accounts. Testimonial narratives seem to follow a standard narrative formula as much as apostate narratives. The source of the narrative, alone, is not a reason to automatically believe or discredit the content. It takes a little more energy than that to figure it all out.

What is special about “believer” accounts then is a matter of knowledge, motivations, and context in which narratives are constructed. Believers are insiders, who are positively disposed toward a group, usually avidly so, whose accounts usually are given in the presence of (or with likely access by) other believers. Such narratives are often intended to justify membership which may involve some degree of sacrifice and often the accounts are intended to attract others. Such insiders share some special knowledge of the group, its beliefs, official practice, and actual internal practice, which will not be so readily available to outsiders. However, “apostates” (those who have abandoned the claim to belief) will have as much knowledge of the internal workings of a group as any current practitioner (member in good standing) to the degree that the apostate previously attained a comparable level of membership. To the degree that the ethnographer penetrates, participates in, and is accepted by a group, he or she many have knowledge of the internal workings of a group equivalent to, or exceeding, that of many members. (p 225)

None of this surprises me, but perhaps it will surprise some who seem to think that the mere fact of leaving the LDS church means one is stricken with general amnesia and is a totally unreliable source regarding the practices and beliefs of the church.

There are also distinctions that must be made in terms of access to information in regards to the type of organization. Hierarchical organizations are the ones most prone to having discrepant layers of accessible information, based on one’s position within the hierarchy. The other end of the spectrum is equalitarian/undifferentiated groups, wherein knowledge is generally accessible without regard to status. In addition, the pressure from respective groups are the strongest in hierarchical organizations, so bias is a considerable factor. It seems clear to me that the LDS church is a hierarchical organization. In hierarchical organizations, we “should expect to learn a great deal more about some facets of a group from an apostate who was once highly placed than from a current believer who is less so.” In addition, especially “in reclusive hierarchical groups, believers will be strongly motivated to avoid the appearance of criticizing the group. As Rajneeshpuram was shutting down, lower- and middle-level residents reported having been most concerned that any expression of “negativity” would result in their expulsion. Finally, where groups are sufficiently isolated and regimented to control access by outsiders, believers have little opportunity or motivation to explore their beliefs with outsiders. Consequently, consistent and collective narratives are regularly enforced. The later discussions of ethnographic practice suggests that this collectively reinforced frame of reference not only influences members, but can exert a powerful influence on the perceptions of the ethnographer-in-field. (p 226)

While I do not consider the modern LDS church to be a “reclusive hierarchical organization”, there is little doubt that there is quite a bit of pressure applied to members to not criticize leaders.

Bromley uses the term “apostate” to designate ex-members who develop an association with other groups, often those of the anti-cult movement (ACM) and that assumed role involves negotiation of their accounts, usually shaping those accounts in special ideological directions which may be summarized as “captivity narratives”. I use the term “apostate” in the less specifically role-related sense of one who has (or appears to have) abandoned a belief, faith, or cause. Bromley’s observations concerning the positive interdependence of the anti-cult movement and “career apostates” should caution us especially about how accounts of such “leavetakers” may be shaped by the desire to be accepted by opponents of the group in which they were a member (just as narratives of current practitioners are shaped by their desire to maintain a good impression of themselves within the group of which they are members). Further, the relationship between informants and journalists, law enforcement agencies, and yes, even academic researchers, can shape the narratives jointly produced in their interviews (or interrogations).

Role theorists tend to focus on what I termed earlier “career apostates,” persons who assume an active role in the anti-cult movement. While acknowledging that “career apostates” constitute a particularly important variant of the more general “leavetaking” because of the role they play as resources for the anti-cult movement, focusing exclusively on those who have made a career of their apostasy would give a distorted view of both those members who subsequently disaffiliate and the processes by which they come to leave new religious movements.

Bromley’s analysis of apostate narratives reveals recurrent themes of victimization and coercion, likely shaped at least in part by some of the circumstances of their exits. Such factors may include explanations for their previous affiliation, often in conflict with preferences of earlier family and friends, justification for actions which they may now see as undesirable, the effects of “deprogramming” (or re-programming) experiences, and conditions for retaining the attention of the anti-cult movement, media representatives, or publishers.(p 227)

When Juliann first offered select citations from this book in order to support her theory (which was vaguely stated, but seem to consist of a justification for stating that apostate narratives, which she did not distinguish from exmormon narratives, are unreliable), we had an extended argument about the meaning of the word “career” in the context of these citations. While admittedly handicapped at the time due to not having the text, I was able to find lengthier citations that supported my suspicion that the authors did, indeed, intend the word “career” to mean a full-time job of avocation, supported by the anti-cult ministries. Since obtaining and reading the book other citations that also use the term seem to have the same general meaning of a full-time job or avocation. The fact that “career apostates” are linked to anti-cult groups that use them as a “resource” seems also to support this interpretation, along with the citations I provided earlier that talk about how the professionalization of ACM has pushed out career apostates.

The problem with defining apostates solely as those ex-members (or exbelievers) who have taken on a career role, is that it would lead researchers to minimize the especially valuable potential of those apostates who do not do so. As ex-members, apostates are especially well positioned in terms of knowledge, as well as possibly some elements of motivation. Zablocki’s finding that reporting errors were fewer for respondents with “moderate” rather than “extreme” attitudes towards their groups, regardless of whether or not they were believers, or ex-believers, should be comforting to researchers who are willing to seek out the moderate ex-members (and members), for the former may have “insider” knowledge coupled with an “outsider” detachment. There is also a caution here, since the realities of field research are such that “extremists” (believers and apostates) may be both more visible and more available to researchers than are “moderates”. (p 228)

Of course, the problem with some of this is that moderation tends to be a subjective judgment. I have been informed by Juliann that I am the “one of the biggest critics” of the LDS church. Yet I view myself as having rather moderate views on the LDS church. I am extremely critical of some of its claims, such as claiming the Book of Mormon is an ancient document from ancient Mesoamerica (or ancient America), and the claim that revelation is a reliable method of obtaining information. On the other hand, I do not believe that the LDS church is particularly aberrant in terms of the evolution of religions in general, and I disdain the notion that the LDS church is connected somehow with Satan or condemns its adherents to hell fire and damnation. I do not believe the LDS church is a good psychological “match” for all people, but then, neither do the “liberal” LDS. But I have no doubt that Juliann perceive me as some sort of “extremists”. (I say anyone who thinks I am an extremist has had a fairly sheltered life, but then I have my own bias.) Juliann, in one of her responses to these summaries, suggested that I have somehow changed my views conveniently, just for this thread. Yet that is not true at all, and searches of my past comments reveal that. However, Juliann has never let evidence interfere with her generalizations, so I don’t expect her to do so now. I certainly agree that moderates on either side of the equation are likely more reliable sources of information, I am just noting that is a very subjective determination.

Carter next discusses the difficulties facing even the ethnographer in regards to retaining objectivity. To be able to even begin the thought processes of the believer, one has to immerse oneself in the belief system, which lends its own tendency to bias.

Finally, Carter discusses “opponent groups” which is a separate category from “apostates” (something some people do not seem able to process), although they may utilize apostates.

Narratives of opponents of religious movements are often dismissed from academic discourse, except perhaps as objects of analysis. However, the contemporary anti-cult movement, as well as somewhat less organized opponents of specific groups often have considerable investigative resources at their disposal. Many opponent groups develop substantial archives of legal documents, incorporation papers, public records, and financial documents. To be sure, these archives are selectively (often admittedly) constructed to emphasize negative aspects of the groups studied. The sophistication of new religious movements, and of their opponents, has developed to the point where both attempt to influence journalists and academic researchers. Further, both groups read what is written about them and their interests, and both groups will utilize academic writings about their position as ammunition in their cause. There are now two forms of feedback between academic discourse and the political discourse surrounding religious groups. First, some groups will modify their strategies after reading of the problems encountered by other groups. Second, religious movements and their opponents will provide information to researchers, and if this information is published in a form which is desired by the group, will cite the analysis as “objective” corroboration in hearings and other formal proceedings.

The norms of academia make us reluctant to believe or to disseminate negative facets of controversial groups, yet some groups do move beyond the pale of legal or academic tolerance and researchers should examine opponent claims with some seriousness, while recognizing the motivations and pressures which shape opponent data collection and archives. (p 229)

Note also Mauss’ earlier comments about the Tanners actually being appreciated, even by many believers, for providing access to historical documents that individuals would not otherwise have access to.

Carter demonstrates his point with a case study. The Rajneeshpuram commune was accused by apostates and oppositional groups of having shipped in large number of homeless people to inflate voting populations in order to swing a local election, and were also accused of having contaminated local salad bars with salmonella. Research actually proved that these accusations were, in fact, true.

In his summary, Carter again states that each possible source of information has bias but also has potential to be reliable. He suggests attempting to resolve this confusion by the use of “triangulation’, in which all the evidence provided from various sources are taken into consideration.

Finally, the most useful triangulation does not involve a mere summing (subtracting or averaging) of narratives taken from different frames of references or informants with different motivations, but rather constructing a coherent overview of a movement or tradition which makes sense of the disparate narratives by relating and evaluating their content in some common frame of reference. We should not automatically assume that a narrative is trustworthy or not because of the type of informant. (p 234)

I can’t really think of a better ending for this long summary than that one sentence:

We should not automatically assume that a narrative is trustworthy or not because of the type of informant.

[_beastie]

http://www.mormonapologetics.org/index. ... opic=14738

Politics of Religious Apostasy

Juliann:

We regularly hear the conversion narratives that sustain the myth of the "courageous" apostate who is only searching for "truth" while willing to suffer all sorts of indignity to follow his/her "conscience" in order to "help" others. In their eagerness to "inform" and "help" they are oblivious to the fact that deconversion follows a natural history as surely and consistently as conversion does.

The word "apostate" is not mine and it is a designation that is not limited to religion. It is used by sociologists and describes one set of behaviors that we would designate as "anti-Mormon" ... meaning there is active opposition to the church that distinguishes the "apostate" from the average person who simply does not believe a certain set of teachings but does not devote any time or energy to fighting those teachings or believers. I do not want to get into personal discussions as to which poster is an "apostate" as opposed to a "defector" or "whistleblower". We have plenty of public figures to discuss.

Citation:
The apostate role is typically not only the most acrimonious of the three types, but in its fullest sense it requires an external, oppositional organization or coalition to embrace the apostate and to lend credence and legitimacy to the typical “captivity narrative” explaining both the erstwhile affiliation and the eventual departure of the apostate.
Armand L. Mauss “Apostasy and the Management of Spoiled Identity,” The Politics of Religious Apostasy: The Role of Apostates in the Transformation of Religious Movements, ed. David G. Bromley (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers), 52.

Each and every behavior we have seen on these boards is stereotypical to the point it can be analyzed and sorted out as typical social behavior by those who study social groups. In fact, from what I am reading it is actually external events that determine how the individual will react not a lonely quest for "truth" or justice or whatever the lastest popular version of the conversion narrative is (which is also constructed by others for the most part.)

The problem with this assertion is that it completely ignores a couple of very essential points, within the model provided in the text:

1 – Although there are exceptions, which tend to prove the rule, it is largely Subversive organizations that produce apostates
2 – the Captivity Narrative’s primary purpose is to explain why the person abandoned “normal” society, including family and friends, to join the Subversive organization in the first place
3 – the Apostate narrative is ‘constructed by others’ in that the oppositional coalition, which is comprised not primarily of apostates but other groups who want to apply pressure to regulatory units to step in and control the NRM, and thereby it desires “atrocity tales” which will arouse public concern and hence apply the needed pressure.

It would be very difficult to actually read Mauss’ article and not recognize these crucial elements. The paragraph immediately preceding the citation Juliann offered, in fact, explains the correlation between type of group and type of exiter.

Yet Juliann broadly applies this to “each and every behavior we have seen on these boards”. There are several contradictions and problems with making this sort of generalization, based on the given citation, totally removed from its larger context.

1 – Mauss specifically states, in the same essay, that the LDS church is no longer considered a Subversive organization:

An especially good example of this complexity from American history is the Mormon Church, which possessed all the classic characteristics of a Subversive organization throughout the nineteenth century but underwent an accommodation with American society throughout the twentieth, or at least until the later decades of the twentieth, when some evidence began to emerge in the church of a deliberate retrenchment policy intended to recover some of the lost tension with the surrounding society. Late in the twentieth century, the Mormons (like the Catholics) would thus probably fall on the Bromley continuum somewhere between Allegiant and Contestant, perhaps closer to the latter; another way of describing the situation might to be to view the Mormons as more Allegiant for some purposes and Contestant for others. (It should be emphasized here that we are discussing a North American setting; virtually everywhere else in the world Mormons would still be at the Subversive point on the continuum, or perhaps in Latin America, somewhere between Subversive and Contestant.)

The history of exiting from the Mormon Church seems to parallel the changing history of its relationship with American society in about the way that one would expect from the conceptual framework discussed above. Nineteenth century Mormon history is replete with tales of colorful apostates in the full Bromley sense, exiters who left under conditions of great stress and acrimony into the waiting arms of a thriving anti-Mormon enterprise. These apostates, of course, provided wonderful grist for the mass media mills of the time and were highly influential in shaping and maintaining the subversive national image of Mormonism. Perhaps predictably, mass apostates tended to occur during periods of special crisis for the church, just prior to each mass migration, of which we shall have more to say later on. (p 53)

2 – Exmormon narratives do not normally delineate a “captivity tale” at all. For one thing, the vast majority of exmormons were born in the faith. They never made the decision to join a Subversive organization and hence, leave behind betrayed family and friends. While exmormons may claim to have been “brainwashed” by family and church leaders, it is clearly using the word in an entirely different sense than the ‘brainwashing’ that Subversive organizations are accused of doing.

3- Exmormons are not associating with an external “oppositional coalition” that is trying to create a climate in which pressure will be applied to regulatory units to intervene and attempt to control the NRM (or the Mormon church).

Perhaps Juliann is correct in her assertions, but she is being misleading by pretending that she is correctly attributing the meaning of the Mauss citation within her comments.

Her next post:

If anyone can cull quotes from the more prolific countermos on the internet that are a perfect match to these quotes that would be even more compelling.

Citation:
Any kind of discrepancy carries also a threat to the individual’s “self-authenticity,” in Weigert’s terms One way of dealing with such threats is to change reference groups, so that the thoughts and acts felt as discrepant in the original religious community are resolved through verification and authentication in the new oppositional context; such also provides the collaboration and support which will help the apostate (or whistleblower) create a retrospective account of his or her career.

Armand L. Mauss “Apostasy and the Management of Spoiled Identity,” The Politics of Religious Apostasy: The Role of Apostates in the Transformation of Religious Movements, ed. David G. Bromley (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers), 58-59.

The "apostate" I am talking about will have the organization backing...either the cult ministries or RFM type groups. There is no difference although they like to think there is.

Once again, Juliann has taken this citation completely out of context. This citation was preceded by Mauss discussing that the very act of joining the Subversive organization carries a stigma, on top of the new stigma (from those within the Subversive group) when he/she exits the organization. But upon exiting the organization, the individual is seeking to reenter “normal” society. Hence, the need for “atonement”, an explanation for joining the Subversive organization to begin with – the captivity tale. The reason that the identity is “spoiled” is due to the fact that Subversive organizations remove the individual from normal society, normally in a communal setting. The convert abandons former family, friend, career, education, and his/her entire identity revolves around the NRM. When this is lost, of course it creates a need for a new identity.

Contrast this to modern Mormonism. It does not remove converts from normal society. Although specific families may disown someone who converts to Mormonism, it’s relatively rare in North America (the setting of the comments of the book). But the additional problem is that Mormonism has been around long enough that the vast majority of exiters were born in the faith to begin with, and the family’s feelings of betrayal arise when the individual leaves the church, not joins it.

The second problem is the “organizational backing”. This is the “oppositional coalition” that was talked about repeatedly in the book, always in conjunction to the “apostate narrative”. It is not a group comprised of other “apostates”, like a group such as RFM. RFM would fit under the “support group” talked about elsewhere in the book. But it is the oppositional coalition, made of people who have never been members of the NRM but have concerns over the group for various reasons, that requires a certain “narrative” to fit their purpose, which is the goal of arousing social concern to the point where pressure is applied to regulatory units to step in and control the NRM. This is clearly not a reasonable description of RFM.

The anti-cult groups do fit the definition, and in fact, are THE oppositional coalition mentioned over and over in the text. Of course, that is problematic for Juliann, who wants to create a theory that embraces “RFM” types as well as FAIR/MAD critics, so she simply expands the theory in a manner that the authors do not give support.

Next post:
Juliann:

It is a necessary part of "self-authenticity." Remember...this is just not a countermo thing. This happens to every person who leaves something on these terms...it can be a business, a club, a political party....

citation:
Apostates may pursue a variety of strategies to solidify their careers: consolidating their experience and acquiring credentials that support a more permanent social niche; reconstructing their position and experience within the organization, particularly status inflation, so that their testimony becomes more valuable in sanctioning the organization; modifying the narrative content so that it appeals to the specific interest of one or more elements of the oppositional coalition; and embellishing the narrative so as to maintain niche viability, particularly when the existence of a cohort of apostates creates role competition.

David G. Bromley, “The Social Construction of Contested Exit Roles: Defectors, Whistleblowers, and Apostates,” The Politics of Religious Apostasy: The Role of Apostates in the Transformation of Religious Movements, ed. David G. Bromley (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers), 38.

The sentence immediately preceding Juliann’s citation, and, in fact, part of the same paragraph was:

“Protracted conflict between the organization and oppositional coalition creates opportunities for extended apostate careers.”

This was immediately preceded by the discussion that demonstrated the connection between the Subversive organization and the oppositional coalition, and the need for apostate narratives. The authors in this volume are very clear on a point that Juliann completely disregards – that is that the reason apostate try to shape their testimonies is to accommodate the oppositional coalition which wants to use their testimony as an atrocity tale in order to apply pressure to the larger host society to control the NRM.

Obviously this makes no sense in trying to apply it to modern Mormonism, unless one is talking about the anti-cult movements. But Juliann is specifically attempting to broaden this generalization to RFM type groups, and has done so on her own, without support from the text she claims supports her assertions.

That’s enough for tonight.

[_Ray A]

These are just my personal reflections. From what I've read from the quotations given by beastie, sociologists like Bromley have given a paradigm, but one which has some exceptions. The "apostate narrative" they describe is clearly designated to people like Hassan. That narrative is one influenced by pressure, or a need to explain involvement in the first place, and a subsequent narrative that justifies/explains both entry and exit, and a "how could I have been so silly?" explanation. Sometimes it involves the "I now believe in the real Jesus" scenario, or theological justification. For BIC Mormons the entry phase has no meaning, though it should be considered that in some cases physical/emotional threats may have been leveled at BICs if they departed, though in a minority of cases in regard to possible physical abuse. Polygamy Porter was a case of physical abuse taking place to exert pressure and conformity. So we can't deny that physical abuse is a component of conformity in some cases.

RFM does occasionally experience dissenting exmo posters who question extreme views. (I should know, as I was one.) This occasional schism is not indicative of typical "apostate narratives", which are crafted by pressure from the "organizational opposition", or ACMs. However, RFM will only remain an "outlet" for dissent and criticism as long as posters who question extreme views remain, and do not give in to pressure to conform to certain views. For example, one RFM poster may think the church should be destroyed, while another may think this is crazy. It's that healthy disagreement or dissent which distances exmos from the crafted "apostate narrative". I know for a fact, for example, that Simon Southerton does not hold the view that the church should be nullified, but "reformed". Obviously because Southerton sees some good in a "defanged" Mormonism. Yet, his view is still "apostate" to TBMs, even offensive, and greeted with skepticism from many exmos as well. As long as RFM has dissenters, even if only a small minority who don't conform to the "orthodoxy" who hold such views, it cannot fit the typical "apostate narrative" defined by Bromley. It is also not "organizational". This, by the way, is no defense of RFM on my part. However, deep and even "irrational" anger by individual posters on RFM does not constitute the absolute make-up of the board, because of occasional dissenting opinions, which do not meet the criteria of the "apostate narrative" as defined by Bromely, et al.

However, I do define RFM as "semi-organisational opposition" to the church. I understand that its purpose is "recovery", but "herd mentality" demonisation of individual Mormons tends to be exceptionally irrational, and can foster "conforming apostate narratives" to some degree and by "esprit de corps" pressure, which could stifle individual opinion in the "less compliant". But let me not let Mormons off the hook. Some of their demonisations of the Tanners as "bigots" and "hating Mormonism" is so wide of the mark that one wonders if they ever read the Book of Mormon. It's hard to see anything even resembling the "love of Christ" in some of these condemnations. One might accuse them of as much hate as they accuse RFMers.

My feeling is that categories do not help us much. I have been guilty of this in the past, but I'm prepared to reconsider all the facts, and listen to what exmos have to say (because it's been so long I've been "out", and really any anger has left me). The legitimacy of a view is not based on a constructed narrative produced under pressure, of any kind, and narratives free from conformity to any orthodoxy, Mo or exmo, are the most powerful ones. They have far more legitimacy.

[_beastie]

Hey, Ray,

Thanks for wading through all of this with me!!

These are just my personal reflections. From what I've read from the quotations given by beastie, sociologists like Bromley have given a paradigm, but one which has some exceptions. The "apostate narrative" they describe is clearly designated to people like Hassan. That narrative is one influenced by pressure, or a need to explain involvement in the first place, and a subsequent narrative that justifies/explains both entry and exit, and a "how could I have been so silly?" explanation. Sometimes it involves the "I now believe in the real Jesus" scenario, or theological justification. For BIC Mormons the entry phase has no meaning, though it should be considered that in some cases physical/emotional threats may have been leveled at BICs if they departed, though in a minority of cases in regard to possible physical abuse. Polygamy Porter was a case of physical abuse taking place to exert pressure and conformity. So we can't deny that physical abuse is a component of conformity in some cases.

Yes, and certainly emotional abuse/pressure is a component in some cases as well, although much more ambiguous and difficult to define. This can occur on both sides of the equation, however, so it seems to be a neutral variable.

RFM does occasionally experience dissenting exmo posters who question extreme views. (I should know, as I was one.) This occasional schism is not indicative of typical "apostate narratives", which are crafted by pressure from the "organizational opposition", or ACMs. However, RFM will only remain an "outlet" for dissent and criticism as long as posters who question extreme views remain, and do not give in to pressure to conform to certain views. For example, one RFM poster may think the church should be destroyed, while another may think this is crazy. It's that healthy disagreement or dissent which distances exmos from the crafted "apostate narrative". I know for a fact, for example, that Simon Southerton does not hold the view that the church should be nullified, but "reformed". Obviously because Southerton sees some good in a "defanged" Mormonism. Yet, his view is still "apostate" to TBMs, even offensive, and greeted with skepticism from many exmos as well. As long as RFM has dissenters, even if only a small minority who don't conform to the "orthodoxy" who hold such views, it cannot fit the typical "apostate narrative" defined by Bromley. It is also not "organizational". This, by the way, is no defense of RFM on my part. However, deep and even "irrational" anger by individual posters on RFM does not constitute the absolute make-up of the board, because of occasional dissenting opinions, which do not meet the criteria of the "apostate narrative" as defined by Bromely, et al.

One of the problems in discussing RFM with many believers is that they do not seem willing or able to make these distinctions. Long ago I shared a story of a schism within the RFM community that demonstrates this schism (this was many years ago and there may have been subsequent divisions and changes since then, but I haven't kept up to date on it all, partly because some of this takes place behind the scenes to which I am not privy). In the (for lack of a better word) steering committee, which was formed when it became obvious that RFM was growing into an entity beyond the capacity of desire of one person - Eric - to maintain and control (in fact, a committee had to take it over else he would have dismantled it, it had become so enormous and time consuming) - it became apparent there were two opposing views of "the church". Both sides agreed that the LDS church is not what it claims to be, and that the "truth claims" connected with its origination were either delusional or fraudulent, but one side viewed the church as a dangerous entity that needs to be 'taken down', and the other side disagreed. Sure, some portions of LDSism are arguably unhealthy (like patriarchy and anti-homosexuality and past minority views that still have tentacles) but that can be said for any other religion, as well. Besides, "taking it down" isn't a realistic goal even if that were persuasively the best goal (to which they didn't agree either). So the groups actually divided. RFM remained under the domain of the more moderate group. I'm not sure what happened with the other one. But that's the steering committee that actually divided - the RFM board still remains a place where both viewpoints can be expressed.

And the entire reason both viewpoints can be expressed (and attacked) is that RFM is not associated with an external group which is an alliance of other groups who want to increase tension between the LDS church and the host society in order to influence the host society to intervene. Now it's possible that some of the folks on the "take it down" side would be quite happy to join such a coalition (although they wouldn't be happy to join one that is religiously based like ACM, and I don't know of any others that exist), and then that group would apply uniform pressure. But that is not the current situation.

However, I do define RFM as "semi-organisational opposition" to the church. I understand that its purpose is "recovery", but "herd mentality" demonisation of individual Mormons tends to be exceptionally irrational, and can foster "conforming apostate narratives" to some degree and by "esprit de corps" pressure, which could stifle individual opinion in the "less compliant". But let me not let Mormons off the hook. Some of their demonisations of the Tanners as "bigots" and "hating Mormonism" is so wide of the mark that one wonders if they ever read the Book of Mormon. It's hard to see anything even resembling the "love of Christ" in some of these condemnations. One might accuse them of as much hate as they accuse RFMers.

Oh, it is certainly is an organization that is in opposition to the church. But it isn't joined in alliance with other groups who have the goal of provoking regulatory intervention, and that is a crucial distinction that appears to have been entirely lost on Juliann.

I do believe that Eric Hoffer was absolutely correct when he stated that there exists such a thing as "True Believer", whose belief is so deeply enmeshed within self-concept that it is not possible for that person to react rationally when it concerns that belief. And I believe that True Believers exist on both sides of the aisle. That is a point I made very early on in this discussion with Juliann, and instead of dealing with that specific point - the existence of True Believers and True Apostates, and it is likely the True Believer who became the True Apostate - devolved into a general criticism of Hoffer (including the inane attempt to shut down the thread because he talks about Nazis in his book). in my opinion, those are the demonizing folks on both sides of the aisle, and they are also the folk who do not seem to be able to appreciate, or even notice, the varying degrees and shades of differences in the "opponent". They're all some nameless mass, and the sins of one can be pinned to the entire group.

My feeling is that categories do not help us much. I have been guilty of this in the past, but I'm prepared to reconsider all the facts, and listen to what exmos have to say (because it's been so long I've been "out", and really any anger has left me). The legitimacy of a view is not based on a constructed narrative produced under pressure, of any kind, and narratives free from conformity to any orthodoxy, Mo or exmo, are the most powerful ones. They have far more legitimacy.

I struggle with whether or not it is even possible, except with certain unusual individuals, to get beyond this tribal response, because it seems to me that on any of these boards, the extremists end up dominating. I wonder why I even bother, if there is any point to it (beyond the interesting observations of human nature it presents). The only group I know of that ever was able to maintain this sort of approach was the old Folks of the Fringe, but the problem was that we were so few in number, and knew each other so well, there was very little left to discuss.

I view myself as a moderate because, although, as you well know, I do not believe any of the church's foundational truth claims are based in reality, I do recognize that life is complicated and demanding, and sometimes religion is a good vehicle to help people maneuver through life. I do not mean that in a belittling "crutch" sort of manner, either. But I waver on this issue, and could probably be convinced that religion, in any sense, is handicapping to mankind (a la Dawkins) I just can't make up my mind on this issue, and am beginning to think I never will. But the extremists on both sides are incapable of recognizing fine distinctions such as that. They just have a knee jerk reaction when any comment "sounds like" something. How many times did SL Cabbie, on RFM, accuse me of a being a closet believer?? Too many to keep track of. And yet, according to Juliann, I'm one of the church's biggest critics. Neither are able to recognize the distinctions.

[_beastie]

More responses to/from Juliann:

Juliann repeated:

The apostate role is typically not only the most acrimonious of the three types, but in its fullest sense it requires an external, oppositional organization or coalition to embrace the apostate and to lend credence and legitimacy to the typical “captivity narrative” explaining both the erstwhile affiliation and the eventual departure of the apostate.

Armand L. Mauss “Apostasy and the Management of Spoiled Identity,” The Politics of Religious Apostasy: The Role of Apostates in the Transformation of Religious Movements, ed. David G. Bromley (Westport, CT: Praeger Publishers), 52.

It is nothing short of bizarre to see Juliann continually referring to this citation as if it supports her assertions. Of course, the only way to find out it does not is to read the book oneself. What she has done is latched onto the term “external, oppositional organization or coalition” without digesting exactly what that phrase clearly means throughout the entire book.

Note again the examples Mauss provides:

Examples of outright apostasy in the Bromley sense are not so easy to find in the twentieth-century Mormon church. To be sure, one still sees dissent aplenty, and even some major sectarian schisms in this century. Since the historical tension between the church and the society has largely dissipated, one might expect fewer actual apostates. Yet the tension has by no means disappeared, so we should also expect to at least some celebrated cases of whistleblowers, as well as plenty of mere leavers (defectors). Furthermore, as a destination for potential apostates and whistleblowers, there remains a visible anti-Mormon enterprise, not only in the US but in Europe, somewhat in parallel to the Cult Awareness Network (which itself certainly makes room for anti-Mormons as well as anti-cultists). This anti-mormon enterprise is found partly in specialized organizations like Ed Decker’s “Ex-Mormons for Jesus,” but it is also to be found in certain congregations, or even in entire denominations, of the evangelical Christian spectrum. Any dedicated Mormon apostate or whistle-blower can find places to turn for aid and comfort. Yet, even so, there does not seem to be the proliferation of apostates that occurred in nineteenth-century Mormonism, at least not if we are referring to those who achieve careers as exponents of anti-Mormon organizations. ( p 63)

The few times Juliann has hinted that she recognizes a discrepancy between “oppositional coalition” as used in the text, and her application of it to groups such as RFM, she simply categorically states that she seems them as one and the same, without offering a shred of support from the text that she is justified in doing so.

Now consider this citation from Bromley:

Once outside the organization, defectors are most likely to seek a transition into a new social network. The post-membership career therefore is of limited duration and directed at stabilizing personal life and reconstructing personal identity. To the extent that the former organization was the source of a distinctive lifestyle and identity, there is inevitably a period of instability as individuals find themselves between identities, and the former identity colors current identity- building efforts. The defector is faced with a negotiated exit agreement that renders personal opposition problematic, and in any event the absence of pre-existing oppositional groups significantly restricts the political and economic opportunity for a former member career. In some cases former members form ex-member support groups that operate to facilitate the period of role transition for others, and limited ex-members careers may be fashioned through administering such groups. (p 29)

I think it is clear that RFM would not constitute an “oppositional coalition” but rather an exmember support group. Whether or not one believes it is meeting a valid need is, of course, an entirely different question. It seems that Bromley, at least, recognizes such a need.

Juliann makes it clear that she is not creating her own theory, but rather is simply sharing the theory of the sociologists she cites.

Juliann

First, I am not the one talking about it. Researchers and experts are. Now if you disagree...provide some documentation.

Researchers and experts are talking about it, but not in the manner you suggest, Juliann.

I offered Roger Loomis’ explanation for why exmormons don’t simply leave the church with a shrug:

http://zarahemlacitylimits.com/RogerLoomis1.htm


The church was established by people who left the false churches they found themselves in favor of what they believed to be the truth. Throughout the church's history, the sacrifices that Mormons have made for what they believed to be the truth should be held in reverence by all.And that is what Mormonism is all about.The church itself isn't a culture that was passed on to us that we pass on to others. It is an expression of what we believe is the fundamental nature of truth and reality. We value the truth so much that one of the main missions of the church to proclaim the gospel to anybody who will listen. We make huge sacrifices to convince the world that we have a better way.In a sentence, Mormons believe more than anything else that the truth matters. It matters so much that we have to be willing to leave economic well being, friends, family, and even our religious heritage to embrace it. It matters so much that we must leave the comfort of keeping our beliefs private and proclaim them to those who see things differently.We see then that people who leave the church but don't leave it alone aren't fighting against the culture and ideals in which they were raised. Rather, they are embracing it--they are honoring the integrity of the true believers of the church throughout its history by actively living and preaching the truth that they see.



Juliann’s reply:

Besides a very strained apologetic, this is an excellent example of this consistent behavior cited above

citation:
Apostates may pursue a variety of strategies to solidify their careers: consolidating their experience and acquiring credentials that support a more permanent social niche; reconstructing their position and experience within the organization, particularly status inflation, so that their testimony becomes more valuable in sanctioning the organization; modifying the narrative content so that it appeals to the specific interest of one or more elements of the oppositional coalition; and embellishing the narrative so as to maintain niche viability, particularly when the existence of a cohort of apostates creates role competition.

Juliann’s additional comments.
He certainly did not leave Mormonism with that narrative. There is an element that likes to think they are doing "good" and need to self-authenticate. Loomis is appealing to this element. He certainly did not leave Mormonism with that narrative...it was carefully crafted which is why it sounds so...crafted.

What I see with the apostates who form or join these followings is that they mirror the development of new religious movements...including the really poor apologetics that they all begin with. Mormons have the advantage of always having had the dogs nipping at their heels so to speak....we have been pushed to improve to the point we are heading off to graduate schools. Apostate groups are wayaaayyy behind in this...think of us as returning the favor.

Once again. What “oppositional coalition” was Roger “modifying” his narrative for? I am at a loss, because if we’re talking about the context of the text from which this citation was obtained, then the “oppositional coalition” is comprised of various groups of individuals, who by and large have not been members of the group, who are extremely concerned about the NRM and wish to escalate the tension between the NRM and the host society, in order to pressure the host society to enable regulatory units to control the NRM.

Roger stated that exmormons care about sharing what they perceive as the truth about the LDS church because they were brought up in a culture that valued truth. The idea that this is a crafted statement that an oppositional coalition will utilize in order to pressure the host society to control the NRM is nothing short of ludicrous.

It is also nothing short of bizarre for Juliann to categorically state that “he did not leave with that narrative. It was carefully crafted which is why it sounds so.. crafted”. I had similar thought processes to Roger’s while contemplating leaving the church or remaining a marginal member despite my lack of belief. I opted for the former because it was important to me to have integrity in terms of what I had determined to be true and not true. This is not a crafted narrative, constructed to give a coalition group the ammunition it desires.

If only “heading off to graduate schools” had helped Juliann deal with the text she refers to as her authoritative source.

In her next post she proclaims:

A religious group is a social group. All social groups follow the same patterns. Mccue can see this with one group but fails to understand he is part of the human race and subject to the same influences. The particular belief system you hold is irrelevant.

Citation:
Any kind of discrepancy carries also a threat to the individual’s “self-authenticity,” in Weigert’s terms. One way of dealing with such threats is to change reference groups, so that the thoughts and acts felt as discrepant in the original religious community are resolved through verification and authentication in the new oppositional context; such also provides the collaboration and support which will help the apostate (or whistleblower) create a retrospective account of his or her career.

No, Juliann, this citation is not supporting your assertion that “the particular belief system you hold is irrelevant” at all. The citation you offered is embedded within a larger text that clearly states that:

The focus of analysis in this volume is the role of apostates in the controversy surrounding those contemporary new religious movements that are deemed “subversive”. Both “apostate” and “subversive” have very specific meanings here. The analytic category “subversive” is used in this volume to refer to organizations that are perceived and labeled “subversive” by oppositional groups as a tactic for status degradation that legitimates implementation of extraordinary social control measures. The typology of organization and corresponding exit role types identifies apostasy as a unique social form that emerges under very specific social conditions. Apostate refers not to ordinary religious leavetakers (the general referent) but to that subset of leavetakers who are involved in contested exit and affiliate with an oppositional coalition. The number of individuals playing this role in any given conflict may not be large; indeed, in a number of movements one or a small handful of individuals have dominated this countermovment niche. The role is distinguished not by the number of individuals occupying it but rather by its recurrence in situations of intense conflict to countersubversion campaigns.
(Bromley’s introduction)

The development of the “apostate narrative” and its accompanying “captivity tale” is completely dependent upon certain variables being present. There are exceptions, but they prove the rule. The variables are that the organization is viewed as subversive and dangerous by the host society. Another variable is that an oppositional coalition exists comprised of various groups with the goal of heightening the tension between the NRM and the host society with the goal of pressuring the host society so it will enable formal regulatory units to control the NRM. This oppositional coalition needs “atrocity tales” in order to heighten the already existing tension.

So, within the context of this particular text, the particular belief system you hold is entirely relevant, at least in terms of its political power within the larger society, and whether or not a countermovment/countersubversion campaign is targeting it.

[_beastie]

The previous post was dealing with discussion from the previously linked FAIR thread, the original one where Juliann proposed this theory.

The following are Juliann's current replies on the MAD thread dealing with this subject:

Juliann’s replies:

This just gets better. Beastie is busily exceeding Fair Use on ZLMB in her zeal to give everyone the sections of one book that she wants them to see. Meanwhile, she is leaving out very important parts. And that is the usual method.

Juliann, I invite you to share the important parts I am leaving out. I am quite serious about that. You see, the reason I cited so much information is due to the fact that, upon reading the book, it became quite apparent that you had left out very important, even crucial, parts. Whether deliberate or accidental, that is also your usual method. I always suspected something wasn’t quite “right” about your use of the quotes from this text. Since the topic is interesting, I was motivated to read the text. It was an interesting book, and I encourage others to read it. But my “usual method” is to back up my accusations – you left out important parts, I provided those parts and explained why they were important. Now it’s your turn. You have taken a couple of stabs at it below, but they’re pretty lame.

First, she wants everyone to think that one expert, Bromley, speaks for everyone. That is a good example of the woodenly literal readings countermopologists have to engage in to keep everyone in line.

This is nonsense. What I have said is that the other authors in the book referenced Bromley repeatedly and were obviously using his model. Do you deny this? How does this become “speaking for everyone”? This is a good example of the sleight of hand that “mopologists” use in the hopes of convincing uninformed readers that “countermopologists” are being deceptive.

Again, it would be a good idea to actually use one of my own statements to back something like this up. But that is not your style. You make accusations without the slightest interest or attempt in backing them up.

she quotes pg 19 to demonstrate that none of Bromley's apostate theory could possibly be associated with Mormonism. But look what she leaves out from the same page:

"While I am primarily concerned with apostasy from new religious movements (NRMs), a comparable analysis could be undertaken of apostasy in a variety of other social movements or institutional contexts."

How in the world are you interpreting this??? He is stating that while his primary interest is in the RELIGIOUS arena, it could be utilized with nonreligious movements or institutional contexts. He’s not saying that his definition of “Subversive” groups would no longer be when “an organization is in a high state of tension with its surrounding environment”, he is just saying that organizations OTHER than religious ones could also be in a state of high tension with its surrounding environments, and hence, produce “apostates”.

I really do not understand what you think that sentence meant, that you think it somehow refutes my point: Mormonism is not in a state of high tension with the host society.

If this is an example of the “very important” parts I left out, you are in sad shape.

Further, what Beastie cannot allow her readers to know is that Bromley, on pg 20, explains Coser and Scheler and then explains that he is going to take a different perspective. Now, if we follow Beastie's methodology, that will not be allowed! Once Beastie picks an expert...there will be no others, no changes and certainly no interpretations other than hers. Nor will those experts be allowed to speak again. Mauss does not exist or teach classes. He is only words on a page. This again is a textbook example of how countermopologists ply their trade.

For one thing, Juliann, you were the one who picked this particular text, not me. You repeatedly used citations from this text to support what you claimed was not YOUR theory, but the theory of scholars. This was your primary source, but it appears you are having problems with it now.

Back to the text:
He states:

Coser, following Max Scheler, defines apostasy in terms compatible with the argument to be developed here. He writes, the apostate is not simply one who has experienced a dramatic change in conviction; rather the designation refers to a “man who, even in his new state of belief, is spiritually living not primarily in the context of that faith, in the pursuit of goals appropriate to it, but only in the struggle against the old faith and for the sake of its negation.” Coser and Scheler adopt a social psychological orientation to apostasy, but their emphasis on former beliefs and commitments and the continuing implications of the past relationship for subsequent behavior goes to the heart of the matter. I shall take a broader, more structural perspective, analyzing apostasy as a specific social form that is constructed and supported only under very distinctive social conditions.

How does this refute my argument??? Why would I “not want readers to know” this? Coser and Scheler define apostasy in a way compatible with Bromley, but they focus on the social psychological aspects, while Bromley is focusing on sociological and structural aspects.

Yes, Juliann, that negates all of my points, and, dear reader, I deliberately HID it from you. Drat, I’ve been OUTED!!!

Beastie/Seven/Trixie can obsess on Bromley all she wants. I will be dealing with various models and continuing with the crime of using other scholars.

It seems to me that you are conceding that Bromley doesn’t, after all, support your own model. That’s fine. He doesn’t. Now if you are going to use other models and other scholars, try to make sure that they actually do support what you are saying as well. I caution anyone, however, who reads your arguments to remember how fundamentally you distorting Bromley and the other authors in this book to serve your purpose.

All I ask is that you be responsible with your sources, Juliann.

But...just for fun, do all of the countermos here agree with Beastie that the Mormon church is a mainstream normal kind of thing? Are you willing to drop the accusations of brainwashing, deception, control and all of the other favorite verbs?

What is amusing about interacting with you is how often you do the exact thing you accuse others of doing: decide that one word can only mean one thing. Remember, this was your accusation against me regarding the use of the word “career” in your citations… ironically, it appears I was actually correct in what that word meant in the context it was used.

Now you have decided that the context of certain phrases do not matter. If the word “brainwashing” is used by the scholars in Bromley’s text, then if exmormons also use the phrase it means the same thing. You can only conclude this by deliberately ignoring the clarifying context.

The brainwashing referred to in the Bromley text is describing the actual, formal process of engaging in “mind control” with individual through certain practices: sleep deprivation, repeated chanting, restricted diet, intense attention in a short amount of time, etc. This type of “brainwashing” totally removes free will in that it makes the person a sort of obedient robot. I have never seen an exmormon use the word “brainwashing” to connote this actual process, often suspected of being used by communists and cults in the past (before largely being scientifically debunked). Exmormons are using the term to refer to the intense social programming that LDS believers inculcate in their children.

This article explains the different uses of the term (and why it is nearly a meaningless term due to these various uses)

http://skepdic.com/mindcont.html

The above considerations should make it clear that what many people consider mind control would best be described by some other term, such as behavior modification, thought disruption, brain disabling, behavior manipulation, mind-coercion or electronic harassment. People are not now being turned into robots by hypnosis or brain implants. Furthermore, it should be obvious that given the state of knowledge in the neurosciences, the techniques for effective mind control are likely to be crude, and their mechanisms imperfectly understood.

Thus, if we restrict the term 'mind control' to those cases where a person successfully controls another person's thoughts or actions without their consent, our initial list of examples of what people consider to be mind control will be pared down to just five items: the tactics of religious, spiritual, and other New Age recruiters; the tactics of husbands who control their wives; the Stockholm syndrome; the so-called brainwashing tactics of the Chinese inquisitors of American prisoners during the Korean War; and the alleged creation of zombies in Voodoo. The last, however, can be dismissed as based either on fraud or on the use of drugs to render people helpless.

The Bromley text, which I think I adequately demonstrated in the citations I offered, utilizes the term to mean “controls another person’s thoughts or actions without their consent”. This is the accusation made against the NRM in the past. This is what has largely been since debunked as a genuine phenomenon.

Exmormons are not using the word in that manner. They are using it to mean “behavior manipulation” and the use of intense propaganda.

I honestly do not know if Juliann understands the difference between the two meanings. I do know that she will ignore the differences and continue to insist that the exmormon use of “brainwashing” is the same thing as what the Bromley text refers to.

If Juliann were interested in actually obtaining information, instead of simply pretending, against all evidence, that her previous use of the Bromley texts was appropriate, what she should really ask is this: “Do you agree that the Mormon church is no longer in a state of high tension with the larger host society?”

Juliann:

(quotes me)
Obviously this makes no sense in trying to apply it to modern Mormonism, unless one is talking about the anti-cult movements. But Juliann is specifically attempting to broaden this generalization to RFM type groups, and has done so on her own, without support from the text she claims supports her assertions.

States:
That's odd. I've put up at least two quotes supporting the opportunities that the internet has provided in creating new coalitions. Hmmmm....but if Bromley doesn't say it at one particular time in one place...it doesn't exist? More Beastiology? Let's try some methodology instead.

Citation:
One of the most common observations about religious movements is the diversity they exhibit organizationally and the rapidity with which they change.

David Bromley, “A Tale of Two Theories: Brainwashing and Conversion as Competing Political Narratives” in Misunderstanding Cults: Searching for Objectivity in a Controversial Field, eds., Benjamin Zablocki & Thomas Robbins (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 2001), 322.

Just what new coalitions have been created, thanks to the internet? What other groups are exmormons forming alliances with in order to increase the tension between Mormonism and the host society in the hopes of pressuring formal regulatory units to take action?

And how in the world does the statement that religious movements are diverse organizationally and rapidly change support your assertion that new coalitions have been formed between exmormons and other opponent groups thanks to the internet?

What has really happened is that exmormons are forming groups with other exmormons, thanks to the internet. Sadly, that does not help your case.

Beastie might want to consider that when scholars have written one book the thinking hasn't stopped. This brings us back to the corner Beastie is herding the countermos into. I am going to be interested to see if they will follow.

I relied on the Bromley text due to the fact that you not only relied on the Bromley text, but you insisted that respondents not try to engage “you”, but what the scholars were saying. The problem you now face is that the same citations and references you attempted to use to bolster your own personal theory can be demonstrated to actually NOT support your own personal theory. Make no mistake, Juliann. This is YOUR theory. It’s not Bromley’s theory, it’s not Mauss’ theory, it’s not Richardson’s theory, it’s Juliann’s theory.

But the fact that you are now retreating to the idea that even if the text you used in the past to support your theory doesn’t really support your theory, the “thinking hasn’t stopped” and other scholars do support your theory, demonstrates that even you have gotten the point.

So who is now in a corner? Who is now tacitly admitting defeat in that the essays in the Bromley text don’t really say what Juliann claimed they were saying? How inconvenient it must be for you, Juliann, the one in the corner, when someone actually obtains the text you trumpet as your justification.

Perhaps other scholars will actually support your theory, but I strongly advise future readers to not trust Juliann’s assessment of the case, and if they are truly interested, to obtain the actual sources and judge for themselves.

[_Mister Scratch]

Beastie, I'm just going to throw in my two cents here. I think you should begin posting on MAD. I know that you've said you don't want to go where juliann receives special protection, and all of that, but I'd really like to see you confront her. Call her bluff. She has, in effect, thrown down the gauntlet, and so I think you should take her to the cleaners. Basically, only one of two things can happen: You will be banned (and I definitely think you should start throwing elbows from the get-go), or you will completely trounce juliann. There is a possibility that they'll whisk away the thread to the Pundits Forum, but fear not: we can easily reproduce the text here. I really, really hope you'll give this some serious consideration, B. I will be gunning for you.