In Defense of an Academic BYU

In 2002, seminal Mormon theologian Eugene England spoke about reconciling the issue of outside politics in the classroom: “It’s BYU, including our department, that has changed—from being somewhat too secular to being somewhat too sectarian, from being somewhat liberal to being quite conservative. And that wouldn’t matter at all, except that in both cases there have been some who insisted on political correctness and who have turned relative cultural values into religious absolutes with which to attack, punish, or exclude people.” 

Today, BYU students are in an interesting position. An outside-the-Church perspective might say that BYU is the bastion of conservative thought, a place where you go to get married to someone who thinks the same as you, four-year degree optional. Conversely, your orthodox, by-the-books aunt you hope stays quiet during Thanksgiving family dinner wants you to know how rapidly BYU is straying from the true gospel. They’re adding an office of belonging and teaching from books that might feature gay couples. Gasp! Yet, inside the institution, this sort of outside battle for the soul of BYU is manifesting in a different way: one where standing out in the name of sanctity is more important than anything else and students police their peers and professors in an attempt to make the gospel and the school fit their preferred lens.

In January of 2022, within the first couple weeks of a new semester, BYU International Cinema played Rafiki, a film about two women in Kenya who fall in love, despite the social pressures they face from their communities. The IC marketed this film with an asterisk next to its title, signaling that parts of the film would be edited for viewer discretion. What was edited out, one might ask? A kiss between the two main characters, an act of censorship that becomes even more pronounced when contrasted with the graphic on-screen violence shown toward the two women from their communities. This asterisk, signaling uniqueness, exemplifies BYU’s desire to stand alone from the world, rather than with it, in circumstances great or small. However, to those who would have related to the film, it might seem like the message to take away is that an uncensored kiss is more profane than violence, or the experience of receiving that message isn’t sacred enough. International Cinema showing a film that even featured a queer relationship in the first place shows that they are doing their absolute best to nurture a culture of inclusivity, despite their position of being part of a privately funded university. This being said, instances like this that fuel individuals’ need for BYU to be peculiar. In a moment where BYU could have stood with the world, they chose to stand apart, and students suffered for it.

Doctrine and Covenants 88:118 tells us that we should “seek ye out of the best [sources] words of wisdom.” Our learning needs to be by study and by faith, or both secular and spiritual. What makes a critically-acclaimed film like Rafiki not one of those secular sources? Just because it portrays a life different from that of most members of the Church doesn’t mean that it is inherently bad. What was censored might have even helped students grow emotionally, increase their empathy, and better appreciate different walks of life. Students at BYU are bound to encounter people with different life stories as they graduate. Censorship in this vein only serves to stunt them, making it harder for them to be empathetic in a world that increasingly requires it, and hurts rather than shelters them. Additionally, what was censored is real, true, and lived for people, even students at the university. They deserve to see themselves represented too.

It is so important for one to learn to critically engage with ideas and theories that they are uncomfortable with or even disagree with to learn how to be a member of the world we live in. How many good ideas are subconsciously being skipped over because members of the BYU community are fearful of ideas that push the status quo, thinking they’re not leading to a “holy end” and are therefore not worthwhile? How many students and faculty are self-censoring? To be intellectually and ideologically challenged is a large part of the university experience, but some members of the BYU community fight against this by arguing for academic “uniqueness,” which feels synonymous with them arguing for one way forward, one that is defined by its opposition with “the world.”  Arguing that everything needs to be explicitly tied back to the gospel reduces the diversity of thought that a university needs to survive and points to a culture where students appoint themselves as the policing force of who is in line and who is not. 

The Cougar Chronicle, a student-run conservative news and opinion organization that seeks to “always be through the gospel lens,” is a precise illustration of students participating in educational silencing.

Take for example a July post, part of a weekly series entitled “Wokelore Wednesday.” The post seeks to belittle the Global Women's Studies program at BYU by commenting on a class syllabus with an anti-racism project. The Cougar Chronicle says that their stories are “directly collected from BYU students and alumni.” The Chronicle’s response to this syllabus goes as follows: “Following President Nelson’s counsel to root out racism and being an anti-racist are diametrically opposed.” Their argument is based on several shoddy points, including a bought-in belief in the conspiracy theory “cultural Marxism” (which they chose not to define), as well as a purposeful misunderstanding of the term anti-racism. 

Additionally, and perhaps even more worryingly, the authors and community surrounding the Chronicle seem to have no desire to engage with a point they disagree with, with some in the comments even going so far as to say that anti-racism should be taught in schools—only for it be proven as wrong. Quotes from the article, loaded with LDS and conservative buzzwords including “President Nelson’s counsel . . . and "being an anti-racist are diametrically opposed” and “conflating the two will lead to spiritual darkness” exemplify rhetorical fear mongering and black and white thinking.

 In other words, the author weaponizes spiritual language to show how anyone who doesn’t agree with their political stance is also disagreeing with the gospel, the Church, and God’s teachings. Social and religious conservatism are the only political stances that line up, according to the Chronicle, and anyone who doesn’t agree with those stances is not practicing religion in the right way.

Though this is clearly something that happens with conservative communities on campus, this is not a unique issue to them. For some on the left, ears are turned off and attention is shut down as soon as a conservative perspective is brought up, whether it be in a church meeting or in the classroom. For example, “The Family: A Proclamation to the World” is a text that is referenced often in Church or in class, and progressives may find themselves rolling their eyes when they hear the words “lawfully wedded as husband and wife.” And while official Church stances and personal views might not mix, it’s important to realize that progressives aren’t the ones trying to tell anyone how to worship.

Some conservative individuals—like the Cougar Chronicle, among others—are appropriating The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and by proxy BYU, diminishing the chance for an expansive view of the world and the gospel. A relationship with God shouldn't be policed by someone who has no ecclesiastical authority, and yet, this is exactly what’s happening. That Cougar Chronicle article is a prime example of how individuals are conflating their own beliefs onto the need for a “peculiar” or “unique” institution—one that must stand alone from “the world” by standing in opposition to anything that does not fit into their non-expansive view of how Latter-day Saint faith must be believed and practiced. They have convinced themselves that the Church is right leaning, directly contradicting Latter-day Saint scholar Eugene England who said, “Our tendency to insist on our liberal or conservative political or cultural values as if they were religious absolutes. They are not.” As recently as June 1, 2023, the Church released a statement on political neutrality, saying it does not “endorse, promote, or oppose political parties” and doesn’t “advise its members on how to vote.” 

All of this comes to a head in the classroom, where students are directly impacted every day by a need for peculiarity and uniqueness. This drive for uniqueness reduces diversity of thought in the classroom and creates an echo chamber, and in turn, promotes a certain censorship of the “uncomfortable” materials. Students work tirelessly to police both their peers and their professors, hoping to catch someone slipping up if they don’t adhere to the correct level of spirituality and conservatism. To them, the sacred is at war with the secular, and if the secular ever wins out, then BYU has failed its mission. But do the two even need to be at war?

This is not a call for an abolishment of religious teachings at BYU. It’s incredibly important that BYU exists as a religious university, as a place where Mormon history and doctrine can be taught through a faith-affirming lens. No one comes to BYU without recognizing that as part of its inherent draw. However, this is a plea to be wary of those calling for a purge of BYU. It is a call to caution against those who call the university, as it stands today, an abomination or sinful because it’s willing to meet the world where it’s at. Even in the smallest of circumstances, we need to be able to find balance—between the sacred and the secular, between the orthodox and the expansive. Students can and should treat their professors with enough respect that they can understand that even if what’s being taught isn’t being held within a frame of doctrinal or political language, that doesn’t mean their professor is purposefully trying to withhold a Christ-centered lens. The eleventh Article of Faith says “let them worship how, where or what they may.” Why isn’t it the same for how we learn?

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