Ryan Dahle

They knew that "save" meant "except." But a phrase like "save it were" was very rare. By way of analogy, we know what Yoda means when he says "help you I will." But that doesn't mean that English speakers (at least before Star Wars came out) were likely to use that type of phrasing. There is a big difference between being able to understand the meaning of certain items of archaic syntax and being likely to use a particular form of archaic syntax, especially in the variety of forms and in the rates and quantities we often find in the Book of Mormon. Also I never stated that my theory necessitates that the entirety of the text is from the EModE period. Stan and Royal have been clear on this point repeatedly. They aren't claiming the entire text comes from that period or is exclusive to that period. I'm not sure why people keep bringing this up, as if it is some groundbreaking point that no one has considered before. It is ultimately irrelevant to my explanation of the text. Finally, you are oversimplifying when certain issues were introduced to what time period. Infant baptism was an issue in Mesoamerica as well as concern in the Restoration. The nature of God was being debated from early in Christian history and is a question of universal concern. Dan Vogel overplayed the exclusivity of "secret combinations" and its implications, and secret societies can be found in many cultures. Thus the anti-masonry issue is debatable. But these issues are really not quite the same thing as the nature of the text. I can find many textual details that seem to be more exclusively ancient, and that are hard to explain as coming from Joseph Smith, especially in the aggregate. I've already listed some a while back.

That is an assumption that in all likelihood isn’t true. To prove that this assumption is true, you’d need to comprehensively provide transcripts of everything that was ever said or read in his environment. We don’t have that. Notice your shift in logic. You first claim, without support, that my claim "in all likelihood isn't true." But then you shift the burden, arguing that I need to prove that my position is true. The unstated implication is that if I can't prove my position is true, then "in all likelihood" it is false. That is a big logical leap. For example, there are many strong scientific theories that aren't yet categorically "proven." But you can't just leap from "not proven" to "in all likelihood" false. The problem with your position is that we actually have an enormous amount of textual data to help us determine what English was like at certain times and in certain regions of the world. While this data isn't a catalogue of every word that was ever spoken by all English speakers everywhere, it is still a very large sample of data that reliably represents normative patterns of English communication in a whole host of genres, contexts, and regions. Royal Skousen and Stan have been looking for archaism in Joseph Smith's environment, and haven't found it. And Stan has been especially diligent for many years now combing through the digital databases. The data is overwhelmingly against your position. So all you really have left is that the data doesn't quite yet "prove" Stan's position is correct. That is true. But the available linguistic data is still overwhelmingly in support Stan's position. The combined lexis, grammar, and syntax are extremely unlikely to have been produced by Joseph Smith. This is based on the available data as well as a standard academic understanding of how human beings assimilate language into their working vocabularies. Oh, I understand the approach. This has been my life for the past decade. It just seems that those critical of the church are not actually dealing with a large amount of the data. And here is where a common misunderstanding arises. The naturalistic theory has very well defined parameters. We know how humans normally assimilate language. We can track how language is used in certain times and regions. And modern databases have given us extraordinarily large sample sizes to work with. This means we have a very good data to make assessments about whether the text of the Book of Mormon plausibly reflects Joseph Smith's own native linguistic abilities. We know where he lived. We have a pretty good grasp of his education and access to books. We know how people were generally speaking in his environment, and so forth. He is a known entity. In contrast, if we assume that the Book of Mormon was translated by supernatural means, that type of entity is far less known. We don't have any precedents for divine translation. We don't know all of the goals of such a translation. We don't know who was responsible for the translation (whether God, the Holy Ghost, angels, etc.). If it were one or more angels, we don't know what their language abilities are like when they get to the spirit world, or what their target language would be or why. We also don't know what texts are like in that realm. We don't know if a version of the Book of Mormon is being used there, or how it might relate to the version here. And on and on. There are just so many things we don't know. All we can do is speculate. Nevertheless, these uncertainties create a natural asymmetry in the argument. When you deal with entities that you don't know much about, you have a much harder time proving (or strongly arguing) a negative. This means that while we can be fairly confident that Joseph Smith didn't produce the text of the Book of Mormon, we can't be nearly as confident that one or more divine entities produced the text. So a door is open on that front to a much greater degree than it would be for Joseph Smith. Which means that the supernatural argument has an obvious advantage in this area. Now, typically, when confronted with this dilemma, those committed to a naturalistic worldview will resort back to a more general argument about how supernatural entities aren't plausible to begin with, and therefore Joseph Smith is the preferrable authorship option. But that is just misdirection since the whole point of the debate is to test whether naturalistic or supernatural assumptions can best explain specific sets of data. When the data doesn't favor your position on a certain line of evidence, you can't just resort back to doubling down on the assumptions guiding your worldview, since that is the whole point of the debate anyways (i.e., testing the assumptions guiding our worldview). The simple fact is that this data doesn't not work well for a naturalistic theory and can be much better accommodated by a supernatural theory. The data is highly unlikely under the former theory and only somewhat unexpected under the latter theory. It therefore counts in favor of the supernatural explanation. You can't just then use your strong and generalized inclination against the supernatural to erase the fact that your own naturalistic theory is highly implausible on this front. That is cheating under normative Bayesian principles.

Yep. I say so.

I have read 1 Nephi 13, and it only provides a VERY generalized discussion of how plain and precious things would be removed from the Bible and how the Book of Mormon and other records in the Latter-days would help restore some of the plain and precious things that were lost. It doesn't specifically say how that will be accomplished or what parts of the Book of Mormon are most involved in accomplishing that goal. Nor does it say that is the only goal of the Book of Mormon or that this goal equally applies to each of the text's constituent parts. So there is a layer of interpretation that must be employed, and it seems pretty obvious that you are choosing an interpretation that is not only logically unnecessary but also just doesn't make much sense. Here is an analogy that may help. Imagine you are restoring an old truck, and you tell your friend that the purpose of your project is to make the truck run again. But in the process, you also change the upholstery and give it a new paint job. But then your friend goes about telling everyone that you are making your truck "run again" by changing its upholstery and giving it a new paint job. That would be an obvious logical fallacy. Your friend took a SINGLE stated purpose of your project and assumed it was the ONLY purpose. The friend then applied that general purpose to a particular part of the project to which it obviously didn't apply. Likewise, you are taking a single statement about the general purpose of the Book of Mormon and assuming, without justification, that it applies equally to every detail and section of the text. But that simply isn't a logical necessity, and it just doesn't work on many levels. For instance, what about all the details of the Book of Mormon that aren't plain and precious truths. What about stories unique to the Nephite nation, such as battles between the Nephites and Lamanites. Does every aspect of these stories restore plain and precious truths? Or is it more just that the stories contain opportunities for Mormon and other authors to draw out moral conclusions which interact with, restore, and sometimes clarify truths taught in the Bible? The latter interpretation seems obviously preferrable. I'm guessing you now see the problem with your unnecessarily universal interpretation of 1 Nephi 13. It is abundantly obvious that not everything in the Book of Mormon fits that stated goal. That goal only operates on a certain high level in most textual units. And, if that is true, it then raises the question about the purpose of the Isaiah chapters. It seems pretty clear the from the text that these chapters are not specifically intended to restore plain and precious things. If that were Joseph Smith's primary purpose for these chapters (under a naturalistic theory), one would assume that they would contain many more doctrinally significant changes (more akin to many of the changes in the JST). But they don't. Instead, they only seem to provide a basis upon which Nephite authors developed their own commentary and talking points (which commentary and original content is then where we get the articulations of some plain and precious truths that may have been obscured or lost from biblical texts). Overall, you have to remember that this is a criticism that YOU are making, trying to say that this textual data counts against the Book of Mormon in your Bayesian analysis. But that only works if your assumptions about the purpose of the Isaiah chapters is correct. Unfortunately for your theory, as the above analysis indicates, that is not a very logically justifiable position. Since you are making the critical claims, you have the initial burden of proof. You can't just say that is what the text necessarily means, and then not be able to back it up. I mean, I guess you technically can say that, but it only reveals a significant flaw in your Bayesian analysis.

There will be an Interpreter conference in May. I know several authors are exploring this issue in depth. It will be interesting to see what they have to say. But, basically, contrary to your AI summary (which tends to overinflate perceptions of consensus), I think that the field itself has fairly weak methodological controls and is actually in a significant state of disarray regarding the precise nature of Isaiah's authorship. Determining disputed authorship thousands of years after the fact is a highly speculative endeavor to begin with, so I just don't think Latter-day Saints have a lot to worry about. I've read lots and lots of scholarly discussions on dating and authorship of a wide variety of ancient texts. Even the best current theories tend to have significant limitations. Perhaps the biggest fundamental challenge is separating original content from redacted content. As soon as you start assuming a text may have undergone multiple layers of redaction and adaption through the centuries, the competing theories become highly complicated and almost impossible to prove. Here is one Latter-day Saint's journey exploring the complexity and limitations of this scholarship:

It's a good thing, then, that the Book of Mormon has so many lines of extraordinary evidence to back up its extraordinary spiritual claims.

I'm sorry, but your explanation of the implications of the "tight translation" (in connection to elements identified by Carmack) makes no sense. As far as I understand it, Stan believes in a tightly controlled translation, meaning that it was essentially revealed word-for-word to Joseph Smith. But the translation itself appears to by dynamic, ranging on a spectrum of literalness depending on the context. It seems pretty clear to me that you still just don't understand this topic well enough to deal with it in your Bayesian analysis. In any case, you are missing the point of the EModE data. The problem is that the linguistic environment that you assume Smith was immersed in didn't have the variety of archaic forms found in the BofM. So you have to come up with a naturalistic theory that can reasonably account for the depth and breadth of the archaism in the Book of Mormon. No one has done that yet, except to assume without evidence (as you did above) that all of the necessary linguistic forms were somehow just floating in Smith's environment, and that it was pervasive enough to be reasonably detected and assimilated into his working vocabulary, sufficient that he could dictate in that dialect in a fast-paced translation. In other words, you have to assume something that, linguistically speaking, seems highly implausible. Which you would have to admit, in the Bayesian approach, would count pretty strongly against your authorship theory. If you don't think it is highly implausible and that Stan is wrong, it might help to point to other examples where individuals who aren't well read are suddenly able to mimic, through their own intellectual capacity, numerous aspects of archaic dialects that aren't aren't reasonably present in their immediate environment. This line of evidence pushes pretty strongly against Smith's authorship, and so far it is essentially just being ignored. More importantly, this is just one aspect of the Book of Mormon's "text" that needs to be accounted for. Many more dozens of textual features (categorically speaking) need to be accounted for. Your explanation still has a long way to go before anything is really explained.

Not only is this theory significantly complicated by the more recent findings of how the KJV is implemented in the Book of Mormon (see comments and research by champatsch etc.), but it wouldn't really amount to strong evidence of anything, even if your assertion were true. Before one starts trying to wield this data to support a particular conclusion, one first has to ask: How would a divine being like God facilitate the translation of portions of an ancient text that are already substantively available in the target language in an authoritative scriptural text? Would the divinely facilitated translation prioritize accurately preserving all variants and discrepancies between the two works (assuming such variants exist)? Or would the divine translation prioritize a basic consistency with the available English translation that already exists (which, in this case, aligns with the text's own stated interest in seeing the Bible and BofM merge together in a significant way)? Since there is no precedent for how God would specifically go about such a translation, and since humans aren't in a great circumstance to engage in mind-reading a divine being for this type of topic, it seems the type of data needed for a reliable Bayesian estimate is simply not available in this case. In other words, you can pretty much throw this line of evidence out of the analysis, since your conclusion necessarily rests on your subjective and unsupportable assumptions about how God might direct the translation of such a text. This is really the problem with most lines of negative evidence that those critical of the Restoration tend to rely on and often think are so compelling. If you probe just a little deeper, you realize they depend on crucial assumptions that are highly questionable, doubtful, or, in some cases, flat out wrong. And as soon as you expose light on these weak assumptions, the structural integrity of the entire line of evidence collapses like a house of cards.

Fascinating. Thanks for the further explanation. Can't wait to see all of this published at some point.

What do think the significance may be for these types of shifts?

I think that is a bit of an overstatement. Some challenging stories, such as the slaying of Laban or the command to practice plural marriage, have multiple attending reasons that God provides. Other accounts, such as Abraham's command to offer Isaac or Adam and Eve's command to offer sacrifices, have no explanation upfront and limited explanation in the aftermath. But even in circumstances where multiple explanations may be give, they are often brief and still leave many difficult questions unanswered. The feeling I get is that God is almost always limiting the full spectrum of reasons and explanations that he could give. For instance, we have a whole theology of sin, sinners, and hell that is developed throughout the OT, NT, and Book of Mormon. But then we get to the D&C and that theology is expanded and refined considerably. But then we get this comment in D&C 29:29-30: "And now, behold, I say unto you, never at any time have I declared from mine own mouth that they should return, for where I am they cannot come, for they have no power. But remember that all my judgments are not given unto men." And then we get this from D&C 76:45-46: "And the end thereof, neither the place thereof, nor their torment, no man knows; Neither was it revealed, neither is, neither will be revealed unto man, except to them who are made partakers thereof." In other words, we still don't really fully understand hell. God has given us some information, but not the whole picture. And we need to be careful not to assume that what is given is the full explanation. I think that principle is pretty much ever-present in the line-upon-line understanding of revelation. See Alma 12:9-11: Those who want to present the LDS Church and its theology in a negative light will naturally tend to minimize this principle. Every divine explanation will be considered complete and final, since that will minimize any room for other possible explanatory factors that could further justify a position. In other words, they will take what is given, conclude it is obviously false or highly implausible, and then close themselves off to further revelation. Those who value preserving faith and trying to find a way to rationally justify their beliefs will tend to leave the door open to a whole host of explanations that may be true but aren't yet divinely disclosed. I actually think another distinguishing factor is the ability to think creatively--not in the sense of manufacturing irrational explanations through "mental gymnastics," but in the sense of considering and exploring solutions to problems that haven't yet been considered. As a rule of thumb, we tend not to think creatively when it comes to considering solutions to problems we are currently biased against or positions that we intuitively don't want to justify. In a political debate, for instance, interlocutors will tend to be VERY creative in trying to solve challenges or critiques of their own ideological worldview. However, when it comes to attacking an opponent's viewpoint, all of a sudden the creative juices stop flowing. In that case, they will be as reductive as possible. The goal is to paint a very narrow interpretation of the opponent's view, and then box them into it as a trap that they can never get out of. In this case, it isn't hard for me to imagine circumstances in which killing the leader of an organization could drastically alter the direction or activities of that organization. There are all sorts of social arrangements, and different leaders have widely varying degrees of influence over different organizations. In some cases, you can remove a leader and everything pretty much continues on as before. In other cases, you can remove a leader and everything changes almost overnight. It may fee like a completely different organization. You seem to be assuming that all of Laban's underlings shared his attitude towards Nephi and his brothers, and that they would have been equally motivated and interested in pursuing that issue, especially in the immediate aftermath of Laban being slain (to them by an unknown hand). Perhaps you just aren't considering the nearly endless possible reasons for why that might not be the case.

I agree. There are substantial differences in the moral calculous. I'm not trying to equate the severity of the circumstances or suggest there aren't any mitigating factors in Nephi's context. At the same time, though, there is still a gap between what reportedly happened and what our natural intuitions suggest would have been morally preferred or ideal. Although the circumstances and severity of the problem changes from issue to issue, I think the fact that we have to fill that type of gap is consistent, and the ways we attempt to fill the gap are actually very similar across the board.

I agree with all of this. My point was just that similar lines of reasoning and objections can be used for other actions that we probably both believe God commanded to be carried out. So the question is whether the same essential strategies that we use in those circumstances couldn't also be used for this one. If we take Nephi, for example. Why did God instruct him to kill a helpless drunk? Look at the precedent the story provides at the opening of our most foundational scriptural text. Look at the trauma it probably caused for Nephi. God surely could have carried out the deed himself. Or, using his omnipotent wisdom and inexhaustible creativity, he could have found a more ideal solution (from our perspective).

Oh I completely agree. I think, at the deepest level, the issue is really most about probing the limits of human knowledge. How ignorant are we, really? What might we not know that could change the eternal calculus on the morality of any given action? How willing are we to explore and entertain the depth and breadth of those possibilities, not necessarily to find the answer but to open ourselves up to all possible answers. To me, the underlying problem is best and most effectively resolved on that deepest epistemological level.

Oh, I agree, in principle. And I'm not sure what the best solution to the scriptural accounts is. I can see how there may be wild inaccuracies in the Canaanite conquest story. And if there are, I don't think that poses a significant threat to our theology. Nothing of doctrinal or historical significance rests on the perfect accuracy of those accounts. On the other hand, there are a number of things that God is doing in the OT that seem difficult to fully explain. The flood. The destruction of Sodom. The story of Achan. There is just a lot of killing of the wicked in various contexts. Plus the allowance for slavery/servitude. And then there is polygamy, with concubines. And so on. It is hard to know what to do with it all. A lot of it can be historically inaccurate. I think that really is a live option for some of these OT stories. But then we have things like 3 Nephi that sort of confirm that God himself seems to take an active role (i.e., directing nature) in destroying the wicked. There are also the prophecies of eschatological destruction in the Latter days that seem to fit the same pattern. Which brings up some uncomfortable questions. If wholesale destruction of the "wicked" is justified in certain circumstances, can we really be sure God would NEVER command something like the Israelite conquest. In other words, can we be confident God wouldn't ever ask his followers to do something that he himself seems willing to do under some circumstances. I think your response and revulsion is wise. It does seem high cost with low benefits. It doesn't seem like a wise choice to have humans carrying out that degree of divine justice, ESPECIALLY if it involves the killing of innocent children. It isn't just the psychological and social trauma. It would also be the feeling of guilt--of being told to do something that, to one's own intuition, seems so utterly and totally and obviously wrong. There is also the huge potential for misunderstanding, where people assume that because God commanded it in a limited circumstance, then that means it is a good thing in principle, or that one should take joy in it, or that similar actions can be carried out indiscriminately, and so on. And, yet, on a different (usually lesser level), I think very similar objections can be made about other directives that I think God almost certainly did give. Take plural marriage for example. Look at the personal cost. Look at the heartache. Look how it turned so many people against Joseph Smith and against the Church. Look how it is still affecting people today, how it becomes a significant stumbling block to faith. Look at how many people got the wrong idea, thinking they could just implement the practice as they see fit (not directed by presiding keys). Look how hard it was when the practice was discontinued. From many perspectives today, so many things would have been so much better and simpler if God simply would have never instituted the practice. In other words, one can easily conclude that God is too wise to use such a poor method to bring his children back to his side. There are too many negative effects and they outweigh any of the positives. Likewise, did Nephi REALLY need to kill Laban. Think of the harm that likely caused him. The guilt. The trauma. The knowledge that he literally decapitated a defenseless man. God could have struck Laban dead, just like he killed the Lamanite who was about to slay Ammon. Yet he didn't. God made Nephi do his "dirty work" so to speak. It must have been a horrifying and revolting experience, one that from the available data may not seem good or necessary. To be clear, I don't personally hold that view. I absolutely believe the command to practice plural marriage was from God and that Nephi was commanded to kill Laban. But I can sympathize with those who struggle to make sense of these and other commands. My point is just that on some level or another, this is always the fundamental problem. It always seems, to our mortal perspective, like a different approach could have been more ideal. I'm not saying you are wrong about the genocide issue. But it just seems helpful to recognize that it is ultimately the same underlying type of problem across the board. Some topics just hit us harder than others. At least, that is how it seems to me.

I think most people's biggest faith concerns actually come from these types of issues. At their core, they boil down to a few basic principles though. In essence, they are about God's moral character. How do we reconcile a perfect, divine, loving being--the epitome of righteousness--with divine actions that seems unjust, unloving, or unfair. It is not just the general "problem of Evil" but a specific subcategory: the "problem of divinely directed or instituted Evil." One solution that many members of the Church take, almost universally to these types of concerns, is to just assume that all such behavior is a product of imperfect human beings. In this case, it would be assumed that the scriptural accounts of divinely directed or permitted genocide simply cannot be accurate. In the case of polygamy, it would be to assume that the practice was a blatant mistake by Joseph Smith. This is what is primarily driving the polygamy denial/revisionist movement. Their version of God would simply never ask, require, or permit such a practice, especially not as introduced by Joseph Smith in the historical record. It is the same thing with the priesthood ban or curses involving skin color. Interpretations will always favor a mistake or a misunderstanding about the scriptural texts, since a loving God presumably wouldn't permit or enact those types of outcomes (especially considering how sensitive modern societies are about them right now). The same is true of the LGBTQ policies. Ultimately, anything that unfairly limits or places an unfair burden on anyone has to be human error, since God is perfectly loving, just, and fair. One thing I realized a while back is that this type of solution--which universally assumes human error whenever perceived harm or inequity occurs--will never be sufficient. There are just too many features unequivocally baked into the core of the Plan of Salvation that prove the principle is invalid. God actually does institute unfairness. It is built into the very fabric of the cosmos that he created and which he controls. He is the one who fashioned the fallen world of mortality and who provided this tailored environment as a space for humankind to dwell, as a consequence for the Fall of Adam and Eve. That means that he is the one who created and still controls all of the disparity that arises merely due to so-called "natural" laws. Every loved one, including children, that dies from cancer is a result of God's creative control. He had the foreknowledge to know that type of affliction would attend the fallen world he fashioned. He knew precisely who it would affect. He had and still has the power to prevent it. But he doesn't. And the same is true with every other nature-caused affliction. It isn't just that God permits these "evils." He, in a very direct way, knowingly instituted them. Think of the collective harm and pain and unfairness that causes. Look at the scale. Billions and billions of people suffering, many times slowly unto death, in ways that are blatantly unfair. Even death itself--a universal feature of mortality--is essentially instituted by God. As declared in Alma 12:27: "it was appointed unto men that they must die." Yet some people suffer far more grisly and untimely deaths than others--a disparity which was ultimately caused by, foreknown, and preventable by God. Even simple facts of biology, such as the disparity of men and women in physical makeup, can be placed at God's hand. Think of the unfairness of procreation, how much it costs women to bear children in contrast to men. Or the challenges of menstruation. Or the simple fact that men are stronger than women, on average. Think of the disparity those simple facts have caused throughout the ages. It seems strange to be okay that God knowingly caused or instituted these outcomes and then primarily balk at the fact that he instituted a male-only ecclesiastical priesthood. I get that it feels different to humans, since natural laws seem to operate without God's direct intervention. But I think logically he is just as responsible for both outcomes (assuming one believes God created the world and also believes the order of the priesthood, as currently instituted in the Church, was directed by God). In normal human contexts, if God were to be judged based on standards of moral behavior typically adopted by human societies and which are prevalent today, he would seem like a monster. Who among us, seeing a young child playing next to a river, wouldn't feel a moral obligation to go and prevent the child from drowning. To not do so would be gross negligence and patently immoral. And yet God allows and permits such tragedies--and many more of varying types--to occur every day, all over the world, often which arise because of the dangers that he Himself knowingly and purposefully instituted into the natural laws of this world. This means that we can't just say that unfairness in life is a product of human depravity. It is true that human agency is often a major cause of suffering and unfairness, but even then, it is God himself who set the conditions that allow humans to sometimes so horribly abuse and take advantage of one another. He knows about every instance of physical and sexual abuse. He could stop all of it. And yet he most often doesn't. Thus, again, he acts in ways that would be morally evil if he were a mere mortal. I think many members of the Church haven't quite come to grips with this aspect of the Plan of Salvation. But to me, it reframes how I look at most of the major faith-crisis issues. While it is true that prophets and the scriptures are fallible, that may not always be the best or most likely solution to every instance of perceived unfairness and injustice that we see in the scriptures or in modern Church history, doctrine, policy, or practice. At the very least, it places a big question mark on the underlying rationale that is most often driving interpretations towards human fallibility rather than divine direction. For instance, if you can't imagine that a loving God would institute plural marriage (due to the inherent unfairness that arises from the practice, especially as it is attempted to be lived by imperfect human beings in very complex and trying circumstances), then you should logically have an even bigger problem believing in a God who knowingly and intentionally instituted the inevitability of cancer into the conditions of mortality. By normal human standards, that is not much different than biological warfare. Imagine, for instance, if scientists intentionally introduced a virus into the world that they knew would kill hundreds of millions of people and cause many others to suffer in terrible ways. That would be one of the greatest types of evil we can imagine. And then come back to the issue of plural marriage. While it is hard to compare the emotional pain and trauma that arise from that institution with the pain and loss that comes from something like cancer, many if not most people would probably view cancer as the greater "evil" (in that it causes the greater and most severe type of harm). And yet most members of the Church aren't having a faith crisis over the fact that God fashioned a world where cancer would cause so much disproportionate harm and suffering. I think once these aspects of the Plan of Salvation are contextualized in this manner, it sort of changes everything. If we can find a reasonable solution to explain why God may have instituted some of the most vexing aspects of harm, suffering, and disparity in the Plan of Salvation (which often arise simply as a product of creation itself), then it seems like most all of these concerns could plausibly be explained by the same underlying rationale. That certainly doesn't mean that some outcomes or aspects of Church history aren't a product of human fallibility. To be clear, I'm not suggesting that all harm and suffering in the Church should just automatically be attributed to God. What I am saying is that the Plan of Salvation seems to already permit the type of God who COULD institute something like plural marriage or even the priesthood ban. This is because, by logical necessity, Latter-day Saints already have to develop a rationale that can account for God instituting and permitting disparities that are arguably just as harmful and unfair--if not much more so--than these hot-topic faith crisis issues. I think as apologists, we generally need a better, more comprehensive, and more consistent approach to theodicy.

Yes. Absolutely. I actually have found that general attitude to be somewhat dangerous to faith. Sometimes people flip remarkably quickly from "the Church is obviously true and nothing could conceivably threaten any of its claims" to "the Church is obviously false and nothing could conceivably warrant belief in its claims." They often see their past selves as naive believers. But somehow, within just a matter of weeks or months, they impressively transform into informed critics who have seen all they really need to know about the debate. Others retain their faith and are just entirely unrealistic about many of the problems and challenges that have been leveled against the Church. Generally, though, the members of the Church who are deeply informed about many of these issues and have found a way to retain their faith are less prone to these extreme worldviews. I actually think there are a lot of people who leave the Church who are fairly responsible in this area as well. But they aren't the ones online militating against the Church and its claims. They simply think unbelief is more reasonable and quietly go on their way trying to construct or reconstruct a worldview that works for them.

It's sort of funny. Over the years, as I have observed critics of the Church try to grapple with this data, it has actually strengthened my testimony to some degree. Every time they deflect (try to avoid the positive evidence simply by highlighting more negative evidence) or resort to generalized explanations that rely on "coincidence" or on the claim that humans are capable of "extraordinary" things, I become increasingly convinced that they actually just don't have good answers for many of these lines of evidence. To me, the fact that they can't admit that is somewhat telling. Sometimes you just have to acknowledge that your worldview can't currently accommodate certain types of data very well, and that opposing arguments are not only understandable but may be superior on those grounds. There are all sorts of things that LDS believers can't fully explain, and which at least on the surface appear to be contradictory or problematic for our worldview. So we try to grapple with those problems, pry into the underlying assumptions or traditional approaches that have been used to frame them, and explore various possible solutions. Yet, even then, we sometimes have to just admit that we don't yet have a good answer or explanation for something. But for us, that is okay. We don't have to win every battle. We don't have to have overwhelming proof, or be able to demonstrate that opposing viewpoints are obviously and categorically wrong in virtually ever way. We just need reasonable space to believe, which simultaneously allows room for faith (which I see as trusting in the spiritual evidence we have been given and continuing to seek it). It is a much more modest intellectual position. In contrast, it seems many critics of the Church are hypersensitive on this front. It isn't enough for the Church to be plausibly wrong. It has to be dead wrong--in a way that is so obvious that it is almost laughable. Belief can't be seen as a live option on the table that reasonable and competent people can take. It has to be a very firmly closed door. I think this is partly because anything less would very personally open them up to accepting that the Church could plausibly be true, depending on which arguments and supporting data and assumptions turn out to be correct. And I think that is just a very threatening proposition for a lot of reasons, probably many of them unique or personal to the individual. So what we see is that even in areas where the Church's truth claims have an obvious advantage (like the Three and Eight Witnesses or the complexity of the Book of Mormon), that advantage can never be admitted. Critics can't just say, "Oh, wow, that is pretty good evidence. While it isn't quite enough for me, I can see why reasonable people would find it fairly compelling, especially if they are having regular 'spiritual' experiences that they feel bring them peace, joy, and goodness in their lives." That just isn't a space that many critics can intellectually be in. It is too threatening to their worldview. To be clear, I'm not saying everyone who rejects the Church's truth claims feels this way. But it is a very pervasive attitude and paradigm adopted by (usually) the most vocal critics of the Church who engage on online platforms.

Yep. Virtually everyone is a storyteller on some level or another. Even if someone isn't a great storyteller, they may be able to entertain a group if the story is interesting or important enough to the audience--which seems to be Lucy's point. Her report isn't about Joseph's unique or extraordinary gift as an orator, but was simply that he was telling them such marvelous and interesting things that he learned from the angel. But even if Lucy had gone on and on about Joseph's oration skills in particular, that still wouldn't provide strong evidence that he would be able to produce the Book of Mormon. No good storyteller I have ever known would be able to produce a long, complex text like the Book of Mormon through oral dictation. It is just not the same skill. And that is the major problem with the naturalistic explanation on this front. None of the historical evidence--even details which suggest Smith may have been a decent speaker or that he may have had a good memory or that he was at least passingly familiar with the Bible--provide evidence that he was capable of producing the manifold complexity of the Book of Mormon. Few people could ever craft such a text, and within that limited group far fewer still, if any, could do so in what was essentially a single draft without substantive revisions. Nothing in the historical record suggests Smith had the specific skills necessary to accomplish this truly extraordinary feat. Extrapolating that he could, based on the available data, is just such an enormous and premature assumption. It's somewhat like suggesting that because someone once attended a bike rodeo as a child and often rode their bike to school as a teen, they would suddenly be able to perform extreme BMX tricks at the highest level of competition as a young adult, but with the additional challenge of juggling flaming batons at the same time. Perhaps such a feat is not technically impossible. As Analytics keeps saying, people are capable of extraordinary things. But the evidence just isn't there to support the accomplishment, especially when we consider all the contrary evidence about Joseph's limitations.

You'll notice that I address your more specific claim as well, but whether or not Joseph Smith (the presumed 19th century author) was plausibly capable of authoring the text seems obviously relevant. I'm guessing you are aware of the text's own claims about the significance of the brass plates and the perpetuation of Hebrew and Egyptian in their scribal tradition. The issue isn't about simply being a descendent of such a culture. It is about cultural factors that are intended to inculcate and preserve a certain literary/religious tradition. The text claims the Nephite religious tradition was maintained, and we certainly see instances of strong cultural/religious/literary continuity in many societies throughout the world. Assumptions, in the abstract, about how plausible this particular degree of continuity might be seem less valuable than the strong evidence of ANE literary influence in the text itself. I also think there are a number of textual details that suggest the Book of Mormon authors were being influenced by contemporaneous Mesoamerican societies. We also see realistic evolution of doctrinal concerns and articulations of such doctrine as the text develops, often in contexts where outside pressures can be discerned by the attentive reader. That seems to be a very reductive (and probably not accurate) view of how the Isaiah chapters are developed in the Book of Mormon and interpreted by the text's internally designated authors and also by Joseph Smith. The substantive changes from the KJV are actually very few. It seems rather that Nephite prophets believed that Isaiah's writings held special significance for their people and the destiny of the house of Israel (in which their own people and record would play a significant role). In addition to the lengthy quotations, Nephite prophets oftentimes interacted with Isaiah's writings in remarkably sophisticated and complex ways. Here is just one example from an article I published last year: Jacob's Use of Isaiah in 2 Nephi 6-10. I already addressed this issue to some extent. There is evidence of cultural/religious evolution and change in the Book of Mormon. But there is also evidence that its prophets very intentionally preserved and perpetuated their people's core doctrines and faith traditions. Since we are only getting a brief glimpse of their 1000-year history, primarily redacted by a single editor, it makes sense to me that distinctions over time would be minimized while certain core items of doctrinal continuity would be maintained. We even see this in modern times as the Church has presented its own history. If you read, for example, something like the Teachings of the Presidents of the Church, you find a remarkable degree of continuity over a nearly 200 year history of the Church. It doesn't dwell on more ancillary disagreements such as the Adam-God theory. In other words, the types of changes and rates of change in societies differ based on a variety of factors. When there are strong internal forces to counteract natural pressures to evolve, and when a text is primarily compiled by just a few authors/editors who believed themselves to be part of the same core religious faith and tradition, it is not hard to imagine that something like the Book of Mormon might result. It seems like you are insinuating that the Book of Mormon is essentially playing it safe--only prophesying of past events that are certainly known, but then suddenly cutting off on more dangerous prophesies of future topics. Obviously, prophecy gets into pretty ambiguous territory, since the interpretation of prophecy is often hotly contested. But one might consider that even the prophecies about Joseph Smith weren't exactly playing it safe. The text was produced before Smith had gathered a large religious following. Thus the prediction about the size and scope of the latter-day movement (i.e., it being "upon all the face of the earth") was pretty grandiose for the time. Likewise, it seems doubtful that Smith could have been certain that the witnesses of the Book of Mormon would corroborate his miraculous claims, and state that they themselves had seen the plates (plus the angel and the other Nephite artifacts in joint visionary encounters). There are also other prophecies, such as the role of the Book of Mormon in the gathering of Israel, the prophecy that the Brass Plates will go to all the world, the prophecy of the New Jerusalem, and the prophecy about Christ's Second Coming and its attending calamities. In total, there are actually relatively few specific prophecies that the Book of Mormon makes about the Latter-days. Some of them deal with content before Joseph Smith's time. Others make fairly bold (and seemingly improbable) predictions about events of the Restoration which remarkably came to pass. Others deal with events that are still yet to come. So, no, this data doesn't "scream" anything to me. I find it on the whole to be either neutral or, in some cases, moderately strong evidence in supportive of Smith's prophetic calling. In summary, the types of concerns you are raising do little to rebut my main points, especially when it comes to the stronger lines of evidence I mentioned (such as collective wordplay data). The Book of Mormon has many 19th-century words and phrases. And it does seem intended to focus or address many religious concerns from the Renaissance onward. But I think that can be accounted for by the nature of a divinely prepared text that was preserved and intended for our day. On the other hand, there is an enormous amount of data that just doesn't fit well in a 19th century context, especially not as coming from a 19th-century author like Joseph Smith. The fact that this data is not being responsibly and fairly dealt with is telling, imo.

That is easy to say in the abstract. But there are many lines of evidence that converge against that claim, especially once we take into consideration the known attributes of the 19th-century American author (Joseph Smith) that you believe is responsible to have produced the text in that time period. Objectively speaking, I don't think there is anything in Smith's background that "screams" that he would be able to produce such a text. In fact, just the opposite seems to be the case. History suggests that few if any people have (or by inductive logic, reasonably could) produce such a remarkably complex text under such exceedingly difficult circumstances. Yet the available data pertaining to Joseph Smith's education, intellect, and literary background render him as a poor candidate on that front. The complexity alone is a major setback for your preferred naturalistic explanation. But that is just the beginning of the problems with your claim. There are many features that suggest the text has ancient Near Eastern origins. Here is a somewhat representative sampling: (1) an entire suite of poetic parallelisms and their remarkable quantity and complexity, (2) the prophetic call formula, (3) testamentary and farewell texts, (4) apocalyptic literature, (5) Nephi's impressive psalm, (6) a lengthy and complex allegory in Jacob 5 similar to other ANE examples, (7) woe oracles, (8) simile curses, (9) the recommission formula, (10) lots of inverted quotations consistent with Seidel's law, (11) ANE epistolary formula, (12) numerous congruities with ancient legal cases, (13) pervasive Exodus motifs, (14) consistencies with ancient transliteration practices, (15) evidence of underlying scribal errors and activities, (16) a prophetic disguise narrative, (17) ANE kingly introduction pattern, (18) a dancing maiden type scene, (19) epic literature, (20) a remarkably consistent retrograde king's list, (21) examples of symbolic use of sacred numbers, including the use of all all-inclusive statements at the conclusion of lists of ten items, (22) divine council imagery, (23) a prophetic lawsuit, (24) consistent ANE covenant/treaty language, (25) quotations of large blocks of biblical texts, (26) pervasive biblical allusions and quotations, (27) evidence of Passover traditions, (28) evidence of speeches held in conjunction with major Israelite festivals, (29) a whole suite of Hebraisms, including idioms and grammatical features, (30) Egyptianisms, (31) many dozens of proposed instances of Hebrew and Egyptian wordplay, as well as instances in which the text seems to be aware of the meaning of Hebrew terms and concepts in the underlying languages. I could keep going. But that should suffice for the moment. Some of these items are much more significant than others. It was intended to be a somewhat sporadic and eclectic list. But it is just very hard for me to look at the totality of the data and say that the text "screams that it was written in the 19th century America." To be sure, some of these items could be reasonably imitated from the Bible by a skilled forger. But even if we grant that possibility, look at the additional burden this places on Joseph Smith. It requires that he was unusually perceptive of many ancient literary forms and tendencies (some of which weren't discovered or well understood until the 20th century), while also being able to integrate them into a text that is ridiculously complex and consistent on so many other levels simultaneously. Especially problematic, in my mind, are the many dozens of wordplay proposals. There are too many strong candidates to reasonably suppose they arise by chance. And there just isn't any way that Smith could have guessed or intuited them all. In a few instances he could have, or he may have accessed texts like Josephus or biblical commentaries that display awareness of the meanings of certain biblical names. But that doesn't work in the aggregate. And it also places a burden of scholarship on him that seems historically unlikely, especially as the number of texts he must have accessed grows. From my perspective, the 19th-century authorship theory only works on a highly reductive and superficial level, where many lines of relevant textual data--both in regard to their antiquity and complexity--are unjustifiably downplayed or ignored. As Spencer keeps saying, those critical of the Book of Mormon generally aren't taking it seriously enough. They aren't accounting for most of the available data. They don't actually have a theory to explain it. At the very least, the idea that the text "screams" 19th century authorship is obvious hyperbole. On so many levels, the text doesn't look anything like what Joseph Smith (or really any author in the 19th century) could plausibly concoct, especially not under the unusually constraining circumstances of the translation. The fallback argument that many people accomplish "extraordinary" things is just not sufficient, as, without qualification, it could be used to explain just about any accomplishment, no matter how implausible, unexpected, or, dare I say, miraculous.

Honestly, I think your response illustrates my previous point perfectly. Here is what I said: I asked Gemini to compare the two works. Here is what it gave me: Factor The Book of Mormon (1829) War and Peace (1863–1869) Timeframe ~60–90 days of actual dictation (April–June 1829). 6–7 years of focused writing and research. Primary Method Oral Dictation: Joseph Smith dictated the text to scribes (primarily Oliver Cowdery). Manual Writing: Tolstoy wrote by hand, often in solitude, followed by heavy editing. Research/Tools None visible: Eyewitnesses (Emma Smith, David Whitmer) stated he had no books, notes, or manuscripts. Extensive: Tolstoy used a massive library, historical archives, and visited battlefields (Borodino). Drafting Process Single Draft: Eyewitnesses claimed Smith never asked to have the previous day’s portion read back and made almost no immediate revisions. Extreme Revision: Tolstoy rewrote the book multiple times. His wife, Sophia, famously copied the entire manuscript by hand at least seven times. Education Level Limited: Joseph Smith had approximately three years of formal frontier schooling. Elite: Tolstoy was a highly educated nobleman, fluent in multiple languages and deeply read in world literature. Length/Complexity ~270,000 words. Includes distinct internal cultures, complex lineages, and intricate chronologies. ~580,000 words. Features over 500 characters and blends fictional narrative with historical philosophy. In several obviously crucial areas, these texts are different. What you are proposing is almost like saying that since lots of short players make it into the NBA, it isn't implausible that someone who is 4 feet tall and only has one arm could be the number one draft pick next year. Yeah. It's possible. There have indeed been some unusually short players before. But there has never been another player quite like that, with that combination of limiting factors. It obviously isn't enough to point to Muggsy Bogues or Earl Boykins to support such a claim. That is true. But there are also degrees of "extraordinary." And the production of the Book of Mormon is sitting very close to the tippy top of the pile in its category (once all relevant factors are considered). It is often said that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. I find it interesting, though, that when multiple lines of truly extraordinary evidence are produced in support of an extraordinary claim, such evidence all of a sudden doesn't seem to matter anymore (simply because other people have done less extraordinary things in non-comparable circumstances). Take home message is that what Joseph Smith accomplished will never be extraordinary enough to count under some worldviews.

I'm genuinely not sure if this is you responding to my question or not. I'm not saying the text would have to be confirmed in a remarkable way in the areas I listed (DNA, congruity with ancient American history, etc.). I'm just wondering, if all of those issues went away, would you be much more inclined to believe?

"Hard to do" is an enormous understatement. This is an area where I think naturalistic theories really struggle. They tend to oversell the plausibility of Smith accomplishing the task based on limited comparisons with non-analogous texts and production processes, while ignoring (or just being innocently ignorant) of lots of other relevant complexity data. I love the Stormlight Archive and the Wheel of Time. In some ways, they are way more complex than the Book of Mormon. But in other ways the Book of Mormon has categories of complexity (and remarkable densities of complexity) that are way more impressive than these series. And there are just enormous differences in production processes, authorial profiles, and so forth. I have literally spent years now analyzing Book of Mormon complexity on a whole host of levels. Do I think this single line of evidence should force belief? No. Is it technically impossible for Smith to have pulled it off? That seems too strong. But so far I've just been unimpressed with the efforts I've seen to responsibly attempt to account for this feature, (from the likes of William Davis and others). To be fair, apologists can go way overboard in the other direction, taking single items or aspects of complexity that really aren't that dispositive on their own and then claim Smith could have "never" accomplished it. I've tried to tone down my own rhetoric over the years on that front. But, when I view this evidence category in the aggregate, I think it is actually a much bigger problem for critics than they know.

Default skepticism of the supernatural plays a very large part. There is no question about that. But you are correct to point out that there are other areas where the text of the Book of Mormon is not consistent with standard historical models of the Americas, or in which it might contain other perceived anachronisms. So we can add DNA and Anachronisms and parallels with 19th century texts and so forth as non-supernatural reasons to doubt or reject the text's claims. Seems pretty reasonable to me that these categories work together in conjunction with the skepticism of the supernatural. Even if all of that went away, I think most skeptics would still reject the text's claims (due to their supernatural nature), but these items add much fuel to fire, so to speak. Imagine, just for a moment, if all of these secondary issues (DNA, anachronisms, 19th-century parallels) went away and there was really no reason to doubt the text's claims on these fronts. Would you be significantly more willing to believe in it? You don't have to answer that, if you would rather not. But it is an interesting idea.