A Philosophical Exploration of
How Cultural Lenses Shape Religious Identity
Questions Worth Asking Series
Why are you LDS?
In exploring modern religions, one must consider the profound influence of cultural affiliation, particularly within the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, where a significant majority of American followers are born into the tradition. The 2014 Pew Religious Landscape Study found that approximately 69 percent of American Mormons were raised in the faith—a figure that inverts dramatically on the global stage, where 70 percent of Latter-day Saints worldwide came to the church through conversion. This demographic reality has not escaped LDS leadership. The church has made international temple construction an unmistakable priority, with President Russell M. Nelson announcing dozens of new temples across Africa, Asia, Latin America, and the Pacific Islands during his tenure. These temples represent more than architectural expansion; they signal an institutional pivot toward consolidating convert populations into the deeper ritual commitments that temples require, anchoring new members in practices that historically correlate with multi-generational retention.
This statistical paradox illuminates one of the most fascinating questions in the sociology of religion: What happens when cultural membership precedes—or even supplants—genuine doctrinal conviction?
The answer, as we shall discover, is far more nuanced than any simple binary might suggest, revealing a spectrum of religious engagement that challenges our assumptions about faith, belonging, and the very nature of belief itself.
The Phenomenology of Cultural Religion
To understand cultural Mormonism, we must first grapple with a fundamental philosophical question: What does it mean to “belong” to a religious tradition? The Western philosophical tradition, deeply influenced by Protestant emphases on personal faith and individual conviction, has often assumed that authentic religious identity begins with belief. One first believes, then belongs, then behaves accordingly.
Yet anthropological evidence from across human cultures suggests a more complex reality. As Dr. Matthew Bowman, the Howard W. Hunter Chair in Mormon Studies at Claremont Graduate University, observes in his analysis of cultural Mormonism:
“There are many religions around the world that place little or no weight upon what one believes. Polling regularly shows that very few Japanese people say that they ‘believe’ in any given religious tradition… And yet large majorities of Japanese people say that they practice Shintoism or Buddhism, and participation in religious rites is quite common. In short, in Japan being religious is about behaviour, what you do, more than it is about what you believe.”
— Reachout Trust
This observation opens a crucial window into understanding what might be called the “phenomenology of belonging”—the lived experience of religious identity that may operate independently of cognitive assent to doctrinal propositions. For many within the LDS community, identity as a Latter-day Saint constitutes what philosopher Charles Taylor might call a “background framework”—an inherited horizon of meaning within which all other experiences are interpreted and understood.
The Socialization of Sacred Identity
The process by which individuals come to inhabit a religious identity is fundamentally a process of socialization. From the earliest moments of consciousness, a child born into an LDS family is immersed in a comprehensive symbolic universe: family home evenings, Primary classes, the rhythm of Sunday meetings, the visual iconography of temples and tabernacles, the distinctive vocabulary of callings, testimonies, and eternal families.
This immersion creates what sociologist Peter Berger termed a “plausibility structure”—a social context within which certain beliefs and practices appear self-evidently true, natural, and unquestionable. The LDS faith is particularly effective at constructing such structures, with its emphasis on close-knit ward communities, multi-generational family participation, and institutional programs that accompany members from cradle to grave.
An influential typological analysis from Times and Seasons identified a two-dimensional framework for understanding Mormon religiosity, distinguishing between “spiritual commitment” (belief in core doctrines) and “social commitment” (adherence to cultural mores and community expectations):
“By spiritual commitment I mean level of belief in the core doctrines of Mormonism. E.g., does a person really believe that the Book of Mormon is ancient scripture? Does a person really believe that Joseph Smith was a prophet?… By social commitment I mean the level of commitment to social mores. This can be thought of in two ways. First, does a person regularly engage in behavior seen as stereotypically Mormon?”
— Times and Seasons
This framework yields four ideal types: the “Obediac Mormon” (high on both dimensions), the “Caffeinated Mormon” (spiritually committed but culturally flexible), the “Pretty Mormon” (socially conforming but spiritually uncommitted), and the “Paper Mormon” (low on both dimensions). While these categories necessarily oversimplify, they helpfully illuminate how spiritual conviction and cultural conformity can operate as distinct—and sometimes divergent—dimensions of religious identity.
The Empirical Reality: A Mormon Typology
Rigorous empirical research has confirmed the existence of these distinct patterns of religious engagement within the LDS community. The nationally representative Next Mormons Survey, designed by researchers Jana Riess and Benjamin Knoll and fielded in 2016, employed statistical procedures similar to those used by the Pew Research Center to identify dominant “typology groups” within American Mormonism.
Their analysis revealed two primary groups among self-identified Latter-day Saints:
The “Faithful and Obedient” comprise approximately 62 percent of self-identified American Mormons. This group demonstrates high levels of both religious practice and doctrinal orthodoxy: 94 percent attend church weekly, 80 percent pray daily, and 91 percent tithe regularly. As the researchers note:
“Nearly all (98%) say that they fully believe and/or have faith in most or all of LDS Church teachings. Four in five (82%) say that they should obey their leaders even if it conflicts with their individual conscience, and another four in five (78%) currently hold a temple recommend.”
— Religion in Public
The “Relaxed but Engaged” constitute the remaining 38 percent. This group presents a more complex portrait of religious identity. While most still attend church regularly (46 percent weekly, 31 percent monthly), their relationship to doctrine and practice is markedly different:
“In terms of belief, a little over half (60%) say that they believe or have faith in most or all of LDS Church teachings. They are more likely to value individual conscience over counsel from their leaders (79%), and only 10% have a current temple recommend.”
— Religion in Public
Crucially, the research notes that this means approximately one-quarter of those attending LDS services on any given Sunday fall into this “relaxed but engaged” category—individuals who find value in the community and participate regularly, yet who may not wholeheartedly embrace official doctrines, pay tithing, hold temple recommends, or fully observe the Word of Wisdom. These members occupy a precarious social position, often receiving constant pressure to conform more fully—through temple recommend interviews that probe personal worthiness, testimonies shared from the pulpit that model expected belief, lessons emphasizing covenant-keeping and obedience, and the watchful concern of visiting ministers and ward leaders. The gap between their private reservations and the public expectations surrounding them creates a persistent tension that institutional structures seem designed, whether intentionally or not, to resolve in favor of greater conformity rather than authentic accommodation of doubt.
The Conspiracy of Silence: Hidden Disbelief
Perhaps the most philosophically troubling dimension of cultural Mormonism concerns those who actively participate while privately disbelieving. This phenomenon has been described by some observers as a “covenant of hushed disbelief”—a tacit agreement among some members to maintain appearances while harboring serious doubts or outright rejection of foundational claims.
The testimonies of those who have navigated this terrain are revealing:
“I kept expecting the next group of peers that I became part of in the church to be different from my current one, to have answers to the huge doubts I had. Each time I would get to the next level, they would just say wait, it will be better when you reach the next point. Finally, I reached a leadership position where I thought all the secrets were kept and they would finally have the answers. There everyone just agreed that there were no answers and it wasn’t true but we needed to keep that to ourselves so that we wouldn’t hurt those around us.”
— Pastor Unlikely
Such accounts—whether representative or exceptional—raise profound questions about authenticity, community, and the social functions of religious institutions. What does it mean for a community when some portion of its most visible participants are performing rather than believing? And what psychological and spiritual toll does such performance exact?
The Cost of Departure: Social Economics of Faith
Understanding cultural Mormonism requires acknowledging the substantial social costs associated with departure from the community. The LDS church, by design, creates dense networks of social, familial, and often economic interdependence. Ward boundaries create geographic communities. Family home evenings and multi-generational temple ordinances bind families across time. In regions with high LDS population density, business and professional networks may be substantially Mormon.
This social architecture, while providing genuine community and support for committed members, can function as what sociologists term a “high exit cost” system. For those who find themselves doubting, the calculation is not simply between belief and unbelief, but between maintaining an established identity, community, family relationships, and social standing—or risking their dissolution.
As one former Mormon explained regarding a family member:
“One father recently admitted that he had not believed for the past 40 years. Yet, he raised 7 kids in the Mormon Church and encouraged his many grandkids to be raised the same. He did not want to lose that family connection that the church so emphasizes. He was miserable and his faith was based upon lies, but the kids did not know that!”
— Pastor Unlikely
Cultural Lenses and the Construction of Reality
From a philosophical anthropology perspective, the phenomenon of cultural Mormonism illustrates how deeply cultural frameworks shape not merely our beliefs but our very perception of reality. The child raised within the LDS symbolic universe does not merely learn to believe certain propositions; they learn to see the world through a particular lens, to experience reality according to a particular grammar. This formation begins in the nursery, where toddlers are taught to fold their arms and bow their heads in prayer, and continues through Primary classes, where children as young as three sing “I Am a Child of God” and “Follow the Prophet”—songs that embed theological claims within memorable melodies long before critical faculties develop. By age eight, children are expected to demonstrate sufficient understanding of baptism, having already internalized narratives about Joseph Smith’s First Vision, the Book of Mormon as ancient scripture, and the Church as God’s exclusively true institution on earth. Sunday after Sunday, year after year, through Seminary classes in high school, youth conferences, and young adult wards, the interpretive framework deepens: spiritual experiences are labeled as the Holy Ghost confirming truth, doubts are identified as Satan’s influence or personal unworthiness, and the category of “anti-Mormon lies” is established to preemptively discredit contradictory information. By adulthood, this grammar of faith has become so thoroughly internalized that it functions not as one possible interpretation of experience but as the self-evident structure of reality itself.
This cultural lens shapes everything from temporal experience (with its eschatological horizon of eternal progression) to family relationships (with their eternal significance) to personal identity (understood in terms of pre-mortal existence, mortality as a test, and potential divine destiny). These are not merely beliefs held at arm’s length; they constitute the very framework within which experience becomes intelligible.
When such a comprehensive framework is inherited rather than chosen, questions of authenticity become genuinely complex. Can one simply “choose” to see the world differently? The phenomenological evidence suggests that cultural frameworks possess remarkable persistence, shaping perception and experience long after explicit belief has waned.
The Tension of Plurality Within Unity
The research revealing substantial diversity within LDS pews presents challenges for an institution that emphasizes unity, correlation, and adherence to prophetic leadership. The Next Mormons Survey findings are particularly significant:
“The LDS community should keep in mind that about a quarter of those in the pews every week are Relaxed but Engaged. That means that there is a sizable minority who find value in the social aspect of the Church but who don’t believe wholeheartedly in LDS church teachings, don’t pay tithing, don’t hold a temple recommend, and who drink coffee and alcohol and take the counsel of church leaders with a grain of salt.”
— Religion in Public
The researchers note that managing this “productive tension” between fully committed and more loosely affiliated members represents one of the most significant challenges facing LDS leadership in the coming decades, particularly as secularization increases and younger generations demonstrate higher rates of religious disaffiliation across all traditions.
Avoiding Reductionism: The Complexity of Lived Religion
It would be a philosophical error to interpret these findings reductively, as though they revealed cultural Mormonism to be “merely” social conformity without genuine spiritual content. Human religious experience is irreducibly complex, and individuals may hold multiple, seemingly contradictory orientations simultaneously.
A person may genuinely experience spiritual transcendence during a temple ceremony while harboring intellectual doubts about historical claims. Another may participate primarily for social reasons yet find that practice gradually generates authentic spiritual experience. Still another may move fluidly between modes of engagement over a lifetime, sometimes fervent, sometimes doubtful, sometimes simply habitual.
The Times and Seasons typology wisely cautions:
“We should think of these corner positions as extremes that few real people reach; most of us are somewhere within the chart itself.”
— Times and Seasons
Moreover, the distinction between “authentic” spiritual commitment and “mere” cultural conformity may be philosophically suspect itself. If religious traditions are fundamentally communal, embodied practices rather than merely cognitive systems, then participation in community and practice may be constitutive of religious identity, not simply derivative of prior belief.
Conclusion: Questions Worth Asking
The phenomenon of cultural Mormonism, far from being a defective or derivative form of religiosity, may illuminate fundamental truths about the nature of human religious experience more broadly. It reveals that religious identity is not reducible to propositional belief, that community belonging can be genuine even when conviction wavers, and that the relationship between practice and belief is bidirectional and complex.
Yet it also raises important questions—both for the LDS community specifically and for students of religion generally:
- What responsibilities do religious institutions bear toward members who participate but do not believe?
- How should communities balance the goods of unity and orthodoxy against the goods of honesty and inclusion?
- What constitutes “authentic” religious identity when cultural formation precedes conscious choice?
- How might faith communities create space for doubt and questioning without losing their distinctive commitments?
The data suggests that the “Relaxed but Engaged” may constitute more than a third of self-identified American Mormons, with some portion of weekly attenders falling into categories that range from cafeteria participation to what some have called “closeted unbelief.” One cannot help but wonder: when we account for those who attend but no longer truly believe, those who believe but selectively practice, and those for whom the faith is primarily a cultural inheritance rather than a spiritual conviction, just how many members of the LDS church today might best be described as “Casual Mormons”?
And perhaps more importantly: what does this mean for the future of a faith tradition built upon claims of exclusive prophetic authority and restored truth? These questions have no easy answers, but they are surely worth asking—both for those within the tradition seeking to understand their own experience, and for those outside seeking to understand one of modernity’s most distinctive religious communities.
Yet the principles examined here extend far beyond any single religious movement. The mechanisms of epistemological closure, the elevation of subjective experience over objective evidence, the conflation of institutional loyalty with spiritual fidelity—these dynamics operate wherever human beings gather around claims of transcendent authority. The seeker exploring Eastern mysticism, the convert drawn to charismatic Christianity, the spiritual-but-not-religious individual constructing a personalized faith from disparate sources: all would do well to ask themselves the hard questions this analysis provokes. Does my belief system permit genuine falsification, or have I unwittingly adopted frameworks that render doubt itself evidence of failure? Do my spiritual authorities welcome scrutiny, or do they discourage the very questions that might reveal inconvenient truths? The LDS experience, precisely because it represents such an instructive case study in religious epistemology, offers lessons that transcend its particular boundaries—a caution to all who seek truth through faith to remain vigilant against the subtle ways certainty can become its own kind of blindness.
The author approaches this subject from a philosophical point of view, committed to understanding religious phenomena in their full complexity while acknowledging the genuine diversity of human religious experience.
