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In light of the current status of "impeccible" with D. Michael Quinn

Research by Kerry A. Shirts

which I disagree with and quite strongly, I feel it is necessary to see another dimension of Quinn's work, not necessarily his person, though this is interesting as well. His work either stands or falls on itself, and I believe that it is far from "impeccible", or even "objective." This is not even necessarily a negative view in my opinion either, it's just that it is important to keep balanced views when dealing with any history work. It seems as though the minute someone hails from far and wide or even from within Mormonism who comes to differing conclusions than Church Historians, then the outsider is hailed as mighty historian, bearer of truth, with impeccible methodology. This is not necessarily the case. Consider Novak's review of Quinn's essay in George D. Smith's book "Faithful History":

George D. Smith, ed., Faithful History: Essays on Writing Mormon History (Gary F. Novak)

(Gary F. Novak, Review of Books on the Book of Mormon, p.232-23

Smith then discourses on the history of historiography, but this effort is elementary at best. The reason for the paragraphs on the history of history is to introduce distinctions between verifiable facts, factual events, and their relationship to a more inclusive past and relativist methodologies that have added religious presuppositions to the terms of inquiry (p. viii). Smith clearly sides with the factual, more inclusive past since the reexamination of traditional accounts

in the context of contemporary American culture [have] challenged some of the sources (p. viii). These sources turn out to be, in some cases, the foundation texts for the Church: the First Vision, the vision of the three degrees of glory, and the Book of Mormon (p. xi). Not surprisingly, Smith is careful to point out that Joseph Smith’s inspiration cannot be verified; the words of the three witnesses express their beliefs but they cannot prove the authenticity of the Book of Mormon (p. ix). Smith is not critical of his own objectivist ideology and distorts or oversimplifies the position of those who provide that criticism.

Other oddities also occur. Quinn informs us that as a boy he subjected any religious proposition to rigid analysis (p. 73). Of course he means rigorous analysis; one can only begin to speculate to what "rigid analysis" might refer. By the time he was eighteen he had made a line- by-line comparison of the 1830 Book of Mormon with later editions (p. 73). While this task is no doubt noble, the footnote claims that the most detailed presentation of all changes in the Book of Mormon’s published 1830 text is the non-scholarly study by Jerald and Sandra Tanner (p. 101). Quinn seems unaware of the Critical Edition of the Book Mormon published by F.A.R.M.S. Finally, Quinn tells us that he completed a score of publications in LDS history, several of which have been described as ‘controversial’ by some people (p. 74). Curiously, the footnote does not mention any book or article Quinn had written before 1981, but instead refers to reviews of two books written after he had delivered the original talk.

Of course Quinn’s personal odyssey ought not to have any bearing on his defense of objective history, New Mormon History, and environmental explanations of the foundation texts. Indeed, except for establishing his sincerity and honesty, which Quinn clearly thinks are relevant to a defense of New Mormon History, it is difficult to establish a clear connection between Quinn’s personal history and a theoretical discussion of objectivity and environmental explanations.

When historians use the word "objectivity," it is clear that it either functions as a part of a system of rewards and punishments or as a way of handling evidence. For example, when criticizing Fawn Brodie’s No Man Knows My History, Marvin Hill wonders whether Brodie was very objective in formulating her thesis. Hill goes on in the next paragraph to expand somewhat on his criticism: It is difficult to understand how Brodie could have so badly misjudged Asael unless she formulated her thesis before she examined his writings. Here Hill gives a clear example of one of the functions of objectivity: Brodie is punished for her thesis. Hill also provides a good example of using the word "objectivity" to evaluate evidence: Furthermore, [historians] have perhaps been satisfied with what Brodie had to say and seem hesitant to deal with Smith’s visions, his golden plates and his witnesses, all of which are awkward to handle objectively. In this case what Hill means by objective is that historians are unable to experience Joseph’s visions or examine the gold plates themselves. Of course, there seem to be no objective standards of objectivity. For Dale L. Morgan, No Man Knows My History was very nearly the last word in objective scholarship on Joseph Smith.

When Quinn begins to discuss theoretical issues, the essay goes from bad to worse. Quinn complains about criticism from Boyd K. Packer, Ezra Taft Benson, and Louis Midgley regarding environmental explanations of the Church’s foundation events. Quinn defines the word environment so broadly that the word loses almost all meaning. Without environmental influence or surrounding significant circumstances, says Quinn, there would be no revelation from God to the prophets (p. 77). It would, of course, be silly to say that prophets are unaware of their environment in the sense of being aware of circumstances around them. But this is clearly not the sort of thing New Mormon Historians, for lack of a better term, mean when they call certain kinds of explanations environmental or naturalistic.

What is meant when using the term environmental to explain the foundation texts, especially the Book of Mormon? Richard Bushman says, According to the environmentalists, Joseph absorbed images, attitudes, and conceptions from upstate New York rural culture and wove them into the Book of Mormon. The point of discovering what parts of the upstate New York environment went into the Book of Mormon is to demonstrate how Joseph Smith may have fabricated it. When George D. Smith discusses the sources of the Book of Mormon, he provides a genuinely environmental explanation. For Smith, the sources of the Book of Mormon include Joseph Smith’s own personal experiences, Ethan Smith’s View of the Hebrews, stories of the mysterious Indian burial mounds, and facile borrowings from the Bible. Smith’s explanation comes down clearly on the not-prophet side of the prophet/not-prophet dichotomy.

Whatever else may be said about environmental explanations, they are clearly not benign nor merely conditions that prophets observe or experience (p. 77). To attempt to define the word environmental so broadly as to include everything is merely an attempt at softening the language. Quinn would have done better to examine carefully the way Elder Packer and Midgley use the word, examine the sorts of arguments to which they object, compare their arguments with the examples they employ, and then object to their examples if incorrectly used. Providing a soft or thin definition of environmental serves only to cloud the issues.

After softening the definition of environmental, Quinn introduces a distinction between monistic history and pluralistic history (p. 79). Pluralistic history is, of course, the good history because it considers more than one explanation (p. 79). Pluralistic history is also preferable because it acknowledge[s] the existence of other reasonable, honest, and conscientious interpretations (p. 80). Although I do not wish to argue solely for monistic histories, if these are the categories in which I must work, these personal qualities of the pluralistic historian, while admirable, do not guarantee true history.

Quinn then illustrates how alternative explanations and differing categories can be employed for the good of pluralistic history. According to Quinn, the Book of Mormon suggests that the destruction of the Nephites can be attributed to adultery, fornication, the Gadianton robbers, secret combinations, unrighteous lawyers and judges, and pride (p. 80). He then suggests that secular terms can be used to describe the same events. Those terms include moral disintegration, social disorganization, political discontinuity, and socio-economic disparity.

However, it is not at all clear that these terms can be substituted without loss of meaning. Within the latter categories, a strong and talented tyrant might be as good a solution as, if not actually preferable to, the Book of Mormon solution of repentance. Notice also that any suggestion of sin, moral responsibility, and alienation from God is absent from Quinn’s secular terms. From the point of view of Book of Mormon prophets, any explanation that excluded the sins, pride, and follies of the Nephites would be a blatant misunderstanding of the situation and the only real solution, repentance.

Quinn’s argument borders on the truly funny when he claims that Elder Packer’s suggestion for seeing the hand of the Lord in our history leads to the Mormon equivalent of the Roman Catholic doctrine of papal infallibility (p. 81). As if this were not enough, Quinn next appeals to the LDS doctrine of free agency to support his pluralistic history. He then leads us, not surprisingly, through benignly angelic Church leaders, accommodation history (p. 84), cushioning evidence, a protective, paranoid approach to our past (p. 85), and a public relations defense

(p. 86). Quinn’s reductio has a flair for hyperbole, but it does not exceed what follows in his Aftermath.

The Aftermath recounts the persecution Quinn has suffered since delivering the original talk. Although advised against publishing "On Being a Mormon Historian," Quinn cannot imagine that the reasons could be anything but personal. Private conversations with deans, apostles, and students, some of them clearly based on hearsay, contain quotation marks (p. 92). Does Quinn possess notes he took of these conversations? Where is this material coming from?

Quinn portrays his college dean, the late Martin Hickman, as conveying persecution from General Authorities and later lamenting that practice. In the early 1980s, Dean Hickman held numerous conversations with those involved in what was then called the Mormon history debate. Other reports of these conversations have also been published by New Mormon Historians, sometimes as a defense for their own actions, sometimes as an attempt to silence criticism.

Although it is difficult to determine exactly what may or may not have taken place in these meetings, especially since it is no longer possible simply to ask Dean Hickman, there is undoubtedly another side to this story which has yet to be told.

Quinn points out that the persecution involved attempted censoring of various manuscripts and that he lived in a climate of repression. Of course, no one ever gave [him] an ultimatum or threatened to fire [him] from Brigham Young University, but he resigned anyway (p. 93). The extinction of free thought at BYU made it "an Auschwitz of the mind" (p. 94). Quinn cannot provide a single example of any censorship other than people offering him their advice. But if he cannot see that their advice was in his best interest it is not their fault. The hyperbole of Quinn’s statements is obvious, but, at least as far as Auschwitz is concerned, Quinn should be careful not to trifle with serious matters.

In discussing this supposed objectivity when dealing with the Book of Mormon, I think Stephen D. Ricks has said it best:

"An even more extreme methodological objection to taking seriously an ancient setting for the Book of Mormon comes from a rather prolific writer on the Book of Mormon from an environmentalist perspective who recently claimed, in my hearing, that translations only inform the reader about the period of time in which the translations were made. The implications of such a deconstructionist position are simply astonishing: where we had imagined that in reading the Bible in the King James Version, Revised Standard Version, New International Version, or the Jewish Publication Society Translation we would learn something about ancient Israel or the life of Jesus and the early Church, we were actually learning about the England of James I or of Victoria, or America of the twentieth century. Indeed, in this view all translations, whether they be of ancient literature or not, may appropriately be tossed out. While such a position may justifiably strain our credulity, this claim is useful in justifying ignoring evidence for the Book of Mormon as an ancient document.

Assertions of objectivity and accusations of partisanship have sometimes been brought to bear in discussions of the Book of Mormon. Some of the misunderstandings on the matter of objectivity have resulted from conflicting definitions, other misperceptions from an uncareful use of words. The issue of objectivity, as it occurs in discussions concerning the writing of history, does not revolve around whether events actually occurred at a given time and under given circumstances. No one on either side of the discussion concerning the historicity of the Book of Mormon disagrees that events did occur that something happened in 600 B.C. or A.D. 1829. Rather, what is at stake in discussions of objectivity centers on recognizing that everyone approaches events with presuppositions, assumptions, and preunderstandings that aid him in selecting and categorizing those events in a coherent fashion. The question, according to Arthur H. King and C. Terry Warner, is not whether the historian, like other craftsmen, colors what he makes with his own personality, for inevitably he does. Rather, the question is what sort of colors he gives it. The quest for assumptions and preunderstandings one’s own or those of others remains perennially relevant. King and Warner further warn that history written with the pretense of objectivity becomes merely an affectation, a style deliberately adopted with an eye for professional legitimacy and success.

It is, then, hardly correct to state that those who claim that the Book of Mormon is ancient are not being objective while those who deny such claims are. The very fact that many of those who make the latter assertion have not even looked at the ancient evidence in any sort of systematic fashion is itself an indication that there has been a hardy lack of objectivity on their part. Nor is the enterprise of writing history involved in proving or disproving but in sustaining, enhancing, or questioning plausibility. Here, again, those who would question or impugn the historicity of the Book of Mormon do not hold the higher ground the realm of proof while those who support its historical authenticity labor in the realm of mere plausibility, although this has been suggested. While the Book of Mormon can be studied without any particular regard to its truth claims, the window is fairly narrow: such a study would have to deal with the way in which the work has been used in the community of believers and outside of it, and what influence it may have had."

(Stephen D. Ricks, Review of Books on the Book of Mormon, p. 140-141)

Of all historians of Mormonism, the non-Mormon historian Jan Shipps perhaps has the very best case for being objective, yet consider her case. In the long run, no matter how we view historians and their craft, there is simply no objectivity available. This is not necessarily negative unless one views the idea that objectivity is truth and any ideology or subjectivity involved in the process of writing history produces only blather or sanitized history. This is simply a strawman trying to excuse people from reading both sides of the issues.

Midgley's Review of Mormonism: The Story of a New Religious Tradition

Jan Shipps. Mormonism: The Story of a New Religious Tradition. Reviewed by Louis Midgley

(FARMS, Review of Books on the Book of Mormon, Vol.7, Number 2, p.234-238)

She also distinguishes what she calls "sacred history" from "ordinary history." While I am not opposed in principle to such a distinction, I worry about what she tries to do with it. She insists "that there are two separate and distinct kinds of history of any religious tradition and that Mormonism is no exception. It has a sacred history and it has an ordinary history, and these are very different things." But are they different? She does not argue the issue but merely opines. She states a corollary: "history as a scholarly discipline treats humanity's perception of divinity's dealings with it while history as a sacred story treats God's dealings with mankind more directly." "Sacred history" is seen as taking on "a mythic character which makes it 'truer than true,' if [p.235] by truth one means that which is established and verified according to the canons of historical

scholarship." Here is where she goes wrong. She has driven a wedge between "what really happened" her "ordinary history" and the story (myth if you will) forming and grounding the identity of the Saints.

But for the Saints what Shipps calls "sacred history" is ordinary history that has taken on mythic dimensions and thereby constitutes their story, their relationship to God, the explanation of their trials, the ground for their hopes, and so on. For Shipps, "ordinary history" is presumably about "what really happened," while "Mormonism's sacred history, like all sacred history, is a part of the mythological dimension of this religion. By its very nature it can only be retold and defended, not reinvestigated; re-searched." On this she is at least partially wrong.

For Shipps, the contents of the Book of Mormon become "sacred," and thereby "it becomes something other than a book" for those who accept its historicity (p. 29) it functions in a mythic dimension. Suppose Shipps is right: Can myth the story not be real? Why not? Efforts to examine it, she claims, in the case of the Book of Mormon, lead "only to plausibility," but not to the proof that is what historians seek while doing "ordinary history." This opinion so confidently though casually set forth may best be understood as her own confessional and professional boundary maintenance mechanism. It is certainly not, as I will show, a mature reflection on either the Book of Mormon or on historical methodology.

Though Shipps recognizes that the Book of Mormon appears to be history, her secular orientation she now identifies it with "religious studies"demands that she turn it into mere mythology. Hence, when the faithful accept it as history, they are mistaken in assuming that it is about a genuine past. If, as she claims, the Book of Mormon, because it contains sacred things, becomes something more than history, what exactly does it become? Certainly not a bird or a plane it becomes their canon, a sacred book or scripture, a book containing the word of God, and thus takes on a mythic dimension in the life of the community of [p.236] believers. Is Shipps arguing, I wonder, that such a book simply cannot be true but only "truer than true," whatever that means, in perhaps the way mythologies that make no claim to being about reality might be thought to be true?

Certainly by containing matters sacred to the faithful, the Book of Mormon does not somehow cease to be a text whose historical claims can be tested in exactly the same way as any other text that appears to be or is thought to be ancient. Shipps grants as much: "nothing distinguishes it from all other books except its claim to be a record of God's dealing with His people in the Western Hemisphere" (p. 29). But she sees in this claim an ingredient that transforms the Book of Mormon into "something more than mere propositions; they become true.

But how? In what manner was this book, whose origin was explained in supernatural terms, transmuted into a record of actual events involving real people?" (p. 29, emphasis added). She should be asking in what way a history of real events and peoples takes on a mythic dimension, becomes a founding story, assumes the role of sacred history. The answer: by having the Divine present in the story, and then through faith. That is exactly what transforms ordinary historia into sacred mythos. Of course, not all myths are genuinely historical nor involve real peoples or events. How can we tell? Is the Book of Mormon about reality? Though we will very likely never have anything approaching a final proof, we can and do have what Shipps calls plausibility. And the Saints can have something approaching a prophetic charism, without which there is only plausibility.

Clearly Shipps confuses how we happen to have gotten the Book of Mormon with the question of whether it is an authentic history. Merely labeling the method by which Joseph Smith claimed to have gotten the record as "supernatural" does not thereby automatically preclude the possibility that it can either be tested or turn out to be true, unless one begins with the dogmatic presupposition that "you don't get books from angels and translate them by miracles."

For Shipps, those who accept the historicity of the Book of Mormon are described in the past tense. This tactic allows her to explain that in the age in which this book and the story of its coming forth were originally circulated, "the Bible was still culturally defined as an undoubtedly authentic record of actual events involving real people" (p. 29), that is, it had not been entirely reduced to a mere myth without historical reality by skeptical scholars. Hence it was easy for those rustics who were heavily involved in a cultural context in which the Bible and also "magic" and the "occult" worked together to believe the story of the angel and the book. And she also appropriates the notion that one of the purposes of the Book of Mormon was to counter skepticism by bolstering the Bible, since there was then, just as now, much skepticism about divine things in the age in which the Book of Mormon came forth. But the Book of Mormon is as much an object of skepticism as is the Bible.

But people, lots of them it seems, believe that the Book of Mormon is an authentic ancient history and also the word of God. How does Shipps explain this fact? Do they simply make a mistake and confuse myth and legend or frontier fiction with real history? Do they need to be enlightened on such matters by contemporary experts in secular religious studies? Presumably, for reasons she does not explain, those who receive the Book of Mormon turn out to want it to be true, and some of them even work to show that it is an authentic ancient record, but they only come up with plausibility, since they are dealing with "sacred history," and therefore not with proof, which is presumably what she thinks real historians arrive at in doing ordinary history with the current canons of the history profession. But again, on this issue she is simply wrong.

Plausibility is about as good as it gets for anything other than the most trivial questions that historians take up. From my perspective, Shipps seems innocent or naive about historical method. It seems that she assumes that objectivity is possible, that facts are what historians work with, and that they generate proofs.

Historians in thrall to one or another variety of positivism might talk that way. "Thus, the story of Mormon beginnings," according to Shipps, "appears to be an exception to the normal modern expectation that natural explanation based on objective [p.238] evidence will be more persuasive than supernatural explanation growing from subjective accounts" (pp. 44-45). She concludes:

Like the gospels that include the story of the resurrection of Jesus without supporting it with objective evidence obtained from persons outside the incipient Christian community, the Mormon story includes an account of the translation of the Book of Mormon supported only by the testimony of members of the incipient LDS community. (p. 45)

Presumably, one can describe the evidence for the resurrection as "objective" if and only if the texts reporting eyewitness experience with the resurrected Jesus come from people who did not believe that he was resurrected. Does the mere fact that one believed that Jesus was in fact resurrected somehow preclude one's report of actually seeing him alive after his crucifixion from

being counted as "objective evidence"?

Shipps reports that so-called "supernatural explanations," that is, what amount to accounts from eyewitnesses of events in which the Divine was manifested in one way or another, have proved persuasive to people who have become Latter-day Saints, "notwithstanding the commonsense arguments that, in an open and public manner, have repeatedly called into question the supernatural explanation that undergirds the Mormon story" (p. 45).

Naturalistic explanations of Mormon beginnings turn out to have no more objectivity than do the arguments presented by the Saints in support of their story. The differences are in the explanation, which in one case includes the Divine, and in the other case excludes the Divine not in one side offering objective demonstrations and the other side appealing merely to subjective feelings. Is there some reason, other than a predisposition to distrust stories that include encounters with the Divine, to exclude, on principle, the possibility that Joseph Smith was God's prophet and the Book of Mormon an authentic ancient history? If there is, Shipps has not identified it.

Though Shipps adamantly insists that she is not in the least interested in Book of Mormon truth claims, her very unwillingness to even report on the current state of the debate over its historical [p.239] authenticity, and in that sense genuinely leave the issue open, betrays a bias against its truth claims. This is unfortunate, because she has some interesting and perhaps even important things to say about the links between Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon in the faith of Latter-day Saints.

The idea that history is always written with the historians views in mind as well is also told from Daniel Ludlow's perspective in crisp and clear terms.

(Daniel H. Ludlow, Joseph Smith Memorial, 16 Jan. 1977, p.9).

History is always of private interpretation. Prophecy is never of private interpretation. Prophecy is given by the influence of God through the Holy Ghost upon worthy men, and the only way it can be interpreted is by the influence of the Holy Ghost upon them. (See 2 Peter 1:20-21.) Now. please don't misunderstand I'm not trying to belittle history. In fact, I majored in history here at Utah State University because of the influence of Dr. Daryl Chase, Brother W. W. Richards and Dr. Milton R. Hunter who were on the Institute faculty at that time. I decided to major in history as I then planned to become an Institute teacher. I respect historians. So far as I know they are honest, sincere people. Therefore, when I say that the historian cannot be completely objective, I'm not saying this in a derogatory sense. But the fact is, they cannot be completely objective. The historian is always prejudiced. He always makes prejudgments. He decides what

he is going to tell you, and what he is not going to tell you; what he is going to put in a chapter, and what he is going to put in a sentence. And the historian is a different person than he would have been if he had not known concerning that event. Therefore, the event has had an influence upon him. Thus the historian can never be completely objective as he always speaks from a prejudiced viewpoint. Perhaps that is why we don't have a good history of the church. Who would write it? Certainly not a member of the Church, because he is prejudiced; he has made some prejudgments. But certainly a nonmember of the Church could not write an objective history of the Church either, because he is also prejudiced; he has made some prejudgments. And I have never been able to figure out who is not either a member of the Church or a nonmember of the Church; thus I don't know who will write that history.

Now please don't misunderstand. I don't believe a prophet can be completely objective either. But a prophet can be more objective than an historian even if they are both trying equally to be honest and sincere. The prophet can be more objective than the historian for this major reason: He is not a product of the event, because the event has not yet happened. Therefore, I would rather take prophecy over history any day. Of the two, I think prophecy is more sure.

J. Keith Melville adds:

(Book Reviews, BYU Studies, Vol. 3, No. 2, p.75)

If the knowledgeable Mormon cannot write an objective history of the Mormons because of unavoidable bias, the non-Mormon who fails to comprehend the elan vital of Mormonism also will fall short in his quest for objectivity.

J. Keith Melville

John A. Widtsoe, a Mormon scientist was fully aware of the importance of realizing the scholar's prediliections when it came to dealing with sacred texts. There are limitations to scholarship when analyzing religion. It is just that simple.

(John A. Widtsoe, Evidences and Reconciliations, p.118 - p.119)

Another group of workers has undertaken to discover the origin, authorship, and history of the many parts of the Bible. Their avowed objective is not to discredit the Bible, but to discover truth. To accomplish their purpose, methods of literary and historical criticism have been employed. From dissimilarities in style and contemporary historical sources, and by other means it has been inferred, for example, that certain books of the Bible are composites of several original

manuscripts, or have been written by several authors. This is the so-called Higher Criticism. However honest and God-fearing these workers may be, many of their conclusions and explanations remain in the field of inference, not of fact. Whether the Pentateuch and Joshua are made up from four original documents, or the Gospel of John and the Book of Revelation were written by two different writers, or Paul did not write the Epistle to the Hebrews, may ever remain in the region of hypothesis, so far as the findings of Biblical scholars are concerned. The purpose

of Higher Criticism may be acceptable; but its limitations must ever be kept in mind. Theories have the same value in Biblical study as in chemistry, but no more; and theories are forever changing. This is well brought out in the "modern trend" in Biblical criticism (Willett, The Bible Through the Centuries; White, A History of the Warfare of Science and Theology in Christendom; Journal of Bible and Religion, Vol. 6, part 2).

Finally, to end with for now, Hugh Nibley has shown that just because scholars bandy together in proclaiming this truth or that truth about what happened in history, does not make it so. Our entire past has been controlled through the manipulation of the documents.

(Collected Works of Hugh Nibley, Vol.4, Ch.6, p.214 - p.215)

Long ago Socrates showed what a hollow thing consensus is. More recently, in 1932, Olaf Linton published his now famous study of what he calls "the Consensus" of church history in the nineteenth century. Therein he shows how the scholars when they think they are being most sound, most objective, and most scientific in their construction of church history, are actually doing little more than faithfully reflecting their own background and conditioning. As they are liberal, democratic, congregational, individualist, so must the "primitive church" be; if they like ritual, so did it; if they eschewed it, so did the early Christians. But what the general public dreams not of, and even the experts underestimate, is that the invention of history has been a major industry for many centuries, one of the primary concerns of scholars having been in every age to control the

past. This is a serious, but not criminal charge, for as we shall presently see, it is virtually impossible for anyone to handle ancient records without in some way having to control them; and so, as the records have been handed on from one generation to the next, there has been exercised over them a cumulative, all-pervasive, and thorough control.

A proper understanding of the role of the historian, or the religious leader, or the enemy is necessary when dealing with history, no matter from what perspective. Just because someone writes a noble piece and is contentious and gets excommunicated from Mormonism in no wise all the sudden proves that person was being objective. His work stands or falls on its own merits, not in relation to what his religion does to him or her.

Just one more example, concerning D. Michael Quinn's "The Mormon Hierarchy".

Marvin Hill in his review of D. Michael Quinn's "The Mormon Hierarchy" in "Sunstone" Dec., 1995, noted that "It seems that Quinn is too concerned with correcting traditional views of Church organization and government and does not scrutinize closely the nature of the system and how it works." (p. 77). Even more telling Hill notes "We need to know something about the nature of Mormon leadership. Do these men actually lead, or are they representative men who gain and keep their power by personifying Mormon ideals? Do they shape Mormonism, or are they largely shaped by it? Rather than adark lust for power, which Quinn depicts, had they no religious values and feelings? Were there no Christians, no good guys? Was there no brotherhood or love among them?" (p. 79).

Further, Hill notes "Quinn says that in the beginning only Joseph Smith and Oliver Cowdery spoke about having authority given directly from heaven. But this is contradicted by E.D. Howe, who says that in 1831, when the elders frist came to Kirtland, 'friends and advocates of the wonderful book [the Book of Mormon] state that Mr. Cowdery has his commission directly from heaven.'" (p. 78).

Quinn also dismisses Joseph Smith's clear statement that he received his authority via angelic visitations rather than charismatically. Quinn says it was not known, but "Frederick G. Williams, Joseph's scribe, certainly knew about it, and there is no reason to think he would have been quiet about it." (p. 78).

After noting many other problems, Hill laments that "If the overly negative image of the LDS hierarchy drawn by too many historians can ever fairly be offset, such an open, honest, but sympathetic study is needed. As of now, there is no definitive study of the Mormon hierarchy." (p. 79).

So much for Quinn's objective, impeccible history writing!

Gregory A. Prince also noticed that Quinn "In 'Hierarchy', elegantly describes the *functioning* of the hierarchy (chapters 2 - 6), yet grossly misinterprets the foundation upon which that hierarchy was built (chapter 1)." (p. 80). Note that! "Grossly misinterprets".... This is not a small and unimportant blunder, but the major flaw of Quinn's supposed impeccible work!

Prince also notes the importance of the Book of Mormon as a model for the hierarchy which Quinn ignores! (p. 80). In 3 Nephi Christ set up his church which obviously Joseph and Oliver were aware of as well as the need for organization in a hierarchy. And this is impeccible research?! Objective?! Really??

More interesting still "The process of priesthood development continued throughout Smith's life, a fact minimized by Quinn." (p. 82). The overshadowing and important build-up of Elijah, which eclipses John the Baptist and Peter,James, and John in the later writings and sermons of Joseph Smith is given only one mere page by Quinn! (p. 82).

And finally, on the women and priesthood issue - "For example, there is no evidence that during that period (1830's- 1843), they [women] performed any of the following ordinances or other functions: ordination, baptism, confirmation, administration of the sacrament, blessing of babies, cursing, casting out devils, endowment, raising the dead (or attempting to do so), sealing, either of people to eternal life, or of one person to another, marriage, second anointing, missionary ministry." (p. 83). Prince concludes "An honest reading of the historical record from Smith's ministry leaves open the question of women and priesthood and argues against the radical conclusion which Quinn continues to expound in unqualified terms and at great cost." (p. 83).

In other words, Quinn's "Mormon Hierarchy" is hardly the epitome of objective and impeccible research, although it is acknowledged to be one screaming text! It is time to become more balanced and realistic with Quinn instead of mythologizing him to Godhood status already in this life.

I myself, in reading him find right at the outset his rather unobjective view of referencing in his notes. In the very first footnote, he references to John Brooke's "The Refiner's Fire", yet ignores the review of it from FARMS, which does a very credible job of showing how off Brooke is, and how there is virtually no evidence from early Mormonism to support his overall thesis of a vast overall influence of Hermeticism in Joseph Smith's theology. In footnote 2 he references his own "Early Mormonism and the World Magic View" without so much as giving a hint that there have been serious problems found in the BYU Studies reviews of this work. Quinn offers no explanation, nor any type of rebuttal to any of the reviews of his work. It is as if he is unaware they even exist, which we all know better, since Quinn is almost omnivorous when it comes to Mormon history. He obviously is aware of the reviews in BYU Studies, yet ignores it all. There are at least 4 of them! In footnote 9 he references Dan Vogel's work "Religious Seekers and the Advent of Mormonism" without so much as acknowledging Grant Underwood's review of Vogel. There is no balance here nor impeccible referencing at all. In footnote 34 he references Marquardt and Walters "Inventing Mormonism" without acknowledging the FARMS review of the splendid Mormon Historian Richard Bushman. Quinn obviously leaves out what suits him, and includes anything that comes to conclusions other than what has been found. It is almost as if his agenda is to ignore anything and everyone who comes to differing conclusions than he and those he cites! This is a far cry from impeccible. Just some of my initial impressions of Quinn's supposed devastating work "The Mormon Hierarchy." It is not devastating at all, though it makes interesting reading, even though Hill thinks Quinn's prose is "stiff." (p. 80).