This piece reframes a centuries-old theological dispute not as a battle over ancient artifacts, but as a masterclass in how human communities solve coordination problems through costly signaling. Scott Alexander argues that the specific mechanics of early Mormon history offer a rare, data-rich window into how faith functions as an instrumental tool for social cohesion, regardless of historical accuracy.
The Context of Discovery
Alexander begins by grounding the narrative in the chaotic cultural landscape of 19th-century America, where ancient Egypt was not just a subject of study but a commodity. He notes that after Napoleon's campaign, "Mummies were exported by the thousands into Europe and the US, making them surprisingly cheap and common." This context is crucial; it explains why Joseph Smith could acquire papyri from a traveling exhibitor in 1835 during a period when the church was doubling its membership. The author highlights the absurdity of the era's fascination, noting that wealthy hosts would throw "mummy unwrapping parties" where guests watched bandages being removed for entertainment.
The article then pivots to the translation itself. Alexander quotes Smith directly regarding his discovery: "I commenced the translation of some of the characters or hieroglyphics, and much to our joy found that one of the rolls contained the writings of Abraham." This moment is presented not just as a religious claim, but as a business opportunity seized by a young movement. The author points out that the Church pooled its limited resources to buy the entire collection from Michael Chandler, betting heavily on Smith's ability to produce scripture from the scrolls.
One day you're Ozymandias, king of kings, the next you're smeared on some guy's dick to help get him hard. What to do.
This vivid juxtaposition serves Alexander's broader point about the fragility of status and the arbitrary nature of what societies value. Critics might argue that this focus on the "deranged" aspects of Victorian Egyptomania distracts from the genuine theological convictions of early believers, yet it effectively illustrates the high-stakes environment in which these texts were produced.
The Mechanics of Faith
The commentary then shifts to a more analytical tone, examining faith not as an epistemic error but as a functional solution to social coordination. Alexander writes, "I'm interested in faith as a potential superpower... it's got something to do with changing your credence in a proposition without good epistemic reasons." He suggests that while this contradicts rationalism, it aligns perfectly with instrumental rationality—the pursuit of "The Good" through effective action.
The author draws on game theory to explain why high-demand religions thrive where low-demand ones struggle. "Everyone knows religion functions as an inter-tribal coordination mechanism," Alexander observes, explaining that shared belief systems allow strangers to cooperate in a Prisoner's Dilemma scenario. He argues that the strictures of Mormonism—no alcohol, no coffee, mandatory tithing, and two-year missions—act as costly signals that prove commitment. "You know I'm a true believer because every Sunday at noon I sacrifice a baby goat," he paraphrases the logic, noting that these expensive rituals filter out free-riders who would otherwise exploit the community's trust.
This framing is particularly compelling when applied to the historical growth of the church. Alexander notes that from six members in 1830 to millions today, the movement survived because it demanded "heavy costs" that ensured a cohesive, high-trust membership. He points out that individual Mormons consistently give more to charity and volunteer more than almost any other demographic, suggesting that the system successfully converts belief into prosocial behavior.
In theory I could just be paying the costly signals in public as a purely calculated decision because I know it will benefit me long-term. Some people are probably doing that, but in practice I would guess paying the costly signals consistently over time in a believable way is difficult without being a true believer.
The argument here rests on the difficulty of sustaining deception over decades. While Alexander acknowledges that some members may be acting strategically, he posits that the sheer volume of sacrifice required makes genuine belief the most likely engine for long-term adherence. A counterargument worth considering is whether this high-cost model is sustainable in a modern, secularized world where individuals have more exit options and less tolerance for rigid dogma.
The Epistemic Trade-off
Alexander concludes his analysis by confronting the tension between faith and evidence. He admits that "faith is the opposite of rationalism" because it involves believing something with greater conviction than the evidence warrants. Yet, he reframes this as a necessary trade-off for social stability. "Wouldn't it be nice if all humans on earth could enter into a collective brainwashing ritual where we all ended up thinking playing cooperate in the Prisoner's dilemma is the correct thing to do?" he asks rhetorically.
The author emphasizes that the Mormon experience provides "large quantities of very reliable records" precisely because the movement is so recent. Unlike ancient texts buried in translation layers, early Mormon history offers direct quotes and documented events from Joseph Smith himself. This transparency allows for a unique historical experiment: observing how a community builds itself on a narrative that modern Egyptologists have since debunked as a mistranslation of funeral texts, yet which still produces a highly functional society.
That's the story from 1827 to 2026. I skipped some details. Compared with other versions of Christianity, Mormonism has many. At least in its early history. This is not because Mormonism is historically or theologically more rich, it's because Mormonism is far more recent in history.
This observation underscores the article's central thesis: the power of a belief system may lie less in its historical truth and more in its ability to coordinate human behavior effectively. The "deranged" mummy parties and the "golden plates" are merely the vehicles; the real story is the social architecture built upon them.
Bottom Line
Scott Alexander's analysis succeeds by stripping away the supernatural claims of the Book of Abraham to reveal a robust sociological engine driving religious adherence. While it risks oversimplifying the spiritual experiences of believers into mere game theory, its strength lies in explaining why high-cost faiths persist and thrive where others fail. The reader is left with a provocative question: in an age of declining trust, is "irrational" faith actually the most rational path to social cohesion?