Why Facts Don’t Change Minds
Imagine standing in a canyon, shouting the truth at someone perched high above, only to hear your words echo back without any sign they’ve been heard. This can be what it feels like to present factual evidence about a religion, like Mormonism, to someone fully embedded in its teachings, and find them unmoved. For those grappling with a faith crisis, this dynamic can feel deeply frustrating, even isolating. Why is it that facts—plain, unambiguous, and well-documented—often fail to change minds?
It turns out, the reasons lie not in the facts themselves but in the intricate web of human psychology, social belonging, and identity.
Why the Mind Resists Change
To understand this, we need to delve into the paradox of human cognition: while our brains are designed to help us navigate reality, they are also wired to protect us from existential threats—including the psychological kind.
Leo Tolstoy once observed, “The simplest thing cannot be made clear to the most intelligent man if he is firmly persuaded that he knows already.” Essentially, their existing beliefs can block out new information, no matter how clear it is presented. Why? Because changing one’s mind often means risking everything that anchors us: our relationships, identity, and sense of purpose.
For a devout Mormon, these risks loom large. Mormonism isn’t just a belief system; it’s a tightly woven tapestry of community, purpose, and worldview. It dictates who you marry, how you spend your time, and what you hope for in eternity. It offered a grand narrative in which you played a pivotal role; infusing your life with significance and value. Confronting evidence that challenges its foundations can feel like pulling a thread that might unravel everything.
Belonging Trumps Truth
Humans are social creatures. For most of our history, survival depended on belonging to a group. In the modern world, this need for connection manifests in our desire to align with those we love and trust as well as our increased willingness to trust those that share our views. As psychologist Steven Pinker puts it, “People are embraced or condemned according to their beliefs, so one function of the mind may be to hold beliefs that bring the belief-holder the greatest number of allies, protectors, or disciples, rather than beliefs that are most likely to be true.”
This tribal instinct means that people often prioritize social harmony over factual accuracy. A Mormon may resist acknowledging facts that threaten their faith because doing so risks alienation from their tribe—their family, friends, and community.
When someone faces the choice between embracing truth and preserving their relationships, the emotional weight of isolation often tips the scales. This calculation is likely not even conscious.
Why Sharing Facts Often Backfires
Presenting factual evidence—no matter how compelling—can feel like an attack on a person’s identity. Mormonism isn’t merely a set of beliefs; it’s often deeply intertwined with who someone is. For believers, the religion provides the context that defines how to interact with the world. It defines what is right and wrong, what makes a good person, and how they fit in to everything. Without that framework, they feel lost.
When faced with information that contradicts their faith, a person may experience what psychologists call cognitive dissonance—the mental discomfort of holding two conflicting ideas. To resolve this discomfort, the mind doesn’t always choose truth. Instead, it often doubles down on existing beliefs, reinforcing them as a defensive mechanism.
Cognitive dissonance occurs when a person encounters information that contradicts their deeply held beliefs, creating an internal conflict. Because humans have a natural desire for consistency, this conflict can feel deeply unsettling—a threat to their sense of self.
For a believing Mormon, cognitive dissonance can manifest in several ways when they are presented with challenging evidence about the Church. Instead of prompting a reevaluation of their beliefs, they may:
- Dismiss the evidence. Evidence that doesn’t fit their narrative can be ignored without scrutiny simply because it doesn’t fit the narrative. They may argue that the information is misleading, untrue, or the person presenting it is misinformed or motivated to distort the reality. But it comes down to “I believe this, therefore, what you tell me MUST be wrong. Somehow. And I don’t need to waste my time figuring out how.”
- Reinterpret the evidence to fit within their existing framework. They will likely stop at the first easy answer without considering the broader implications. For example, if they learn about historical issues in Mormonism, they may rationalize that prophets are fallible and that God still works through imperfect leaders. It is unlikely that admitting to the failures of leaders will cause them to question their obedience to current leadership.
- Strengthen their faith as a defense mechanism. Rather than questioning their beliefs, they might double down, bearing testimony more fervently, increasing their scripture study, or seeking reassurance from trusted leaders.
- Avoid engaging with the information entirely because processing it feels too painful or overwhelming. This might look like shutting down conversations, refusing to read certain materials, or labeling doubts as a test of faith.
This internal resistance isn’t a sign of ignorance or stubbornness—it’s a psychological survival instinct. When a person’s entire world is built upon their faith, dismantling that foundation feels dangerous. Understanding this can help those on the outside approach conversations with more patience and compassion.
The Role of Relationship in Changing Minds
While facts alone may not change minds, relationships can.
James Clear writes, “Convincing someone to change their mind is really the process of convincing them to change their tribe.” If someone leaves Mormonism, they don’t just lose their beliefs—they risk losing their support system. To let go of old ideas, they often need a new community to step into, one that offers understanding, connection, and belonging.
If truth matters to you, the key isn’t to batter someone with facts but to extend a hand of friendship. Invite them into a space where they feel safe to question and explore without fear of rejection.
At its core, changing someone’s mind often isn’t about crafting the perfect argument—it’s about maintaining real relationships, which allows the other person to feel safe asking themselves questions. People are far more likely to reconsider their beliefs when they feel safe, respected, and valued. This means prioritizing human connection over the desire to be “right.”
When engaging with someone still in the faith, consider the following:
- Respect their autonomy. Everyone has the right to believe what they want. Your goal isn’t to force a shift in perspective but to create a space where they feel comfortable exploring different ideas.
- Avoid making the conversation about winning. If a person feels backed into a corner, they’re more likely to dig in their heels. Instead of debating, focus on listening and asking thoughtful questions that encourage self-reflection.
- Keep the relationship intact. You don’t have to agree with someone to love and support them. Approach discussions with the same kindness and respect you’d hope for if the roles were reversed. In return, ask for kindness and respect back. If you never receive kindness and respect in return, you might consider shifting or letting go of this relationship.
This isn’t about manipulating people into leaving their faith—it’s about treating them with dignity and allowing them to arrive at their own conclusions in their own time. Your relationship with them should not be conditional on whether they come to see things the way you do.
Practical Steps for Bridging the Divide
- Build Trust: Rather than diving into debates about church history or doctrine, focus on building trust. Be the person you’d want to have in your corner. Relationships matter. You can let others know you are a safe space. Share meals, have light-hearted conversations, and show genuine care.
- Don’t Bulldoze: Radical shifts in belief rarely happen overnight. You don’t have to make Mormonism the central topic of discussion. Talk about something else, like their interests. If the conversation goes toward religion, you can always introduce small ideas that gently challenge their thinking.
- Speak to Shared Values: Find common ground. For example, if someone values family, frame your insights in ways that show how your journey has strengthened—not weakened—your relationships.
- Offer Resources, Not Ultimatums: Instead of arguing, you can always recommend books, podcasts, or articles that they can explore privately. Books, in particular, allow people to wrestle with new ideas in a non-threatening way.
- Create Community: If someone leaves Mormonism, help them find a new tribe. Whether it’s a book club, a hiking group, or an online community, connection can be a lifeline during this transition.
The Power of Compassion
Haruki Murakami said it best: “To argue, and win, is to break down the reality of the person you are arguing against. It is painful to lose your reality, so be kind, even if you are right.”
For those navigating a Mormon faith crisis, kindness is a bridge. It reminds us that while beliefs may divide us, our shared humanity can bring us back together. Facts may not change minds, but love and understanding can.
So, the next time you feel the urge to confront someone with evidence, pause. Instead of delivering a lecture, offer a listening ear. Instead of tearing down their beliefs, invite them to share a meal. In the quiet moments of connection, hearts—and eventually minds—begin to change.
Facts alone rarely change minds, but relationships, trust, and compassion can open doors that logic alone cannot. When engaging with someone still in the faith, remember that their resistance isn’t necessarily about stubbornness or ignorance—it’s about self-preservation. Their beliefs are woven into their identity, relationships, and sense of purpose.
Instead of trying to tear down their world with evidence, focus on building bridges. Offer a safe space for honest conversation. Be patient. Stay kind. Let them know they are valued regardless of what they believe.
In the end, the most powerful influence isn’t a perfectly worded argument—it’s the quiet reassurance that, no matter what, they are not alone.
