Why Keep Debating (Things Like the Provo Tabernacle)?

In the time since my last post and piece in the newspaper, I've had some great conversations with people both who disagree and agree with me. But one response that I've encountered repeatedly — and it's a response that really bugs me — is the one that seeks to end the conversation.

More specifically, I'm talking about people who say "whatever our feelings on the issue, the decision is made so let's move on and talk about other things." I've seen this response again and again with respect to the tabernacle/temple issue, and I've encountered it generally in discussions about a wide array of questions.

I have some basic and fundamental issues with this argument. Most basically, I enjoy debate and think it's healthy for the mind; people who can't rhetorically defend their positions should grow up and learn to assert themselves.

More generally, I also think that cutting off debate once authority figures make a decision sets a dangerous precedent. Leaders — political, religious, civic, etc. — sometimes make mistakes and confronting them with hard questions is an important check. Modern movements like the Tea Party and the Occupy Wall Street protests operate under this principle, as did most revolutionaries of the past.

But I have an even bigger problem with this argument when it comes to something like the Provo Tabernacle. To begin with, there was never a public debate about the building despite it's clear function as a public (if privately owned) resource. Even if the LDS church had a right to do with the building as they pleased, the public has the right to weigh the pros and cons of the final decision. (This was something I basically didn't see anyone do. Even if the outcome was a net gain for Provo, every decision has pros and cons. Yet as far as I'm aware, I was the only person who — in my small way — publicly expressed the possibility that turning the building into a temple would have negative repercussions as well as positive ones. I know other people had this opinion, but I didn't see it printed anywhere.)

I think it's also important to have a debate because that debate can influence future decisions. For example, years ago Provo demolished two iconic buildings — the Hotel Roberts and a local catholic church. Some people were outraged and publicly expressed that anger via debate, and I think in the time since the city has gradually become more sensitive to its historic structures.

In other words, debating past decisions influenced the future. I think that if the debate about those past buildings had been even more robust we might have had a more balanced discussion about the fate of the Provo Tabernacle, even if the outcome was the same.

In addition, one specific reason that a debate about the Tabernacle is important is because the church constantly is altering its historic structures, and may revamp the existing Provo Temple in the very near future. It is important that we, as a community, discuss now what we want to do with our architectural heritage in the future. Even if the decision about the Tabernacle is over, the decisions about the Provo temple are not. The church is unlikely to change the facade of the building if the community opposes it, for example, and the elected city officials obviously have a say in what gets approved. (I have heard from reliable sources that the church did, in fact, weigh people's reactions in its decision to turn the Tabernacle into a temple.)

In other words, if we want the LDS church to preserve history (or, I suppose, if we want the church to discard history, as I feel it often does), we need to debate that topic and formulate our opinions now. This principle holds true for most policy decisions that have public ramifications. No single event or decision is completely isolated, and an honest (and spirited) debate will only ever enrich our views, and our community.

Provo Tabernacle

Today (Wednesday) the paper ran this article, in which I argue that turning the Provo Tabernacle into an LDS temple is going to leave a (cultural or spiritual) gap in the city.

But because I want to alienate every last person I know, I thought I'd expand on that article here. Just kidding! Actually, I was limited to 325 words but I had a lot more to say.

In the time since the announcement that the destroyed Tabernacle would be converted to a temple, I've debated the pros and cons of the change numerous times with many different people. And I have to admit, I find the economic arguments in favor of a temple compelling. Many people have tried to convince me that having a temple will increase foot traffic and activity in downtown Provo, thereby bolstering business.

Downtown Provo is struggling, and I'm in favor of anything that boosts the area economically. If having an LDS temple in the area accomplishes that, I'm happy.

My only issue with this argument is that I haven't been able to come up with a single historical precedent to support it. Most LDS temples are in quiet residential areas. Those that are located in commercial areas (and a there are several) generally were built after those areas were thriving. In other words, in all the debates I've had no one has been able to think of a single instance where a temple revitalized a commercial area. Whatever goes into downtown Provo needs to be an engine for economic growth, and I'm unable to think of an example where that happened before.

But there is a first time for everything, and I'm hopeful.

At the same time, I'm still fairly saddened by the decision to change the Tabernacle into a temple. In my article in the paper, I point to post-war Europe as an example of rebuilding after tragedy. My point is that buildings don't have to be particularly old to be true to their historic nature. In other words, a historic building can be one that serves a historic function, or one that symbolizes a historic moment in a community, even if it isn't technically old any more.

I have to admit that my feelings are influenced by a growing resentment of the way I've seen historic structures treated in Utah and by my own church (LDS). In Provo, the beautiful Hotel Roberts was secretly demolished in the middle of the night. Not long after, St. Francis Church was torn down.

Similarly, the LDS Church is currently r̶u̶i̶n̶i̶n̶g̶ remodeling the Ogden Utah Temple, changing it from a relatively unique architectural gem to a bland, suburban, cookie cutter building. There are pervasive and reliable rumors that Provo's temple is next on the chopping block. (And don't get me started on the travesty that is BYU's architecture.)

The point is that there seems to be precious little regard for history in this state and church. As I mention in the newspaper, the church would certainly not have scraped the idea of a tabernacle if the one in Salt Lake had burned. But in Provo, the wishes of the church — which could have been satisfied in any number of other ways, such as building another temple and keeping the tabernacle — were put above the needs of the community.

And I'd argue that the community really does need a tabernacle. To compare Provo to Salt Lake again, imagine if the only buildings on Temple Square were closed to the public. Imagine if there were two temples, or the current tabernacle just let in Mormons. How much of a draw would Temple Square be? Certainly less of one than it currently is.

The point is that a community benefits from a gathering place, especially one that is tied to the community's history but open to everyone. Americans love to visit European cities for precisely that reason. Interestingly, urban planning has increasingly validated the ideas put into place by Utah's early settlers: a logical street grid, trees, walkability, etc. (Visit The Atlantic Cities to generally read more about these ideas).

The Tabernacle was part of that vision. It was a centrally located gathering point, and it encapsulated the values on which the community was built. And as it gets brushed aside for something new, I can't help but wonder if the cohesion, vibrancy, and diversity of the community will go with it.