Why are Mormons so Libertarian?
Connor Hansen has a very good essay on Why Are Latter-day Saints So Libertarian? It serves both as an introduction to LDS theology and as an explanation for why that theology resonates with classical liberal ideas. I’ll summarize, with the caveat that I may get a few theological details wrong.
LDS metaphysics posits a universe governed by eternal law. God works with and within the laws of the universe–the same laws that humans can discover with reason and science.
This puts Latter-day Saint cosmology in conversation with the Enlightenment conviction that nature operates predictably and can be studied systematically. A theology where God organizes matter according to eternal law opens space for both scientific inquiry and mystical experience—the careful observation of natural law and the direct encounter with divine love operating through that law.
LDS epistemology is strikingly pro-reason. Even Ayn Rand would approve:
Latter-day Saint theology holds that human beings possess eternal “intelligence”—a term meaning something like personhood, consciousness, or rational capacity—that exists independent of creation. This intelligence is inherent, not granted, and it survives death.
Paired with this is the doctrine of agency: humans are genuinely free moral agents, not puppets or broken remnants after a fall. We’re capable of reason, judgment, and meaningful choice.
This creates an unusually optimistic anthropology. Human reason isn’t fundamentally corrupted or unreliable. It’s a divine gift and a core feature of identity. That lines up neatly with the Enlightenment belief that people can use reason to understand the world, improve their lives, and govern themselves effectively.
In ethics, agency is arguably the most libertarian strand in LDS theology. Free to choose is literally at the center of both divine nature and moral responsibility.
According to Latter-day Saint belief, God proposed a plan for human existence in which individuals would receive genuine agency—the ability to choose, make mistakes, learn, change, and ultimately progress toward becoming like God.
One figure, identified as Satan, rejected that plan and proposed an alternative: eliminate agency, guarantee universal salvation through compulsion, and claim God’s glory in the process.
The disagreement escalated into conflict. In Latter-day Saint scripture, Satan and those who followed him were cast out. The ones who chose agency—who chose freedom with its attendant risks—became mortal humans.
This matters politically because it means that in Latter-day Saint theology, coercion is not merely misguided policy or poor governance. It is literally Satanic. The negation of agency, forced conformity, compulsory salvation—these align with the devil’s rebellion against God’s plan.
Now add to this a 19th century belief in progress and abundance amped up by theology:
Humanity isn’t hopelessly corrupt. Instead, individuals are expected to learn, improve, innovate, and help build better societies.
But here’s where it gets radical: Latter-day Saints believe in the doctrine of eternal progression—the teaching that human beings can, over infinite time and through divine grace, become as God is. Not metaphorically. Actually.
If you believe humans possess infinite potential to rise, become, and progress eternally—literally without bound—then political systems that constrain, manage, or limit human aspiration start to feel spiritually suspect.
Finally, the actually history of the LDS church–expulsions from Missouri and Illinois, Joseph Smith’s violent death, the migration to the Great Basin, the creation of a quasi-independent society–is one of resistance to centralized government power. Limited government and local autonomy come to feel like lessons learned through lived experience. Likewise, the modern LDS welfare system is a working demonstration of how voluntary, covenant-based mutual aid can deliver real social support without coercion. This real-world model strengthens the intuition that social goods need not rely on compulsory state systems, and that voluntary institutions can often be more humane and effective.
To which I say, amen brother! Read the whole essay for more.
See also the book, , with an introduction by the excellent Mark Skousen.
Hat tip: Gale.