An Infinite Line

Attempts to understand and live morally often lead to what might be called frameworking—organized ways of thinking about morality that try to explain what is right or wrong and why. These frameworks can look like theories, ideologies, checklists, or models for behavior. While such frameworks can help organize behavior or diagnose harmful lifestyle patterns, this paper argues that moral truth does not depend on a pre-existing structure. Rather, we have an inherent capacity to recognize moral truth in any context. The tendency to adhere to framework morality often leads people away from truth and reality rather than toward them.

Truth, reality, and morality are inherently understood by individuals because we possess conscience and because of divine influence (see, e.g., Doctrine and Covenants [D&C] 84:46; Romans 2:14–15). Doctrine and Covenants 93:24 defines truth as “knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come.” Truth, then, can be imagined as an infinite line—like a timeline stretching endlessly in both directions: eternal, objective, whole, and integrated. Human attempts to segment this line—creating relative truths isolated from the broader eternal context and treating them as standalone—risk obscuring  divine origin, eternal scope and universal applicability of moral truth. When we treat moral truth as a local phenomenon rather than an unbroken line, we not only misunderstand morality but risk moral presentism: assuming that truth can be confined to our immediate context. Because we cannot see the whole line ourselves, we must rely on God, who sees it all, and on prophets who speak with that eternal perspective.

Psychology and philosophy often contribute to our desire to “plot” morality—offering theories, heuristics, and models that promise to trace out the shape of the moral line. These approaches are not inherently wrong. They can help people become more self-aware and grow. But they risk portraying morality as something buried within the self—a kind of hidden segment that must be discovered and interpreted. If this premise were true, it would imply that morality does not exist until it is known, which is both logically and spiritually false. In this view, morality becomes less like an already existing, ever-constant reality to be recognized and more like a riddle to decode. The emphasis shifts from obedience to analysis, from clarity to complexity.

People are drawn to frameworks because they offer the illusion of clarity and control in a morally complex world (see, e.g., Haidt, 2012; Peterson, 1999). When moral truth is seen as vast, eternal, and beyond full human comprehension, it can feel overwhelming or inaccessible. Frameworks offer what seems like a manageable substitute: a structured diagram, a step-by-step outline, a predefined path. These provide comfort, especially in a culture overwhelmed by relativism, distraction, and confusion (see, e.g., Nelson, 2020). We crave orientation. But when simplified frameworks replace conscience, humility, and revelation, they tend to break the moral line—meaning the eternal reality of right and wrong—into superficial segments, doing more to obscure than to guide. Rather than cultivating moral sensitivity, they can blunt it, substituting diagram for discernment. Even sincere seekers of truth may unintentionally hide within systems that simulate moral clarity without yielding its substance.

One reason frameworks are so appealing is that they treat morality like a solvable equation—something we can “solve” by applying the right methods. In a performance-driven society, we gravitate toward this model. Frameworks promise progress and optimization. But true moral clarity does not come from mastering the geometry of ethics—it comes from aligning ourselves with the divine reality of truth, which requires humility, faith, and the companionship of the Spirit (see, e.g., 2 Nephi 32:5; Bednar, 2006). Frameworks comfort us because they allow for intellectual maneuvering in place of spiritual surrender. It is far easier to map what we want morality to be than to walk in obedience.

Doctrine and Covenants 93:24 is pivotal: moral truth is not circumstantial or evolving—it is eternal. When we treat truth as a ray (starting from a fixed point and projecting outward) or as a segment (limited to a moment in time), we distort its nature. A ray says, “Truth began when I discovered it.” A segment says, “This truth applied then, but not now.” Both metaphors stem from human attempts to contain truth within the boundaries of personal experience or cultural trends. But this is rationalization, not revelation. Eternal truth is a line without beginning or end. We live rightly not by constructing our own paths but by seeking alignment with the One who sees the full line, who comprehends all things.

The danger of frameworking becomes most visible when divine command seems to conflict with human moral intuition. Abraham’s near-sacrifice of Isaac would be condemned by nearly every moral framework, yet it was an act of supreme obedience. Nephi’s slaying of Laban confronts our sense of justice, yet was commanded for the preservation of a people. Even Joseph Smith’s institution of polygamy, morally jarring by today’s standards, was revealed by God for a specific purpose. If morality were merely a system to be reasoned through or derived from cultural consensus, these acts would appear irredeemable. But if morality is grounded in God’s eternal line of truth, then these moments are not contradictions but revelations—exposing the limitations of our view and the supremacy of divine perspective.

Because we cannot see the whole line, we need prophets—not as moral engineers or theorists, but as seers and inspired historians who guide by revelation. Their role is not to invent frameworks or moral systems, but to orient us within the eternal moral line. They speak from the present but see the past and future by divine light (see, e.g., Maxwell, 1970). Prophets help us locate ourselves in relation to truth, not by building new diagrams but by helping us recognize what is already written across eternity.

Moral frameworks can be helpful tools, but they are not truth itself. They are like snapshots of the line—not the line itself. The danger comes when we mistake the segment for the whole, the model for the message. Moral truth is eternal, recognizable, and rooted in God. Attempts to systematize it—whether through psychology, philosophy, or culture—risk obscuring its simplicity and power. We do not need more diagrams; we need clearer vision. We must yield to the Spirit, walk with the Lord, and trust in those He calls to help us see the full line. The solution to moral confusion is not a better framework—it is deeper faith.

References

Bednar, D. A. (2006, May). Quick to observe. Ensign. 

Haidt, J. (2012). The righteous mind: Why good people are divided by politics and religion. Pantheon Books.

Maxwell, N. A. (1970, November). For the power is in them. Ensign. 

Nelson, R. M. (2020, November). Let God prevail. Liahona. 

Peterson, J. B. (1999). Maps of meaning: The architecture of belief. Routledge.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. (2013). The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ. Intellectual Reserve, Inc.

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. (2013). Doctrine and Covenants. Intellectual Reserve, Inc.

The Holy Bible: King James Version. (2013). Romans. Intellectual Reserve, Inc.