Why Are Jehovah’s Witnesses Being Treated Like Children?

Imagine the setting. It is January 2011. The Governing Body of Jehovah’s Witnesses are in their brightly lit meeting room adorned with imagery from Watchtower literature. The six current members of the Governing Body, dressed in suits paid for by followers’ donations, sit around a polished table, some flipping through old books and magazines they authored decades ago. The atmosphere is tense but oddly spirited.

Gerrit sighs as he slams a book onto the table. “Well, gentlemen, I think it’s safe to say: the experiment worked… just not the way we planned.”

David chuckles,  “Worked? If by ‘worked,’ you mean we turned millions into mindless parrots who can’t think beyond page seven of The Watchtower, then yes, it worked.”

Tony, leaning back with his arms crossed, says, “Look, the goal was control. Control requires complexity. We gave them a labyrinth, and they chose to wander around aimlessly. That’s on them.”

Rubbing his temples, Samuel responds, “Sure, Tony, but now we’re stuck. Have you seen the letters we get? ‘Can I eat this? Can I wear that? What is permissible in the bedroom? Do I need to show my blood card every time I visit my GP?’ They’re treating us like babysitters. It’s exhausting.”

Stephen smirks. “Maybe we overestimated their intelligence. Or underestimated how badly they’d cling to everything we wrote.”

Geoffrey nods. “Exactly. The whole point was to keep them busy, attending meetings, preaching, building, … not regressing into helpless children.”

With a sly grin, Gerrit suggests, “So why not lean into it? If they want to be children, let’s make the doctrine something even a four-year-old can follow.”

“You’re joking, right?” Samuel asks blinking.

Gerrit shrugs, “Not at all. Think about it. We simplify everything. No more convoluted prophecies, classes, types, or greater Moseses, and so on. Just… happy little stories, bright pictures, and catchy slogans.”

Thoughtfully, David suggests, “Like a children’s book series. “The Adventures of Caleb & Sophia” or something.”

Tony exclaims with a mocking tone, “Today, Little Caleb Learns Obedience!”

Stephen laughs. “Hey, it might work! Adults love being talked to like kids these days. We could make more use of video streaming. Similarly to YouTube and TV commercials!”

Geoffrey leans forward, “But how do we roll it out? Won’t they notice we’re abandoning the complexity we’ve been shoving down their throats for decades?”

Gerrit waves his hand dismissively. “Of course not. We just spin it as a divine revelation: ‘We have prayerfully considered ways to make the truth more accessible to all!’”

“And what happens to all the old books and magazines?” asks Samuel. “People will compare them to the new stuff.”

David answers. “Easy. We start revising the old works. Gradually phase them out. ‘The Light Gets Brighter,’ or whatever euphemism we’re using these days.”

Stephen asks, “And for the diehards who resist?”

Gerrit smiles coldly. “Label them as unfaithful or apostate. Say they’re stuck in the past, clinging to outdated interpretations, not keeping up with Jehovah’s Chariot. That’ll scare the rest into compliance.”

Geoffrey claps his hands. “Gentlemen, I think we have a plan. Simplify the doctrine, reframe it as progress, and weed out anyone too stubborn to follow along.”

Tony raises his glass of whiskey. “To the next chapter of our glorious faith. Let’s make it so simple even a toddler could follow it.”

“Let’s just hope our followers don’t realize we’re treating them like toddlers,” David says dryly. 

They all laugh as they begin sketching out the first draft of their new, childish doctrine.

Gerrit beams, “Who knew millions now living could be so easily manipulated?”

Stephen grins, “Who knew leading millions could be this entertaining!?”