Poll's biography of Henry Dinwoody Moyle (1889-1963) is not a simple listing of chronological events. Moyle was too diversified in his experiences for that kind of treatment. Instead, Poll divided the book into sixteen broad subject chapters . . . : The Pioneer Moyles; Son and Brother; Missionary; Student, Lawyer, Soldier; Alberta and Henry; Parents and Children; Lawyer and Lecturer; Stake President; Welfare Worker; Oil Entrepreneur; Democratic Politician; Ranch Developer; Missionary Apostle; Man of Action; Family and Friends; and Counselor in the First Presidency.

Poll decided to write a fluent narrative, devoid of extensive documentation. However, he included a short bibliographical essay at the end in which he discussed the manuscript, printed, and oral history sources he used.

Henry Moyle married Alberta Wright; they were the parents of four daughters and two sons. Moyle was a caring and involved husband, father, grandfather, brother, and son. As president of the Cottonwood Stake (1927-37), chair of the General Church Welfare Committee (1938-63), and counselor in the First Presidency (1959-63), Moyle articulated and pushed some of the most significant changes in the twentieth-century church. Moyle, Harold B. Lee, and Marion G. Romney, with the approval of J. Reuben Clark, then a counselor in Heber J. Grant's First Presidency, designed the Church Welfare Program. Aided by Gordon B. Hinckley, Alvin R. Dyer, Marion G. Romney, and Marion D. Hanks, Moyle designed the modern-day missionary program. With the help of Wendell Mendenhall and the powerful Church Building Committee, Moyle oversaw the acquisition of much real estate and the construction of many buildings, a process that continues to this day. He worked with Ernest L. Wilkinson to shape the Church Educational System (CES), the Missionary Training Center (MTC), and student stakes. The twenty-six-story Church Office Building on North Temple Street and the Church's Finance Department with its extensive investment program are Moyle's brain children (88, 91, 197, 212, 224).

These important programs and department innovations paved the way for the Church's tremendous growth from the mid-1960's on. Many Mormons accept them as part of our organizational architecture, yet the pace Moyle set is as stunning as the permanence of his programs. Ordained an apostle in 1947, he was a counselor in the First Presidency twelve years later. He initiated many of these fundamental changes before his death only four years later.

Yet when he died on 18 September 1963, it was as a broken and diminished man. He told one close associate in early 1963, "I have been relieved of every responsibility except my title" (216), and to another he complained that he couldn't even get an appointment with President McKay. David O. McKay, the president who called him into the First Presidency, passed the missionary program on to Joseph Fielding Smith, Harold B. Lee, and Lee's Correlation Committee, while N. Eldon Tanner got the responsibility for handling the Church's money. What happened?

First, Moyle violated some of the cultural parameters within which one can exercise initiative and not be guilty of "inappropriate" behavior. Most men learn these rules, norms, values, and taboos—the collection of cultural wisdom that President Boyd K. Packer called the "unwritten rules"—by observation and experience, from their missions on. While some are spelled out in LDS scripture (D&C 107, 121) and the Church Handbook of Instructions, most limits on authority are informal. Proper protocol and deference to authority are more normative than prescriptive, for example.

Moyle in 1956 was only a junior member of the Twelve but chaired the powerful Welfare Committee; in that position, he angered some of the senior apostles. A report commissioned by the First Presidency cautioned, "There is too much of a feeling among the general authorities that only President Clark and Elders Moyle, Lee and Romney are the welfare Program leaders" (94). Poll documents the "gradual disenchantment" of other apostles when Moyle "began exercising de facto leadership with the tacit support of President McKay and Clark." His personality, says Poll, made him "restless with time spent in inconclusive committee deliberations and with rules that got in the way of action." He used his position—to which, Poll stresses, he had been properly called and sustained—to "mov[e] dramatically forward" in ways that other apostles saw as evidence that Moyle "was not impervious to the occupational hazard of prophets—confidence that he knew what was best for the church and the world" (212).

A second reason for Moyle's removal from power centered on authority. As sociologist Max Weber pointed out in about 1913, in a formal hierarchical organization such as the LDS church, it is imperative to have legitimate authority. Such legitimacy comes from (1) the emotional attachment or personal loyalty of others, (2) having conferred upon one the office's formal powers, (3) the concept that obedience to the office holder is a religious duty, and (4) a tradition of accepting the authority of a person in their position.1 Although all of these dynamics are at play in the LDS hierarchy, apparently Moyle lacked full legitimacy as he exercised the powers of his office. Moyle, though an apostle, was not sufficiently deferential to the senior apostle and sometimes misused McKay's tacit approbation to get things done (214-15). Counselors in the First Presidency, as many before and after Moyle have learned, do not have the president's legitimacy. When McKay became ill, power shifted back to the Twelve who, in turn, influenced McKay to put the missionary program under the direction of the Twelve and Correlation. According to Poll, however, McKay, on his own, came to see Moyle as a "loose cannon" who was using his authority illegitimately (212).

A third reason for Moyle's fall from power was a dramatic personality mismatch: he was an entrepreneur in a bureaucracy. Weber's classic description of a bureaucracy fits all religious organizations well, including the LDS Church. Action is based on formal rules, strong norms, legitimate authority, and seniority. Changes are incremental and come slowly. Coordination and control are important. Power is collective, checked, and balanced.

Organizational behavioralists have identified some of the behavioral and psychological differences between bureaucrats and entrepreneurs according to their motives (what people really enjoy doing at work), and values (what they prize most highly). Bureaucrats like ongoing tasks, collective action, achieving short-term objectives, planning/coordinating systems, rules, stability, and rewards based on following procedures. In contrast, entrepreneurs are motivated by excitement, challenge, creativity, and unconventional approaches. They thrive on autonomy, focus on the big picture and achieving long-term objectives, prefer new start-ups to tending established projects, and like rewards based on results.

When it comes to values, bureaucrats rank highest a sense of belonging, loyalty, respect/appreciation, stability, job security/ longevity, following the rules, hard work (long hours), and teamwork while entrepreneurs prize work that gives them autonomy, projects that they can "win" at, exercising control through personal leadership/ownership rather than rules, and taking calculated risks. They also work hard but it is results oriented ("smart" work) rather than long work.

Predictably, these two work styles also show a different profile of talents. Bureaucrats are tenacious, work effectively within the system, know the organization's history, are good at maintaining pleasant interpersonal relations, and amass impressive databanks specific to the organization. In contrast, entrepreneurs are innovative and visionary individuals who push changes, like making things happen, and enjoy championing pet causes. Both profiles have obvious advantages, but both also have a downside. Bureaucrats may move too slowly, focus excessively on protocol and procedures rather than results, engage in too little feedback, try to please their superiors more than thinking analytically about the needs of the organization, and often feel threatened by change. In contrast, entrepreneurs move too fast, concentrate power in the hands of few rather than spreading it throughout the system, seem (and sometimes are) uncontrolled, and consequently may cause spectacular failures, upset the established power structure, breed conflict, and hurt individuals.2

General Authorities are called to their positions, often at significant career and financial sacrifices, from all walks of life. They have diverse personalities, cultural backgrounds, education, training, and work experiences. It would be inaccurate to label them "bureaucrats," especially given the pejorative meaning of the term in today's fast-moving entrepreneurial business organizations. But in the first half of the twentieth century, a bureaucrat or "functionary" was the highest-order civil servant who, in the Japanese sense, was the best educated, the brightest, and the noblest—putting the interests of the organization above self-interests. Those attracted to full-time employment with the LDS Church or who rise carefully through the ranks may have more bureaucratic characteristics. The way the Church works is a comfortable setting for them. In contrast, someone who thrives in a small, fast-paced, high-risk organization would probably chafe in the setting of Church headquarters.

Poll's biography, though not using this organizational behavioral framework, strikingly documents how much Moyle differed from the dominant leadership style, psychological profile, and modus operandi of his church colleagues. Using the terms in their Weberian descriptive sense, without attached value judgements, I would say that Poll has presented a picture of a classic entrepreneur trying to work in a classic bureaucracy.

For example, Poll shows that Moyle had a passion for adventure and excitement, whether at work or play (162-63). He was known in business and legal circles as a "wildcatter" (risk-taker) with a win-at-all-costs personality (97, 104, 165-67). Money was a success symbol, a way of keeping score, but had little intrinsic value (97, 165), an attitude that allowed him to be incredibly generous and a bit careless with the purse strings. Poll says that President Clark was perturbed by the new directions of Church spending and investment (212).3 In his legal, business, and church work, Moyle was innovative, a bit of a maverick (67, 74, 91). As the discussion of these two profiles shows, this personality was both a strength and a weakness. Moyle had vision and could usually see how to make things happen in ways that others could not.

As a Latter-day Saint and as a practical businessman, Moyle submitted to authority (79-103,148,200). But as an administrator he trusted few, moved fast, maintained tight control over all of the major projects in which he was involved, believed that the end usually justified the means, felt free to use unconventional methods, and had too little regard for the feelings of others. In fact, while he could at times be loving, caring, tender, and generous, he often distrusted and even disdained bureaucrats, traditionalists, incompetents, zealots, and intellectuals—in brief, any who got in his way (76, 90-91, 94, 103-4, 106, 133, 147, 169, 191, 197).

Poll's honest record and thoughtful analysis of these traits make for fascinating reading of an impressive individual who was markedly out-of-synchronization with many in the LDS Church hierarchy. Some might say that in this case the bureaucrats won. The story from a sociological/political/organizational perspective is about culture, acculturation, innovation, change agentry, and conflict. Because of Moyle, the renewed emphasis on leadership, socialization, and control make it difficult to see how another Moyle could rise to power. The First Presidency counselors since his time who have also accomplished much—such as N. EldonTanner and Gordon B. Hinckley—have done so while conforming scrupulously to the church's organizational culture. Yet sociology and organizational behavior never have the last word in a religion whose members believe that God can and does intervene in history, and that He may be doing it through them, as Moyle believed. Was Henry D. Moyle God's change agent in the mid-twentieth century?

Poll, as a historian, does not attempt to answer this question. But he invites the reader to consider it. Although Moyle was not, in some respects, a sympathetic person, Poll's portrait is sympathetic of his situation and respectful, even amazed, by Moyle's meteoric achievements and general goodness:

Moyle had more impact upon the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the current century than any other man who did not hold the office of president. Certainly he belongs to that small group of counselors in the First Presidency who have been responsible for important change. What has transpired in the church in the years since his death suggests that President Moyle may sometimes have pushed too aggressively, but he pushed mainly in the right direction (224).

Utah Historical Quarterly, Richard Neitzel Holzapfel
Richard D. Poll believed that the task of "any honest biographer" centered around three critical questions: (1) What did the subject do? (2) Why did the subject do it? and (3) What shall I write? (226). Although the second question is "the biographer's greatest challenge," the third question, according to Poll, is fundamental. He stated that his guiding principle in telling a story has always been to tell the "truth, nothing but the truth, but not necessarily the whole truth" (229), thereby "avoiding the extremes of muckraking and idealization" (230).

Poll's biography of Henry Dinwoody Moyle (1889-1963), written in the early 1980s, remained unpublished for more than a decade. Following Poll's death in 1994, his papers, including the biography of Moyle, were donated to the J. Willard Marriott Library at the University of Utah. Stan Larson, a University of Utah curator, prepared Poll's final version of the biography, dated 1983, for publication in this volume. Larson added supplemental material to the biography, including David O. McKay's funeral tribute to Moyle; Ned Winder's recollection of Moyle's last hours; a review of Poll's life and contributions to Mormon history and culture; and an essay entitled "Problems of Writing Mormon Biography" presented by Poll in 1992. This essay discusses the broad issues involved in LDS biographical writing, including those noted above. Fortuitously, the essay also highlights the challenges and concerns Poll encountered as he prepared the biography on Moyle and is a significant and relevant addition to the volume.

The heart of the book remains the biography—divided into sixteen chapters that provide a lively account of Moyle's ancestry and first years (childhood, early missionary labors, educational endeavors, and military service); early married life (family, law practice, and church service as stake president); middle age (welfare work, politics, ranching, and business entrepreneurship); and the final decades (work as a missionary apostle and counselor in the LDS church First Presidency). In these chapters Poll successfully answers in detail the first question noted above: "What did the subject do?"

The single most important contribution of the book is Poll's efforts to take Moyle's religious commitment seriously. As a result, the biography is packed with insights that are often obscured or completely missing in this type of scholarly work. He shows, for example, how Moyle's "patriarchal blessings," given when he was young, motivated him with a sense of "obligation and destiny" (22). This is one of many attempts by Poll to answer the second question above: "Why did the subject do it?"

Another important contribution of the book is the sweeping and comprehensive overview of Moyle's administrative experience throughout his adult life in a variety of settings. Though a tough lawyer, businessman, and churchman, Moyle was concerned about preserving "human dignity" (78). Here, Poll demonstrates his finesse in answering question three: "What shall I write?" He moves beyond a stereotype, thus revealing the complexity of human thought, motives, and activity.

Poll believed that biographical and autobiographical efforts should provide "a fair representation" of the person (230). Instead of focusing on individual human foibles or particular incidents in the life of Moyle as the only lenses by which his subject could be understood, Poll grasps the larger story, making it possible for him to observe that Moyle's "demeanor became more friendly and he seemed to be happier" after he was called to a high church office in 1947 (146). Some may feel that Poll did not adequately answer his own questions, especially in his choice of the stories and incidents to include or not include in this volume. Nevertheless, most will agree that he has convincingly demonstrated that Moyle—engineer, lawyer, teacher, businessman, politician, churchman, apostle, and member of the First Presidency—was a man who "never put his hand to any task but what it moved" (xx).

Journal of the West, Dan Erickson
Poll's biography of Henry D. Moyle demonstrates the importance of personality in shaping and directing policy within the highest echelons of the Mormon church. Moyle's ability to clearly assess problems and prepare solutions, coupled with the strength of his personality, his abilities, and his tenacity, led to his successful rise within the legal profession and within the church. Moyle "concentrated on making the church an effective force for good in the lives of its members" and as stake president organized relief efforts for church members during the depression years (p. 162). Later, as a member of the church's First Presidency, his sense of urgency regarding missionary work and chapel building spurred a period of spectacular expansion but also led the church into a deficit spending mode. Poll concludes that the church's growth suggests that while Moyle may "have pushed too aggressively, ... he pushed mainly in the right direction (p. 224).