In Utah, religion is always on our minds, lurking at the very least in the far reaches of our subconscious — where our brains are not necessarily mulling over the finer points of theology but might be wondering what church the other guy belongs to.

No wonder, then, that at some level the political campaign season is often about not just Republicans and Democrats, conservatives and liberals, red, blue and green, but the religious persuasion of the candidates.

Not that we would always admit it. In Utah, both despite and because of the fact that it's the home of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, a candidate's religion is often an awkward piece of information, transmitted sometimes in code.

To understand Utah better, it's instructive to look at a place like South Carolina, where religion is just as central to the fabric of community life but is a more conspicuous player in political campaigns.

In South Carolina, says professor Laura Olson of Clemson University, it's hard to get on the ballot as a Republican if you aren't tight with the state party leaders, and you can't be accepted by them "unless you have some sort of religion on your sleeve." And voters, too, care about the religion of the candidates, she says.

It's not that you have to be an evangelical Christian, "but it sure helps," says Olson, who teaches a class on politics and religion. "You can be an Episcopalian and win, sure. But if you're up and coming and you want to be noticed by the party, it's nothing but a benefit to be an evangelical Protestant."

As a candidate, she says, if you want to let voters know that's your religious persuasion, one quick way is to talk about your conversion experience.

In Utah, though, "you don't see the blatant use of religion in political campaigns," says Kirk Jowers, director of the University of Utah's Hinckley Institute of Politics. "It's much more subtle."

So a candidate might mention that he lived in a foreign country for exactly three years, Jowers says, with three years being the duration of an LDS mission presidency for married couples. Or a candidate might say he did "two years of service for my church," the amount of time a young man spends on an LDS mission.

The subtlety comes from a feeling that there is a "proper etiquette" in Utah, at least for statewide or congressional offices, when it comes to announcing one's religion, he says. "The vast majority of LDS voters would think it's inappropriate; it might be seen as a crass use of service to their church." And, too, "they've been sensitized by non-members' (of the LDS Church) feelings that the church is running things, whether overtly or not. So anything that reinforces that, especially in an in-your-face way, makes a lot of members nervous."