Mirror of Justice

A blog dedicated to the development of Catholic legal theory.
Affiliated with the Program on Church, State & Society at Notre Dame Law School.

Tuesday, April 11, 2006

"Prudential Judgment" Conference Report, I

The conference on "Prudential Judgment, Public Policy, and the Catholic Social Tradition," put on by the Murphy Institute at St. Thomas, was held this weekend.  If I do say so myself, it was a very interesting conference, and I hope a precedent for further systematic reflection on the matter of prudential judgments vs. fundamental principles, and the associated question of lay vs. magisterial primacy in addressing any given issue. 

I'll do two or three posts about different aspects of the conference.  The first day featured, among other things, two pretty much polar-opposite papers concerning the scope of the category of judgments that ought to be called prudential and left primarily to the laity and to political leaders rather than to bishops.  In his keynote address, Chris Wolfe (Political Science, Marquette) emphasized that although the magisterium has power to make particular political judgments, it should exercise caution and do so only sparingly.  Chris argued that because (among other things) policy issues are factually complex, the bishops have limited competence in many areas, and the laity should be energized (through taking responsibility in their fields of expertise) rather than enervated, the bishops should usually place much more emphasis on forming the laity spiritually and morally than on taking policy positions.  On a later plenary panel, Michael Baxter (Theology, Notre Dame) gave a paper called "The Trouble With Prudence":  the trouble, in his view, is that treating issues as "prudential" easily degenerates into a device for setting some moral problems aside (whether abortion or unjust war) in order to achieve one's overall preferred moral-policy goals (whether left or right).  He called on Catholics to be plain speaking in naming evil, to be more disciplined in avoiding cooperation with evil, and to renounce political utopianism that leads one to justify evil in the name of promoting an ideal such as democracy or freedom.

Just a couple of my own reactions on these points.  First, I appreciated Michael's warnings about the dangers of the category of prudential judgments degenerating into crude "end justifies means" analyses.  At the same time, however, there are plainly powerful arguments for making a choice for one imperfect political alternative over another, at least when the only other option seems to be a practical inability to promote justice in the political sphere at all (in anything other than the very long run).  This raises long-running issues in Christian ethics about "realism" vs. "faithfulness," whether Christians should "take responsibility" in the political sphere, and what precisely "taking responsibility" means.  But wherever one stands on that debate (my own view is pretty significantly "realist"), I don't think that urging Christians to renounce political utopianism gets one very far in resolving these questions.  One plainly can support one political party or the other without buying into a utopian view of what that party offers.  Indeed, a Christian can be driven to choose one political alignment over another not because it offers a utopia, but because there are no utopias in this fallen world and we are called to achieve what justice we can.

On the other hand, the embrace of a broad category of prudential questions by a number of conservatives could lead, I think, to a kind of "blowback" effect on issues like same-sex marriage or abortion.  For example, surely there are some complex factual questions involved in assessing whether recognizing same-sex marriage will harm traditional marriage or possibly even bolster it (at least when, as Jonathan Rauch has argued, a likely long-run alternative seems to be a broad embrace of non-marital civil unions that may undercut marriage more).  If we treat the category of prudential judgments seriously and broadly, why wouldn't the marriage issue also be significantly prudential in nature and thus appropriate for lay leadership based on the laity's greater expertise?

Consider also that among the conservative arguments for calling a lot of issues prudential -- and thus leaving them to the politicians and policymakers -- is that when the bishops pronounce on too many specific policy questions, they lose their credibility to speak on the foundational ones like abortion.  This assessment may well be true, but it seems itself to be prudential in nature, and surely arguments can be made the other way.  The willingness of the bishops to speak boldly on other issues of life and dignity, from the death penalty to immigration to others, could easily bolster their credibility on abortion among many Americans who would otherwise dismiss them as simply anti-women reactionaries.  Conversely, the silence of the bishops on those other issues could hurt their credibility on abortion; and criticism of the bishops' competence and judgment on the other issues -- including denigration of the idea that they might speak "prophetically" in those areas -- could lead to a questioning of their competence, judgment, and ability to speak prophetically on any case, including on abortion.

My own view on principles vs. prudence is similar to what Mark argued in his fine article for the St. Thomas pro-life progressivism symposium:  It's a mistake to divide the world into two widely diverging categories of principle-based issues, on which the bishops must simply be followed, and prudence-based issues, on which the bishops should be silent.  In fact, all the main issues on the political agenda today contain significant elements of both fundamental principle and prudential judgment, even if the fundamentals constrain decisionmaking more in some cases than in others.  Indeed, as both natural-law and more "realistic" Protestant moral theologies recognize, between the fundamental principles and the case-specific prudential judgments typically lie a series of intermediate moral principles, more contingent and revisable than the broad fundamentals but less contingent and revisable than the specific judgments.

Tom

Monday, April 10, 2006

Conscience and School Choice

If anyone finds themselves in the Baltimore area tomorrow hankering for a good religion-in-public-schools discussion, stop by this symposium at the University of Maryland Law School, where I'll be presenting a paper titled "The Sanctity of Conscience in an Age of School Choice: Grounds for Skepticism."  An excerpt:

Teacher autonomy, and to a lesser extent student autonomy, are inconsistent with the level of school autonomy that is necessary to cultivate a system of public education that is accountable to its constituents and does not shirk from the task of value inculcation.  Under a one-size-fits-all approach to public education, conscience provides a voice to individuals who do not fit.  In the currently unfolding era where public education does not presume that one size will suffice, the role of conscience is considerably less clear.

For those who can't make the trek to Baltimore, I hope to post the paper and invite feedback in the next couple of weeks.

Rob

Garry Wills on Jesus and Politics

Garry Wills has followed up his new book, What Jesus Meant, with an op-ed that has already been commented on here.  The reflection below, by Martin Marty, may be of interest to some MOJ-readers.

Sightings  4/10/06

Wills's Jesus
-- Martin E. Marty

"Jesus, Jesus and More Jesus ... Jesus is all the rage in the media these days," writes Lynn Garrett in
Publishers Weekly Religion BookLine.  She's right.  You can save time by reading Garry Wills's terse What Jesus Meant, a typical Willsian "makes you think" book; you can then skip the new Gnostic "Gospel of Judas," the search for the "real" historical Jesus, all of the Jesus-as-nice-guy sentimentalities, "gentle Jesus meek and mild," the Da Vinci Code fictions, and Thomas Jefferson's snippets that show Jesus as a moralist.
 
Wills is Roman Catholic, though more Catholic than Roman.  He is devoted to orthodox Catholic faith in Jesus the Resurrected One, to be celebrated this Sunday.  Sticking with the gospels, he finds no trace of anything that founds or backs the Roman or any other hierarchy in those four little openers to the New Testament.  (Those who unwisely do not want to spend the time to read his 143-page Easter card, What Jesus Meant, can get the gist in his condensation, "What Jesus Did," in the Spring issue of The American Scholar.)  Formal biblical critical scholars may consider his confidence in the four gospels to be historically naive -- being naive has rarely been a charge against Wills! -- but he takes them as the only words about Jesus that the church, through the ages, has read and heard to make up its mind about Jesus as the Christ of faith; and, with the letters of the apostle Paul, they are the really challenging texts.

What did Jesus say and do?  Nothing that would please the WWJD -- "What Would Jesus Do?" -- crowd.  If their likes favor what gets advertised as "family values," they won't find a line of support: Jesus was announcing the Kingdom of God, not the family.  If others want to join the "New Fundamentalists," the liberal-radical Jesus Seminar scholars who vote for the few "authentic" sayings of Jesus, they will be cutting Jesus to fit their size and side in the culture wars.

Some of them might think Wills is doing the same, but I think he'd like them to check him out with the four gospel texts before dismissing him.  The gospel texts are out to show that "Jesus is not just like us, that he has higher rights and powers."  "He was called a bastard and was rejected by his own brothers and the rest of his family.  He was an outcast among outcasts, ... homeless ....  He especially depended on women, who were 'second-class citizens' ....  His very presence was subversive ....  He was in constant danger ... called an agent of the devil, ... never respectable ... scandalous."  Jefferson and others looked in the gospels for "diamonds in the dunghill," but Wills thinks their efforts would end "like finding New York City at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean."

These are two different worlds.  Wills's apostle Paul did not corrupt the Jesus of the gospels; he wrote a generation before they were put together, and his belief in the power of the resurrected Lord Jesus is what spread among those who kept the stories and sayings of Jesus alive.  "The gospels express the ineffable in the language appropriate for the task, a language inherited from the Jewish scriptures," leaving a "task for faith, a reasoning faith," but "faith all the same."

Christians call this Holy Week.  The book is well timed for them and it.

For Further Reading:
See the Spring issue of The American Scholar for Gary Wills's article "What Jesus Did."  Single issues are $9.00.  Check your library, or order it from [email protected].

Martin E. Marty's biography, current projects, upcoming events, publications, and contact information can be found at
www.illuminos.com.

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Sightings
comes from the Martin Marty Center at the University of Chicago Divinity School.
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mp

Sunday, April 9, 2006

Horwitz on Balkin on Wills on Jesus

Check out this great post, by Paul Horwitz, at Prawfsblawg.  It's about religion, politics, law, Jesus, public reason, and all that.

Saturday, April 8, 2006

Urbanism, again: "The Liturgy of the City Street"

Here, at "GodSpy," is an interesting essay by Paul Grenier and Tim Patitsas called "The Liturgy of the City Street."  "Why are good cities such a rarity in America?", they ask.  "Why are so many of our cities and towns lifeless and ugly—and hard to love?  What are they missing?  It’s the spirit of the liturgy."

They ask:

Why is it that despite all this well-financed New Urbanism, we still have practically no cities in the United States that rival in their humanity even an average small town in Mexico or Macedonia, to say nothing of a Paris or a Prague? Why is it that the more money we throw at building 'traditional' new 'developments', the more banal and pointless they become?

The problem is not with Jacobs' and Alexander's ideas, which are profound. The problem is the superficial way in which developers and city planners understood and implemented them. Not surprisingly, they acted on the ideas that were most easily absorbed into the logic of "free market" real estate development. The problem is, it's this same logic that's hostile to the entire spirit of Jacobs' and Alexander's recommendations.

Exactly what is that spirit? It's the spirit of the liturgy. . .

There's a lot more.  Check it out.  Any reactions from Catholic new-urbanist and MOJ-friend Philip Bess?

President Bush's remarks at National Catholic Prayer Breakfast

Here is an excerpt from the President's address at the National Catholic Prayer Breakfast the other day:

We needed a hopeful moment for this world of ours. It's a time when more people have a chance to claim freedom that God intended for us all. It's also a time of great challenge. In some of the most advanced parts of our world, some people no longer believe that the desire for liberty is universal. Some people believe you cannot distinguish between right and wrong. The Catholic Church rejects such a pessimistic view of human nature -- (applause) -- and offers a vision of human freedom and dignity rooted in the same self-evident truths of America's founding. . . .

Freedom is a gift from the Almighty because it is -- and because it is universal, our Creator has written it into all nature. To maintain this freedom, societies need high moral standards. And the Catholic Church and its institutions play a vital role in helping our citizens acquire the character we need to live as free people.

In the last part of the 20th century, we saw the appeal of freedom in the hands of a priest from Poland. When Pope John Paul II ascended to the chair of St. Peter, the Berlin Wall was still standing. His native Poland was occupied by a communist power. And the division of Europe looked like a permanent scar across the continent. Yet Pope John Paul told us, "Be not afraid," because he knew that an empire built on lies was ultimately destined to fail. By reminding us that our freedom and dignity rests on truths about man and his nature, Pope John Paul II set off one of the greatest revolutions for freedom the world has ever known. . . .

Like his predecessor, Pope Benedict understands that the measure of a free society is how it treats the weakest and most vulnerable among us. In his Christmas homily, the Pope noted that the Savior came to earth as a "defenseless child," and said that the splendor of that Christmas shines upon every child, born and unborn. (Applause.) Here in the United States, we work to strengthen a culture of life, through many state and federal initiatives that expand the protections of the unborn. These initiatives reflect the consensus of the American people acting through their elected representatives, and we will continue to work for the day when every child is welcome in life and protected in law. (Applause.) . . .

Now, I realize that many thoughtful, reasonable, and faithful Catholics are convinced that words like these ring hollow when compared to their understanding and evaluation of this Administration's policies and this President's actions.  Fair enough.  Still . . .  "[F]reedom and dignity rests on truths about man and his nature."  Isn't this the (or, at least, a) premise of our whole enterprise?

Paul Robinson on moral philosophers and desert

Paul H. Robinson (University of Pennsylvania Law School) has posted The Role of Moral Philosophers in the Competition Between Deonotological and Empirical Desert on SSRN. Here is the abstract:

    Desert appears to be in ascendence as a distributive principle for criminal liability and punishment but there is confusion as to whether it is a deontological or an empirical notion of desert that is or should be promoted. Each offers a distinct advantage over the other.

    Deontological desert, derived as it is from principles of right and good, transcends community and situation to give a notion of justice that can be relied upon even to reveal errors in popular notions of justice. On the other hand, empirical desert can be more easily operationalized than deontological desert because, contrary to common wisdom, there is a good deal of agreement on its meaning, but it fails to provide the transcendent foundation that deontological desert can provide. Empirical desert can only tell us what people believe is just not what actually is just.

    What role do moral philosophers play in the competition between deontological and empirical desert? One might assume them on the deontological side, facing the research social psychologists who are mapping shared intuitions of justice for empirical desert, but the situation is more complex. Moral philosophy has come to rely upon intuitions of justice in both its formal and informal analytic methods, which both helps and hurts its usefulness. The moral philosophy literature today is the richest available source of intuitions of justice, which any serious research scientist ought to use as their starting point in mapping intuitions. But moral philosophers' reliance on intuitions of justice can undermine their ability to produce a deontological notion of desert that transcends the popular view and that can tell us, among other things, when shared intuitions of justice are wrong.

(Thanks to Larry Solum for the link).

Meacham on "God and America's Founders"

Newsweek has a long article adapted from Jon Meacham's new book,“American Gospel: God, the Founding Fathers, and the Making of a Nation.”  Here is a taste:

The great good news about America—the American gospel, if you will—is that religion shapes the life of the nation without strangling it. Driven by a sense of providence and an acute appreciation of the fallibility of humankind, the Founders made a nation in which faith should not be singled out for special help or particular harm. The balance between the promise of the Declaration of Independence, with its evocation of divine origins and destiny, and the practicalities of the Constitution, with its checks on extremism, remains the most brilliant of American successes.

The Founding Fathers and presidents down the ages have believed in a God who brought forth the heavens and the earth, and who gave humankind the liberty to believe in Him or not, to love Him or not, to obey Him or not. God had created man with free will, for love coerced is no love at all, only submission. That is why the religious should be on the front lines of defending freedom of religion. . . .

Volokh on the San Francisco resolution

A few weeks ago, some of us blogged about the recent non-binding resolution passed by the San Francisco Board of Supervisors "urging Cardinal William Levada, in his capacity has head of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith at the Vatican, to withdraw his discriminatory and defamatory directive that Catholic Charities of the Archdiocese of San Francisco stop placing children in need of adoption with homosexual households."

Eugene Volokh has a interesting post on the subject.  And, I note that a lawsuit has been filed, alleging that the First Amendment "forbids an official purpose to disapprove of a particular religion, religious beliefs, or of religion in general."  (Thanks to Religion Clause.)

Immigration and "Welcoming the Stranger"

An interesting exchange at The Corner, National Review's blog.  Ramesh Ponnuru writes:

I think there is a legitimate charitable element to immigration. We don't offer asylum to persecuted foreigners primarily to help ourselves, although that may sometimes be a happy side-effect. We should "welcome the stranger," as the Catholic bishops say.

John Derbyshire responds:

In a lot of issues like this there is surely a difference between the injunctions religion places on us as persons, and those (if any) it places on us as nations.

In a lot of ways, the things I would (A) hope to be myself (and hope for the people around me to be), and the things I would (B) wish for my nation to be, are actually opposite. Generosity, for example, is a fine thing in a person, but not necessarily in a nation, since the only way a nation can be generous is by disbursing the money of its taxpayers. Similarly, I prefer trusting people to suspicious ones: but I don't think a nation should be trusting. I'd prefer my nation to be deeply suspicious of other nations, and of people who show up asking for admittance, and of citizens, or corporations, who make claims on the public fisc.

And even these arguments are imbedded in a larger one: If, as a nation, we act out Christian teachings (or Hindu teachings, or Muslim teachings), aren't we favoring an establishment of religion?

Aren't religious injunctions better understood as strictly personal--as injunctions on us, individual human beings? I can't say I've thought this through, and I'm sure there is a mass of theology on it. Surely any religion not completely other-worldly must acknowledge raison d'etat?

Ponnuru replies:

I certainly agree . . . that we have many moral duties that we must perform as individuals, not through the state. But offering asylum for the persecuted is a charitable act that only states can do. I don't think it amounts to establishing a religion--or, rather, establishing the several religions that agree that it is right and good to offer asylum (or charity in general). I don't think you reach the point of establishment until you require church attendance, require oaths of agreement with theological points, grant special subsidies to certain religious bodies--that sort of thing. . . .

Interesting.