Prof. Hadley Arkes asked me to post the following reply to my recent post, and I am happy to do so:
I’d like to respond to a couple of the concerns that Richard Garnett raises in his post today on my arguments about Hobby Lobby. I need to recall to him and my other friends that I have been thoroughly sympathetic to the use of RFRA. What I've argued is that RFRA is apt and useful because it creates, for the religious, that zone in which the government would have to bear a heavier burden of justification when it restricts personal freedom. The saving grace of RFRA is that it secures, for the religious, the kind of protection that the courts used to offer more fully for many others when the judges were far stricter in testing the justifications for laws that restricted private rights.
But as Garnett rightly says, my own view [is] that the case could have been argued on deeper foundations. One friend of mine, experienced in litigation on religion, argued that Hobby Lobby could have been argued even more clearly on the Takings Clause. Richard Epstein and the libertarians would invoke principles of freedom of association in fending off these intrusions into a private family arranging its private business. Are they wrong for conceiving other ways of arguing the same case? What I've been pointing out is that these arguments, draw from the principles of a regime of law, are not diminished moral arguments. For they draw their meaning from the understanding of the "human person," a term given deeper resonance by our religious teaching. Only those beings we call “moral agents” can impart a moral purpose to inanimate matter; and so yes, it is no trivial matter to justify the restrictions placed on these kinds of beings, as they seek, even in prosaic matters, to honor their own understanding of the ways of life rightful for them. My pitch has been that if we begin from the classic understanding of the moral ground of the law, and the burdens of justification that the government should rightly bear, we will have provided an even former moral grounding for religious freedom.
But I have a question in turn: Garnett says that he doesn’t agree with my argument against a “right to be wrong,” but he never sets out that argument or actually explains why it is wrong.
He also cites this passage of mine in which I sought to bring together the strands of the argument that, taken together, would have a powerful effect in striking at the very ground of the law:
I’ve argued … that the Hobby Lobby case could have been won without setting into place these premises: that religious convictions are marked by “beliefs,” rather than “truths;” that we accept as a “religion” virtually anything that people tell us they regard as their religion; that on the strength of these “beliefs” held “sincerely,” we give exemptions from the laws that are imposed on everyone else; and finally, as the Court said in Hobby Lobby, “it is not for [the government] to say that [our] religious beliefs are mistaken or insubstantial.”
Now I’m curious: Have I not given an accurate account the strands that have actually been woven through these cases? If I have any of these wrong, I would be glad to find out that I’m wrong. But if those strands are there, as I’ve marked them out here, why would they not be the carrie[r]s of principles quite destructive for the laws?
Forgive me one more point on a question I posed in First Things, and which I haven’t seen addressed yet:
The Catholic Church doesn’t argue on abortion by appealing to revelation or belief. It argues in the reasoning of natural law, a combination woven of embryology and principled reasoning. And so I raised the question of whether the protections here under RFRA would apply to the Catholic businessman, reasoning on the matter in the style of the Church, but not to the businessman who uses precisely the same moral reasoning used by the Church, even while he disclaims any religious affiliation? As I've pointed out, this was exactly the problem faced by Congress in the Civil Rights Restoration Act of 1988: Would they give an exemption only to religious hospitals in sparing them the obligation to perform abortions? Or would they honor also the moral objections of those hospitals that were morally opposed to abortions but had no religious definition?
One could simply say, I suppose: yes, we are simply working with the positive law, which offers its protections here only for the religious under RFRA. The others may have to seek a remedy in other ways. But that hardly gives a coherent moral account of the jurisprudence we are shaping.
Arkes' reply clarifies nicely one of our disagreements. He says that "the case could have been argued on deeper foundations" and, in response, I say, "no, it could not." The "Takings" and "freedom of association" arguments that Arkes mentions are, at the present time and given the current legal givens, losing arguments (regardless of how deep their foundations go and regardless of their moral appeal).
Next, Arkes says "Garnett says that he doesn’t agree with my argument against a 'right to be wrong,' but he never sets out that argument or actually explains why it is wrong." This is true. Such an explanation didn't and does not seem (to me) necessary, as it was provided in Ryan Anderson's response to Arkes (and, I think, in Dignitatis Humanae).
Third, Arkes writes:
One could simply say, I suppose: yes, we are simply working with the positive law, which offers its protections here only for the religious under RFRA. The others may have to seek a remedy in other ways. But that hardly gives a coherent moral account of the jurisprudence we are shaping.
Once again, I think Arkes has helpfully identified our clear disagreement. I would "simply" say precisely what Arkes says, above. The question whether a "coherent moral account" can be given of our current positive-law arrangements regarding religious freedom is an interesting and important one, but that question is (very) different from ones having to do with the arguments to be made in real-world, present-day courts, to judges charged with interpreting and applying not first principles of morality but unsurprisingly imperfect statutes and doctrines.
After ten years . . . I am really happy to announce that, as of today, Mirror of Justice is now part of the Law Professor Blogs Network, and I am very grateful to my friend and longtime MOJ supporter and reader, Paul Caron, for inviting us aboard. I hope MOJ readers like the new "look" and that you'll all continue to check in, and spread the word!
The Islamic terrorist group ISIS has recently rebranded itself (in Western fashion) as the Islamic State. We mustn't let this self-promotion lull us into any illusions of legitimacy, however. This terrorist organization has declared war on the Christians of Mosul. The Christians in Mosual must convert to Islam, pay vast fines, or be killed -- or, in one last indignity, be robbed (of their crucifixes) as they flee for their lives. The story is here
Pope Francis has repeatedly condemned this persecution, and the U.N. Secretary General Ban Ki-Moon has declared it a crime against humanity. What the terrorists known as the Islamic State are accomplishing in Mosul is without a doubt genocide within the meaning of the Convention on the Prevention and Punishment of the Crime of Genocide, which was signed in 1948 and took effect in 1951.
Yet where is the White House in all of this? Why has President Obama not condemned *this* genocide?
President Obama needn't start by calling it what it is, that is, genocide. He could start by, say, actually acting to enforce the International Religious Freedom Act of 1998. Yes, yes, I recognize that "religious freedom" doesn't do conceptual justice to genocide, but "religious freedom" doesn't itself do justice to the essence of true religion, yet nearly everyone in the West seems to be on board with "religious freedom," at least nominally. And so, when will that great champion of "religious freedom," the USCCB, bestir itself to condemn this epochal violation of religious freedom and perhaps even call the Catholics of the United States to prayer and penance in solidarity with their persecuted brothers and sisters in Christ?
The Syrian Catholic Archeparchy in Mosul was burned to the ground the other day as a part of the ongoing purge. What traces of ancient Christianity will be left in Iraq when U.S. (and other Western) foreign policy has run its course there? I think the terrorists there know the answer, which no doubt emboldens them still further.
Today at Public Discourse, my Princeton colleague Jameson Doig defends his revisionist understanding of marriage against the criticisms I advanced yesterday in our week-long debate about the nature of marriage.
http://www.thepublicdiscourse.com/2014/07/13528/
This begins round two of our debate. Tomorrow, I will respond to Professor Doig's latest effort. Then on Friday we will post a joint essay taking stock of the debate.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
One interesting question that came up during the Q&As following the first set of papers at this year's Annual Law & Religion Roundtable was something like the one set forth in this post's title. My rendition of it puts "the First Amendment" in scare quotes because a full answer to the question requires challenging the nomenclature of "First Amendment." (Indeed, I am not sure that we have properly understood the distorting effects on our understanding of what the first set of constitutional amendments intended to accomplish that result from the fateful decision to tack those amendments on to the end of the document rather than interpolating them into the particular provisions being amended. But that is a topic for some other days.)
To know what difference it might have made to include explicit conscience protection in the Constitution as initially amended, we have to know the form that conscience protection would have taken. Leading candidates would be those included in James Madison's proposals. And that plural is correct: Madison simultaneously proposed two different amendments that included explicit "conscience" protection.
One of these proposals protected against federal government action while the other protected against state government action. The first was intended for Article I, Section 9: "That in article 1st, section 9, between clauses 3 and 4, be inserted these clauses, to wit: The civil rights of none shall be abridged on account of religious belief or worship, nor shall any national religion be established, nor shall the full and equal rights of conscience be in any manner, or on any pretext, infringed. . . .”). The second would have gone into Article I, Section 10: “Fifthly. That in article 1st, section 10, between clauses 1 and 2, be inserted this clause, to wit: No State shall violate the equal rights of conscience, or the freedom of the press, or the trial by jury in criminal cases.”
Attention to the different wording and proposed locations of these provisions provokes a couple of thoughts. First, "religious belief" is a distinct concept from "equal rights of conscience." Second, there would be no establishment clause-type limit on accommodations for conscience at either the federal or state level. The reason for no such limit at the federal level is that there was no "establishment clause" other than the prohibition against establishing a "national religion." And the reason for no such limit at the state level is that there was no establishment clause at all for the states.
(Perhaps for the sake of completeness, it is worth noting another proposed amendment that protected a form of conscientious objection but did not use the word "conscience": "[N]o person religiously scrupulous of bearing arms shall be compelled to render military service in person.")