I am grateful to Michael P. for introducing the thread on the work of Elizabeth Anscombe and Professor Kaveny’s use of her work regarding the abortion issue and the Phoenix case. I am further grateful to other MoJ contributors who have engaged in this particular discussion.
Professor Kaveny has also offered some important insights by relying on the work of Germain Grisez. This necessitates on my part the need to point out that his, i.e., Grisez’s, method that Professor Kaveny relies on—asking the question “why?—must be raised for both humans, meaning the mother and the child, not just one, meaning the mother.
In doing so, I fail to see where the Kaveny appropriation from Anscombe asks this question on behalf of the child’s interest while it is raised on behalf of the mother’s interest. This is an incomplete appropriation of Anscombe and of Grisez. Having said this, I’ll use the methodology that Professor Kaveny proposes in the context of a person dealing with, let us say, cancer. Then we might understand more about the nuances that Professor Kaveny attempts to present.
So, let me posit a first case. Here, patient Alpha has lung cancer. Alpha’s doctors notify the patient that the cancer has not metastasized to adjacent organs or tissue. This is good. But, the doctors recommend removal of the lungs, both of which are affected by the cancer. Their gaze is focused on the lung cancer. Following the line of consideration offered by Kaveny, the surgeons performing surgery on Alpha have asked: “what are they doing and why are they doing this?” In response to what they are doing, they are intending to remove the cancer-infected organs, i.e., the lungs, in order to remove cancer from Alpha’s body. Why? Well, the answer is obvious: to remove the cancer that threatens Alpha’s life. After all, “an intentional act is a purposeful act.” Moreover, the doctors will supplement their response with the sage position that “[w]e do not...intend every consequence caused by our action—even if we foresee that they will occur.” Taking NyQuil, which a doctor recommends for a cold or the flu will give a patient a “buzz” but will also help, here: the intended act, to relieve the symptoms of the cold or flu. Relief rather than buzz is intended.
So, back to Alpha. The doctors intend to remove the lungs that are infected with the cancer. Why? To remove the cancer and prevent it from spreading. Fine. But according to the plan proposed by Professor Kaveny, the doctors do not intend every consequence of their action even though they foresee that they will occur. Only the intended act, i.e., the removal of infected tissue, the lungs, is intended. The fact that Alpha will die since Alpha no longer has lungs—a foreseen consequence—is immaterial to the Kaveny analysis since this result is not intended.
Let us take a second case. Patient Omega has lymphatic cancer. Omega is informed by Omega’s doctors that a plasmapheresis is needed. Why? The infected plasma must be eliminated because of its infiltration by cancerous cells. The doctors remove all of Omega’s blood. They extract all the offending plasma, which is discarded, and they return the platelets to Omega. The doctors’ intention, once again, is to remove the offending tissue, the plasma. They know that a consequence of their action will be the death of Omega, since Omega needs plasma as well as platelets, but their intention remains pure—to eliminate the cancer-bearing tissue. This is their intention, nothing more, nothing less.
So now I must return to the Phoenix case. I submit that there is something that is fundamentally missing from the Kaveny appropriation of Anscombe and Grisez reasoning here. The acts that are proposed by both Alpha’s and Omega’s doctors are intentional and purposeful. They know what they are doing, but do they really understand why? I suggest that they do not because they do not look beyond the limited purpose they pursue because, in spite of the known and foreseeable consequences of inevitable death, they proceed with killing their patients even though that is not their objective. They need to look beyond the limited purpose and ask: are they saving human life or not?
In the context of the Phoenix case in which this thread originated, are the doctors and their hospital asking the question: are they saving human lives? Apparently only one of the two involved. The questions “what” and “why?” must be comprehensively rather than narrowly asked here. The procedure contemplated must cover all patients involved and affected by the procedures, not just one. If doctors should be able to understand that the functions of lungs are important to Alpha and that the presence of plasma is important to Omega even though removal is their only purpose, the procedures and their accompanying intentions conflict with the broader purpose of saving their patients’ lives, should other doctors, let’s say in Phoenix, be able to extend the same inquiry to the two human patients involved in the Phoenix case? Professor Kaveny’s suggestion that “In a situation where both mother and baby otherwise would die, ... one could make a strong case that it is fair to go ahead with the procedure” is missing some essential consideration of the questions: what is being done?, and why is it being done? Her answer to these vital, yes vital, questions, is lacking. She concludes by stating: “In a situation where both mother and baby otherwise would die, ... one could make a strong case that it is fair to go ahead with the procedure.” This may well be the case if one considers only the welfare of the mother. But what if we also consider the welfare of the child?
If I may draw from Shakespeare, an abortion by any other name would be the same: an abortion. Why do I suggest this?
The reasoning employed by Professor Kaveny is applied to only one of the patient’s interests, not both. Sadly, it is not applied to the interests of the child in the same way that it is applied to the mother. Both of their lives are truly important; both are at stake. When viewed from the perspective of the child, the surgical separation procedure is not an unintended side effect; rather, it is something that should not be done.
The unborn child is Alpha and Omega.
But, what if one were to consider the separation of the mother from the child, and the child becomes the primary concern? When the tables are turned—but the Kaveny analysis is still employed—would the result of Kaveny’s reasoning process and its acceptance be the same?
RJA sj
Friday, May 14, 2010
Over the past days, several members of the Mirror of Justice have once again contributed thoughts to questions related to Catholic identity, Catholic teaching, and educational institutions that use the moniker “Catholic” in their self-identification. We have done this over the years, and I think this is a proper discussion. I wish we had more agreement on the perspectives and conclusions pertaining to the underlying issues, but we do not. Hence, the discussion needs to be continued. I think the catalyst for our engagement this time on these matters was Russ’s several postings regarding the matter between Marquette University and Dr. Jodi O’Brien.
Today I am not going to discuss papal, dicastery, and conciliar texts that address issues dealing with the nature and identity of Catholic education. Neither will I add my thoughts regarding disagreements by the Church, the Vatican, Rome, theologians and educators—lay, clerical, or religious—on issues involving what is constitutive of Catholic education that is essential to the nature and essence of education that claims to be Catholic.
Today, I shall offer a few comments from Pope Benedict’s homily given earlier this morning at the Mass in Oporto, Portugal commemorating the tenth anniversary of the beatification of the two of the children who were at Fátima when our Blessed Mother appeared to them over ninety years ago. [HERE] (In relevant disclosure, some of my family origins are from Oporto; the rest are from the Açores and Madeira—so the pope’s trip to Portugal has special meaning to me and some of my family! Apparently, I come not from a long line of fishermen—what would our Lord say about that?—but from an ancestry of winemakers and farmers who grew grapes and sold them to winemakers, but I digress.)
Pope Benedict offered a number of thoughts about Christian and Catholic identity that, in my estimation, have a direct and positive link to who we are and whom we freely choose to be—disciples of Jesus Christ and members of the Church—the People of God, the Body of Christ, the Communion of Saints.
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Monday, May 10, 2010
Today’s The New York Times online commentary [HERE] has an important and fascinating critique authored by Stanley Fish on David Strauss’s new book The Living Constitution. I think Fish is largely correct in his criticism of Strauss’s de-emphasis of the Constitution’s text, and this is captured in the title of his commentary, “Why Bother With the Constitution?” But, in fairness to Strauss, I also must read his work in its entirely to see if there is something else in his presentation. But, back to the Constitution.
Yes, why bother with it? Fish properly notes that we’ll likely be hearing a good deal about the Constitution as Solicitor General Kagan’s nomination to be an Associate Justice of the Supreme Court advances in the coming weeks.
Fish is largely concerned with the ceremonial role that he sees Strauss granting to the text of the Constitution; moreover, Fish concludes that the real flesh of our basic law, as understood by Strauss and presented in the book’s argument, is not the text of the Framers but “precedents.” Fish’s concern of Strauss’s position concludes that what is at stake is not careful interpretation of the norms of our basic law, i.e., the Constitution, but appropriation not only of precedents but also inferences. In short, Fish raises a crucial question and answers it: “Why is Strauss trying to take the Constitution out of the constitutional interpretation loop? Because he wants to liberate us from it as a constraint.” Fish later notes that Strauss concedes that the Constitution “is valuable because it provides common ground among the American people,” but, is that all? Fish further states that this common ground is not established on the foundation of the Constitution’s text but on what someone may wish it to mean had this person actually done the drafting of the Constitution.
I sympathize with many of the concerns raised by Fish. The words of laws—be they in the Constitution or statutes or regulations—mean something. Moreover, they should have far more durability than the fancy of the passing moment. Otherwise, catchy phrases like “penumbras” or “the mystery of life” become the Constitution and the Constitution itself becomes misplaced. Good legal interpretation must begin with the text that is authoritative. Good interpretation of the Constitution therefore must begin with the words its drafters gave us. Yes, their thoughts, their words, the objectives they broadly identified by choosing the language finally used, mean something not only at the beginning of the interpretative enterprise but also at its end. The necessary continuity with the law’s normative requirements identifying rights and justifying claims, recognizing obligations and naming duties must be coherent with the official text and not something else. Thus, good interpretation also must end with the words the same drafters gave us. If some find this method too constricting to the meaning of law, they should take stock of the legitimate processes that exist to modify it through the amendment process.
Otherwise, to borrow from John Marshall, it is not a Constitution which we are expounding but something else. Like Stanley Fish, I’ll cast my vote for the Constitution that has endured because it is the one I can read, not the one I cannot.
RJA sj
Thursday, May 6, 2010
I should like to thank Steve, Susan, Rick, and John for their various contributions regarding Nicholas D. Kristof’s The New York Times op-ed piece of May 2, 2010, “Who Can Mock This Church?” As you might surmise, I have a response to Mr. Kristof and his views. At first I wondered if he was mocking the Church or if he was mocking certain people in the Church. His commendation of people like Sister Cathy and Fathers Michael and Mario is clear, but his condemnation of “cardinals” and others in the Vatican is equally unambiguous. However, his lack of understanding of the Church, the People of God, the Body of Christ, the Communion of Saints is limited; moreover, this limitation is patent in what he has to say about the Church that is one. This is what he mocks. What some may call wisdom in his op-ed piece, I call a lack of understanding.
I continue by raising the question: would he have used such a title about mocking somebody or some institution if it were not the Roman Catholic Church? I have no immediate answer to my own question, but there is something in his title that suggests the Church can be mocked even though persons or other institutions with whom he might also disagree ought not to be mocked, at least publicly.
But this is not my point of writing. When I read Mr. Kristof’s op-ed piece when it was published, I found myself disagreeing with him on many fronts. No surprise there for many of you.
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Monday, April 26, 2010
Thanks to Rob for his commentary and juxtaposition of the Clark Hoyt “Questioning the Pope” (The New York Times, April 24) and Ross Douthat’s “The Pontiff and the Press” (The New York Times, April 21). As is the case with Rob, I am not surprised by the Hoyt piece’s conclusion.
I have stated in the past that sexual abuse of and sexual misconduct with children by anyone is sinful and probably criminal. I also find that the media often do provide an important service to the public by bringing to our attention this plague so that it can be stopped. Most members of the Church have learned some hard lessons in this regard, and I think we’ll be learning some more in the future. But I also hope that the rest of society, including the media, will learn that no one can victimize anyone else, especially children and pretend that these sins and crimes never happened.
Having said this, I think Mr. Hoyt and those who agree with him on the focus of his article need to be asked some additional questions. One of them concerns the role of plaintiffs’ counsels in trying cases in the media—or, more accurately, turning over sensitive documents (probably from discovery) to reporters and other media representatives who may not understand the context or the language in which they are written. This has happened before, and I think it likely to happen again. This is a matter—a grave problem in my estimation—that he quickly dismisses.
Elsewhere, Mr. Hoyt raises a good and obvious question presented by others: “why it (the Times) isn’t giving equal effort to sex abuse in public schools, or in other religions”? But he avoids answering the question he poses, and instead he contends that “it would be irresponsible to ignore the continuing revelations.” It seems that these “continuing revelations” only involve Catholics. I would suggest that, in addition to what happened in cases involving Catholics and sexual abuse and sexual misconduct, it would be irresponsible to ignore the continuing revelations from sources such as the Department of Education’s 2004 report [Download US Dept of Education Educator Sexual Misconduct] synthesizing literature on educator sexual misconduct that include by extend beyond the Church. Tragically, what this report contains is about the present day and the victimization of young people that Mr. Hoyt’s remark dismisses.
His journal, The New York Times, and the Church sometimes share the same or similar perspectives on important issues. However, there are other occasions when the two do not because of different values or different motivations. For example, during the Second World War, the Times praised the efforts of Pope Pius XII; however, in the late 1990s, this influential member of the media ignore its past reporting and was vocal in its criticism of Papa Pacelli without taking stock of what it had said of him a half century earlier. Why, I ask? New values?
On another front, the Times, while generally complimentary of Paul VI’s October 1965 address to the General Assembly of the United Nations, had to criticize him in an editorial published shortly after the pope’s UN intervention by calling the pope’s concerns about artificial birth control “an unnecessarily narrow, old-fashioned interpretation of natural law doctrine.” I, and I know many others, did not then and do not now find Paul VI’s words to be “unnecessarily narrow” or “an old-fashioned interpretation of natural law doctrine.” But, how to explain the disagreement with the Times? A different set of values, perhaps—the pope’s based on the foundation of an objective moral order; and the Times’, well, some other source, I gather.
I hope I am wrong, but I see accumulating evidence that this gulf between the Church’s teachings and the values will continue to grow with the positions of some in the influential media outlets. Should the gulf of values continue to expand, I pray that the Church and her members will stay to serve as counterpoints to the views and values of a contemporary culture that condemn only some sins and crimes but not all others.
RJA sj