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.

Sunday, November 12, 2006

What's the "Business Case" for Women on Boards as a Matter of Equity?

I sincerely doubt that it's possible to articulate a particularly compelling equity argument for having more women on corporate boards without embracing some notion that women bring something to the table that men don't bring.  If the best argument we can make for why we should have more women on corporate boards is that they are, as Mark suggests, "absolutely no different in any respect from their male colleagues in the way they approach[] their responsibilities and in the types of decisions they made and the issues they consider[] important", what's the "business case" for spending anything more than a token amount of time and energy on the issue, to ensure the corporation isn't actively discriminating against qualified women in board selection or in grooming women to assume board positions?

I tend to agree with the unfortunate Larry Summers and the much-maligned Linda Hirschmann that active discrimination is not the most significant factor keeping women out of the top positions across society that would naturally put them into the conventional pool of applicants for board positions.  Much more significant, I think, are the choices that women fortunate enough to have choices about their career paths are making (Linda Hirschmann's point) and, for women not fortunate enough to have significant choices, the constraints to career advancements imposed by primary childcare responsibilities (the point raised by feminists legal theorists like Joan Williams).  Addressing either of those factors would require much more than simply guarding against active discrimination.  Unless we want to embrace the proposals of some feminists that women should abandon their childcare responsibilities, it would require significant restructuring of the workplace.

But why should any corporation be motivated to do anything really significant, anything that might really make a difference in how many women they might eventually find in the pool of applicants for board positions, if all they get in return is more people on boards who will think and act exactly like the men already on their boards?

So, if the "equity" argument comes down to simply not discriminating against women, I don't think it gets us far in terms of getting more women on corporate boards.  If it's something more, but that something more is not that women bring anything different than men bring that is of any value to a corporate board, I just don't understand what that might be.  The P.R. value of looking as though the company is progressive and not exclusive?  What else?  Unless there's something else that would be concretely valuable to corporate governance that we can identify, aren't we left wondering, like Michael's colleague , "how many such semi-ignorant board members do we need" to satisfy this amorphous "equity" demand?

The source of my conviction that women do bring something unique to the table, and that it would be valuable in any type of corporate board, lies not simply in personal experiences and anecdotal evidence.  I honestly believe that Pope John Paul II wasn't simply mouthing platitudes when he tried to articulate the unique "genius of women", such as in this excerpt from his 1990 Letter to Women:

Women will increasingly play a part in the solution of the serious problems of the future: . . . euthanasia, drugs, health care, the ecology, etc. In all these areas a greater presence of women in society will prove most valuable, for it will help to manifest the contradictions present when society is organized solely according to the criteria of efficiency and productivity, and it will force systems to be redesigned in a way which favors the processes of humanization which mark the ‘civilization of love.’

Now, as in so many of the things we talk about on MOJ, the challenge is translating this conviction into the vocabulary of secular discourse, into the language of reason rather than faith.  It's not easy to articulate a convincing "business case" for the kinds of workplace restructuring that would be necessary to bring this sort of humanization into the corporate world.  And the success of this kind of effort certainly wouldn't be measurable by something as concrete as an increase in stock price.  But I do think that some secular feminist theorists (notably the dependency or care feminists) are starting to do this.   And I think that where they start is a recognition that arguments based on simple equity alone aren't very convincing.  And I'm convinced that Catholic thought offers some interesting resources for building on their work.

Lisa

More on Prophecy and Practical Reasoning About Human Life

Having been a part of the so-called “dust up” with Cathy Kaveny during the presidential campaign two years ago, I appreciate learning from Professor Kaveny’s continuing engagement with the foundational social and moral question of our time, namely how to ensure and promote sanctity of human life. During the past two years, I too have continued to think about these matters, some of which is shared in my forthcoming piece in the Journal of Catholic Legal Studies (published by St. John’s law school). I’ve also come toward greater appreciation of the contribution that Professor Kaveny has presented in her prior work toward securing greater respect for the life of the unborn, a positive and supportive dimension that I found largely missing in her messages during the “dust up,” but which I hope will return in her ongoing scholarly work.

In response to her recent message as posted by Michael Perry, I respectfully suggest that three points or factors ought to be added to, or given more attention within, Professor Kaveny’s analytical framework:

First, practical reasoning (or what Professor Kaveny calls “casuistical” discourse) and prophetic discourse should not be viewed invariably as mutually exclusive, but rather may often be mutually reinforcing. John Paul’s powerful prophetic message about the Culture (or, as he preferred to say, the “Gospel”) of Life and its contrast with the Culture of Death was a powerful message that has resonated across the globe and within this country. Without that appeal to our better selves, the opportunity for practical reasoning of the type Professor Kaveny now endorses might have been lost or diminished, as society might have continued a blind walk down a dark path. Arguments founded upon practical reason are more likely to have traction if the participants have appreciated the underlying moral stakes, which may be highlighted by prophetic discourse.

While Professor Kaveny mentions in passing the “important hortatory function [of prophecy], reminding us all about the transcendent importance of certain values,” she nonetheless sees prophecy primarily as undermining reasonable conversation rather than as perhaps creating the very occasion for the exercise of practical reasoning. See M. Cathleen Kaveny, Prophecy and Casuistry: Abortion, Torture and Moral Discourse, 51 Villanova Law Review 499 (2006). (In my view, Professor Kaveny overstates her case by characterizing prophecy as “moral chemotherapy,” thereby lumping all forms of prophetic discourse into a single and extreme category.)

Prophecy also shines the light of truth on overarching themes, so that we can better understand how we arrived at a dangerous point in which the sanctity of human life has come under assault from so many directions. As Professor Kaveny writes, with citation to James Gustafson, prophecy frequently identifies root causes of larger social and moral errors. What made John Paul’s Evangelium Vitae “‘new’ in a quite important way,” as Helen Alvaré observes, was “that abortion was not treated as a solitary issue but also as a paradigm of the “‘culture of death.’” What we have been witnessing in recent decades is the emergence of sharp divisions on a related series of the most fundamental questions of human existence. We have seen a pattern of societal dehumanization and collective subjugation of human dignity for the weak, helpless, and unwanted. Nor have these cultural trends arisen in a random and unrelated manner, but rather reflect an integrated anti-ethos of isolated, selfish, and radical autonomy. Through this culture of death, grounded on extreme individualism, we are seeing what Jacques Maritain called “the tragic isolation of each one in his or her own selfishness or helplessness.”

Interestingly, in the past, Professor Kaveny has made similar observations, noting that “[a] lenient attitude toward abortion . . . should finally be viewed as a prismatic and poignant example of a callousness toward life in general, a callousness that must be eradicated in all its forms.” Cathleen Kaveny, Toward a Thomistic Perspective on Abortion and the Law in Contemporary America, 55 The Thomist 343, 393 (1991).

Second, we say much about ourselves and our culture by whether we choose to characterize a statement or series of statements as largely prophetic or largely casuistical. When speaking of the “culture of death,” John Paul was addressing the perverted conscription of the language of legal rights and charity, even benevolence, in the service of the killing business. When a culture has so deformed the language of humanity and compassion as to describe the purging of the unborn as medical services and necessary health care, to characterize the elimination of the dependent aged as exhibiting compassion and respect for dignity, and to label human embryos as mere cell material, then plain speaking is essential and will appear prophetic. When the world has gone mad, the clear and sober voice of the sane man may appear extreme and disturbing. Such is the typical response to the words of a prophet in any age.

Third, if the Catholic witness for life is to maintain vitality and integrity, we must be careful not to give scandal to the faithful or to the nation at large by leaving the impression that contemptuous disregard for human life is not a serious breach with Catholic communion. When prominent Catholics are widely perceived as bending over backwards to justify votes for pro-choice political candidates, we inevitably begin to hear voices within our own parishes and faith communities citing these statements as evidence that the sanctity of life is not an important, or at least not an indispensable, Catholic value. Just as deleterious to the Catholic witness for life, we hear suggestions that promoting pro-life values in public life is like saying the Rosary each day, something good and to be encouraged to be sure, but not essential or central to our Catholic faith.

If anything, the danger of such scandal is even greater in the academic community, where published justifications by Catholic academics for supporting pro-choice politicians are held up by others as the defining mark of what a “thinking” Catholic says and does. Those of us who speak forthrightly and without ceasing about the central importance of human life, even of the unborn, thus are more easily dismissed by the larger academic community as either quaint or radical. The academic community instead favors (and regularly rewards with enhanced reputations, invitations to speak, and prestigious appointments at elite universities) those Catholics who appear to be ambivalent about abortion or whose pro-life views are seen as non-threatening or who at least appear unwilling to allow any fetish about fetuses to stand in the way of allegiance to liberal orthodoxy among the professoriate. While the appearance may not be the reality in the case of these Catholic academics, the appearance is created by their statements and actions and thus they have the moral responsibility to take vigorous action to correct those misimpressions.

In the past, Professor Kaveny appears to have recognized this very danger. She also spoke of the importance of “supporting and gradually extending a pro-life consensus,” which of course may only be achieved by unceasing and unambiguous statements about the value of human life at all its stages. (I must say, however, and many on both sides of the discussion noted this in private conversation at the time and since, this essential element of Professor Kaveny’s message was conspicuously missing from her commentary during the 2004 “dust up.”)

Finally, I am compelled to comment on Professor Kaveny’s “take” on the midterm elections: “Most Americans now believe the country needs a reasonable conversation; they want practical reason, not prophecy.” While I’m not at all convinced that the recent election turned on the question of the appropriate approach to abortion (and the reemergence of pro-life Democrats, at least for a brief moment, in this election suggests something more complex), I’m quite convinced that popular opinion cannot be the test by which we evaluate the need for a prophetic vision.

Reviewing the prophetic books of the Old Testament, for example, I find that it would have been the rare case in which the people of Israel would have chosen “prophecy” over what they preferred to see as “practical reason.” The prophets were unwelcome, indeed despised, precisely because they refused to follow elite conventions and engage with social and political leaders in “reasonable conversation.” The prophets themselves were sometimes reluctant to speak the hard but truthful words that they had been given by God, because they understandably did not want to be perceived as out-of-the-mainstream of the society in which they lived. The prophets nonetheless said what they did out of faithfulness.

As an academic, I hardly am an opponent of “practical reason,” and, most of the time, I am inclined toward the softer, gentler approach. But I should constantly be asking myself whether what I say, and how I say it, and just as importantly what I choose not to say, reflects my obsequious desire for acceptance in a larger academic community that is not receptive to the message of life, or instead whether I am being faithful to what God is calling me to say and do. When I stand before the Judgment Seat of Christ, I hope that He will judge that, at least some of the time, I truly did listen for and hear the voice of God and was faithful in speaking up for His little ones.

Greg Sisk

"We Have a Positive Idea To Offer"

Rocco Palma, of "Whispers in the Loggia" (link), has a thoughtful and worthwhile post-election essay about (among other things) how the Church and Catholics might better present and witness to the Faith in the public square, posted over at "Busted Halo."  A bit:

Moral of the tale: to be faithful to our Catholic values in the public square, to exhibit them with the care they deserve, means to stand up for them responsibly. It means a consistent witness, not just to the moral teachings on the ballot, but to how we’ve been taught to treat those with whom we disagree and to be patient with the process. . . .

Just like any other actor on the stage of this pluralist democracy, the church’s message is given a chance, and we only have so many of those before the opportunity is gone for good.  No culture, no electorate can justly be blamed for our failure to present our teaching as it is: salient, rich, life-giving, and wise enough to have stood the test of two millennia.  Whether it succeeds at the ballot box hinges not on its truth and value, but on the faith, hope and love with which we bear it.

Rocco also notes that "the fact that three of the Church’s high-octane ballot items—stopping embryonic stem-cell research in Missouri, banning most abortions in South Dakota, and sanctioning parental notification in California—went down to defeat should serve as a clarion call that the way our leadership engages questions of faith in public policy is in need of a full and thorough rethinking."  This is probably right.  That said, I would not want (and, I suspect Rocco would not want) the result of this re-thinking to be a conclusion like, "we bishops, although we are shepherds and teachers, should no longer address divisive issues like stem-cell research and abortion, and should not bother reminding Catholics of Church teachings relevant to these matters, but should focus instead on more positive-sounding matters."

Torture

New York Times
November 11, 2006

A Topic in the Air but One That Political Candidates Declined to Touch: Torture of Prisoners

The October issue of Theology Today, a scholarly journal published by the Princeton Theological Seminary, featured a series of articles on torture. “It is a matter of shame,” writes one of the contributors, Jeremy Waldron, a professor of law at New York University, that “we have no choice but to conduct a national debate about torture.”

That debate, Professor Waldron continues, is not about stopping torture by “corrupt and tyrannical regimes” but about whether the American people and the American nation want “to remain part of the international human rights consensus that torture is utterly beyond the pale.”

There were few if any signs of such a debate in the midterm election campaigns. That cannot simply be because of the government’s insistence that the United States abhors torture and does not practice it. The government insists on many things — about the war in Iraq and economic prosperity, for example — that its political opponents do not hesitate to challenge and challenge vociferously.

Torture is different. It is such a stain on personal and national character that nothing but appalling photographs could have forced the subject to the fore. When it comes to pressing the question of official complicity, no stack of equivocating documents can have similar force. In a season of shameless attack ads, torture is still too shameful to be debated.

As for religious reaction, Fleming Rutledge, the Episcopal priest and noted preacher, said in this issue of Theology Today, “In my lifetime, I do not remember any major public question being so studiously ignored as this one.”

The journal articles stem from an effort to change that. They are based on presentations at the founding conference, in Princeton last January, of the National Religious Campaign Against Torture. Prominent religious leaders, Protestant (both mainline and evangelical), Roman Catholic, Eastern Orthodox, Jewish and Muslim, issued a statement, “Torture Is a Moral Issue,” that was a sweet seven sentences in length:

“Torture violates the basic dignity of the human person that all religions, in their highest ideals, hold dear. It degrades everyone involved — policy makers, perpetrators and victims. It contradicts our nation’s most cherished values. Any policies that permit torture and inhumane treatment are shocking and morally intolerable.

“Nothing less is at stake in the torture abuse crisis than the soul of our nation. What does it signify if torture is condemned in word but allowed in deed?

“Let America abolish torture now — without exceptions.”

It is hard to say how much the Theology Today articles add to that succinct statement. In one, William T. Cavanaugh, who teaches theology at the University of St. Thomas in St. Paul, draws on his previous study of torture by the Pinochet government in Chile. His most provocative observations may be that, however counterintuitive, “those who torture tend to think of their work in extremely high moral terms.”

Citing examples from Chile, Professor Cavanaugh notes that “torturers sometimes imagine their acts as a kind of self-sacrifice on their part: ‘What terrible things I must do in order to defend my beloved people!’ ”

What goes for the individual torturer can go for the nation as a whole. “The moral purpose is made more righteous,” Professor Cavanaugh writes, “by the extremity of the act of torture itself.” By definition, “the threat against the nation must be extremely severe if such an extreme procedure as torture is used.”

The argument is strangely circular, but it ends in the conviction, he says, that “only the most morally righteous nation could be trusted with the capacity to use torture for a good purpose.”

In another article, a leading evangelical ethicist, David P. Gushee, a professor of moral philosophy at Union University in Jackson, Tenn., worries that the United States is “succumbing to the temptation to waive moral rules that we have every reason to know are applicable to us.”

“We know that torture is wrong,” Dr. Gushee writes, “but just not now, not in our exceptional case, not in this global war on terror. Yet we are queasy enough, that we do not want to call torture, torture.”

Instead, he continues, “we deny that we are torturing, or we deny that our prisoners are really prisoners, or when pushed to the wall, we remind one another of how evil the enemy is and how much worse other countries or ideologies are.”

“We give every evidence,” he concludes, “of the kind of self-deception so characteristic of the descent into sin.”

Dr. Gushee has not limited his concern to scholarly pages. Last February he wrote an article for the popular evangelical monthly Christianity Today titled “5 Reasons Torture Is Always Wrong.”

All these writers must step carefully around the fact that the president and other American authorities have repeatedly denied that the government tolerates torture — even while they reserve its right to use what are delicately referred to in official parlance as “enhanced” or “alternative” interrogation techniques.

Obviously, these theologians have something less than complete confidence in such official protestations, and one can understand why.

In a White House compromise with a small group of adamant Republicans, last month’s Military Commissions Act, for example, left standing the United States’ commitment to Common Article 3 of the Geneva Conventions protecting prisoners from violence, cruelty, torture and humiliating and degrading treatment.

But while the legislation spelled out certain “grave breaches” of Common Article 3 that would constitute war crimes, it also underlined the president’s power to interpret the nation’s obligations, to define what is grave or not and to screen his definitions from court challenges, and maybe even from public knowledge.

Already, the Central Intelligence Agency has warned that detained Qaeda suspects must not be allowed to disclose their treatment to courts — or perhaps even to their own lawyers — lest other terrorists “adapt their training to counter the tactics that C.I.A. can employ in interrogations.”

Is there any way around this lack of transparency? Here is one idea, admittedly inspired not by sober theological analysis but by political ads.

Let all interrogations be videotaped (interrogating off camera would itself be a “grave breach”). Three years after any interrogation, the video would be made public. One could assume that by that time terrorists would have learned whatever techniques had then been in use.

The important feature, of course, would be the kind of endorsement now required of campaign advertising — a closing shot of the president on screen. “This interrogation was paid for by the American people,” the president would have to say, “and I approve of its methods.”

Women on Corporate Boards: Where is the Difference

I appreciate Susan's reply to my post, and her disagreement with my argument that having more women on corporate boards is more a matter of equity than "difference." At least we do agree that it is at least a matter of equity, if not anything else. I remain unconvinced, however, that having a critical mass of women would mean much of anything to "governance," at least in general. While I've read Carole Gilligan, and am familiar with the theory of "woman's way of knowing," I'm not convinced that such work avoids a type of essentialism that unrealistically discounts the range of individual variation among women. More important, a general assumption that a critical mass of women on a corporate board would mean different or better governance remains unconvincing until someone can posit an explanation for "why" better than a belief or suspicion that it's gotta be that way. To be sure, if we are talking about businesses engaged in the type of activities where women's diifferent experience is of paramount importance -- a health care company, for example, or even a hotel company that employs lots of low-paid female service staff -- then maybe having more women on the board might make a difference (although that would depend on the particular female board member's ideological, class or even racial identities as much as their gender.) But if what we are talking about is how corporate governance in general -- as applicable to all companies -- then I must say that the case is not proven -- indeed, it is not even begun. Of course, my reservations about the business argument do not undercut women's very strong equity claims to greater board representation.

--Mark

The Bloody Question

Back in the days of the ruthless persecution of Catholics in England, particularly in the late-16th century, arrested Catholic priests were often asked the "Bloody Question":  "What would you do if the pope were to send over an army, declare that his only object was to bring the kingdom back to its Catholic allegiance, and use his apostolic authority to command obedience?"  (The point of the question was to upgrade the offense of being Catholic to the crime of being traitor.)

I was reminded of this when I read this article, "God or Country?" -- and some of the commentary that followed -- in a recent issue of Time.  According to the article, "[w]hen asked to choose, 42% of American Christians polled pulled no punches, which raises all sorts of questions in a country built on the separation of church and state."  Actually, it doesn't.  A commitment to the "separation of church and state," properly understood, does not require a believer to subordinate loyalty to "God" to loyalty to "country."

I was very sad, by the way, to learn that, among Catholics, nearly two-thirds of those polled said they are "Americans first" (and not "Catholics first").

Kalscheur, Public Morality, and Judicial Power

Thanks to Michael P. for posting Fr. Greg Kalscheur's new paper on the Lawrence case.  I had a chance to read closely, and comment on, the paper this summer, and thought it was very insightful. 

One thought that I shared with Fr. Kalscheur -- a thought that might serve as a caveat -- is that, in my view, it is important that we distinguish between (a) the criteria we might use to evaluate the justice or wisdom of a law and (b) the criteria we might use to evaluate the soundness of a judicial decision invalidating, on constitutional grounds, a law. 

In my view, the "public morality" standard (and the several other factors Fr. Kalscheur identifies) are indeed quite useful for (a).  That is, like Fr. Kalscheur, I am inclined to think that the law struck down in Lawrence, and laws like it, are unwise, even unjust.  Still, I do not believe this necessarily authorizes their invalidation, on federal constitutional grounds.  It seems to me that Fr. Kalscheur provides us with very good reasons for agreeing, on policy grounds, with the outcome in Lawrence; I'm not sure, though, that this does much to answer those critics who insist that Lawrence was not a justified use of judicial power.  (It is worth noting that Justice Thomas wrote a short opinion in Lawrence that is quite consonant with Fr. Kalscheur's argument but that the paper does not discuss).

A Response to Prof. Kaveny

Professor Kaveny's response did not respond to - and perhaps confirms - what I pointed out about her conduct.  She is behaving hypocritically by engaging in the very behavior for which she condemns others.

During the 2004 campaign, Dean Roche argued in the New York Times that pro-life Catholics could and indeed should vote for John Kerry despite the fact that – in Dean Roche’s words – “History will judge our society's support of abortion in much the same way we view earlier generations' support of torture and slavery - it will be universally condemned.”  Picking up on Roche’s equating abortion with slavery, Professors George and Bradley published a careful, logically rigorous, point-by-point refutation of Dean Roche's claim that pro-life Catholics should vote for John Kerry.  Roche and George/Bradley used argument for their respective positions.  They did not insult their intellectual adversaries.  They did not call them names.  They did not accuse them of being dupes.  They did not resort to caricature.  Both pieces were attempts at persuasive argument.  Since I rarely if ever engage in partisan political discussion on MOJ (if someone wants to know my reasons for this, I’ll be happy to oblige in a separate post), I’ll refrain from saying who I think was more persuasive.  In contrast to Roche and George/Bradley, Professor Kaveny, instead of engaging the arguments of George and Bradley in a scholarly and responsible way, wrote an abusive reply in which she even sank to calling her opponents names – “Rambo Catholics” and “bullies.” She continues to refuse to apologize for her misconduct or even acknowledge it.  The most she is willing to say is that her reply to George and Bradley was "heated." 

Why is this important today, two years later?  Because, in her recent Commonweal article in which she calls for a new civility - a new rhetoric, Kaveny continues to call her now unnamed interlocutors names even as she condemns them (without evidence) of name calling and demonizing.  If Professor Kaveny cannot see that her tactics violate the civil discussion she wants, perhaps it is because, to use her own words, “You can’t argue someone out of a culture war mindset – on either side.”

In an effort to turn the tables on me, she professes to be "saddened that Catholics like Professor Scaperlanda can't see how deeply hurtful" it was to people like her that unnamed "prominent conservative Catholics" were suggesting at the time that voting for pro-abortion candidates was a mortal sin.  This tactic of Professor Kaveny's will not substitute for either (1) an acknowledgment that her reply to George and Bradley was an example of the sort of abusive rhetoric she now condemns, or (2) an argument to show that it wasn't.  Indeed, this "rhetorical strategy," as Professor Kaveny would label it if it were to be used by an intellectual adversary against her, merely compounds her offense.

I hope that readers will go back and read Kaveny’s 2004 response to George and Bradley to judge for themselves whether I have accurately portrayed that response. (Rick has provided links to all the relevant documents)  I also hope that readers will go back and read George and Bradley's critique of Roche so that they will be able to evaluate for themselves the credibility of the following claim by Professor Kaveny:  "I thought then, and continue to think now, that the rhetorical strategy Bradley and George used was not a helpful way to conduct a discussion of complicated issues involving prudential judgment. It shuts down conversation, it doesn't open it up." 

Kaveny goes on to say "I didn't know ­-- and still don't know -- how one can effectively protest what one believes is an attack on one's fundamental integrity as a Catholic."  I have a suggestion for Professor Kaveny. But since this suggestion also applies to me (and all who profess to be Catholics and/or scholars), I will state it in the "I" form.  When I encounter serious arguments by serious scholars with whom I disagree, I should not hurl abuse at them or call them names.  I should try my best to answer their arguments (just as George and Bradley answered the arguments advanced by Mark Roche).  If I can formulate a credible answer, then there is no need for name-calling.  If I can't, perhaps I should consider the possibility that my opponents are right. 

Women on Corporate Boards

The topic of women on corporate boards if one of great interest to me, both as someone who has written on matters of corporate goverenance and as someone who has served on the board of directors of a public company.

My starting point is that there is value to having women being represented on corporate boards of directors, just as there is value in representation on boards by members of racial minorities.  That is, that we should be just as bothered by having corporate boards comprised exclusively or virtually exclusively by white males only, as by having the Supreme Court or the highest positions in other branches of government or the highest positions in the hierarchy of any other institution so comprised.  I'm not sure I think it is just a question of equity, as Mark suggests.  Rather, I tend to agree with Lisa's broad point, based on my experience in various walks of life, including both academic and business, that groups with a critical mass of women are different from groups without such a critical mass.

Whether that difference would translate into "better" corporate governance (a term we haven't defined, as Mark points out) is a different matter.  Based on my limited board experience (serving on the board of one public company, during the first couple of years of which service I was the only woman) and the boards with which I dealt when in legal practice, I don't disagree with Mark that women bring the same professional, business and fiduciary ethos to the position as do men.  However, it is also my (completely nonscientific, anecdotal) sense that there may be issues women are more likely to raise than are men.

One thing I think is beyond dispute is that there are a number of well-qualified women to serve on corporate boards.  The comment of Michael's colleague that women such as academics have experience on some but not all issues that a board may face doesn't seem to me a persuasive one.  That is true of virtually all board members.  When I was on that board (as an academic who in my prior legal practice had handling executive compensation and benefits matters), no other person on the board approached my experience and knowledge in those areas.  So there I brought more to bear in our discussions, whereas on other matters, other board members were more knowledgable.  The pool of qualified candidates is there.

Dialogue, Public Life, and Compromise

In this post-election season, I have reflected on some of the previous posts as well as various goings on in the political world of public life in the United States. I am sincerely grateful for the various exchanges, sometimes passionate, about Catholics and their participation in public life that have recently appeared in MOJ. I recognize the importance of discussion and debate. These are crucial to public life.

However, there are times—especially in political life—where the debate and discussion lead to the need to make decisions about public life. Often times this means that there will likely be a compromise. I am not adverse to compromise—on some issues. For example, I might be able to compromise on the minimum wage. If it were ever to be introduced in public debate, I might be able to make a compromise on whether a particular sum of money is a “family wage.” I could probably enter compromises on tax matters that involve national debt. But there are some issues in our public life on which compromise eviscerates the very thing being discussed. I find this true in “debates” on some of the most pressing issues of our time when they deal with human life. When the right to life becomes subject to compromise, political and otherwise, then anything else we may hold dear is in peril.  RJA sj