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, May 8, 2012

Benedict XVI on Catholic Education

The Pope took up the topic of Catholic education in his ad limina address to the bishops of Colorado, New Mexico and Wyoming on Saturday. Here's an excerpt:

[T]he question of Catholic identity, not least at the university level, entails much more than the teaching of religion or the mere presence of a chaplaincy on campus. All too often, it seems, Catholic schools and colleges have failed to challenge students to reappropriate their faith as part of the exciting intellectual discoveries which mark the experience of higher education. The fact that so many new students find themselves dissociated from the family, school and community support systems that previously facilitated the transmission of the faith should continually spur Catholic institutions of learning to create new and effective networks of support. In every aspect of their education, students need to be encouraged to articulate a vision of the harmony of faith and reason capable of guiding a life-long pursuit of knowledge and virtue. As ever, an essential role in this process is played by teachers who inspire others by their evident love of Christ, their witness of sound devotion and their commitment to that sapientia Christiana which integrates faith and life, intellectual passion and reverence for the splendor of truth both human and divine.

In effect, faith by its very nature demands a constant and all-embracing conversion to the fullness of truth revealed in Christ. He is the creative Logos, in whom all things were made and in whom all reality "holds together" (Col 1:17); he is the new Adam who reveals the ultimate truth about man and the world in which we live. In a period of great cultural change and societal displacement not unlike our own, Augustine pointed to this intrinsic connection between faith and the human intellectual enterprise by appealing to Plato, who held, he says, that "to love wisdom is to love God" (cf. De Civitate Dei, VIII, 8). The Christian commitment to learning, which gave birth to the medieval universities, was based upon this conviction that the one God, as the source of all truth and goodness, is likewise the source of the intellect’s passionate desire to know and the will’s yearning for fulfilment in love.

Only in this light can we appreciate the distinctive contribution of Catholic education, which engages in a "diakonia of truth" inspired by an intellectual charity which knows that leading others to the truth is ultimately an act of love (cf. Address to Catholic Educators, Washington, 17 April 2008). Faith’s recognition of the essential unity of all knowledge provides a bulwark against the alienation and fragmentation which occurs when the use of reason is detached from the pursuit of truth and virtue; in this sense, Catholic institutions have a specific role to play in helping to overcome the crisis of universities today. Firmly grounded in this vision of the intrinsic interplay of faith, reason and the pursuit of human excellence, every Christian intellectual and all the Church’s educational institutions must be convinced, and desirous of convincing others, that no aspect of reality remains alien to, or untouched by, the mystery of the redemption and the Risen Lord’s dominion over all creation.

The Anchoress on Rep. Ryan and his Catholic critics

[Insert here all the necessary caveats about how there are, of course, plenty of reasonable and productive debates and discussions one could have about (i) the nature of the challenges facing our economy, broadly speaking; (ii) the extent to which Rep. Ryan's proposals respond well to those challenges; and (iii) what the Church's social teaching has to say about what counts as responding "well" to them.  That said . . .]

The Anchoress's reaction to the Colbert & Fr. Reese bit, and to the criticism from (some) Catholic liberals (see, e.g., the Georgetown faculty letter), is pretty much the same as my own.  There's an unattractive combination, in some of these reactions, of dismissiveness and smugness, but also anger, at the very idea that Rep. Ryan could be talking about his "savage" (etc., etc.) budget as reflecting an effort to work out, in contemporary conditions, the call and challenge of the Church's social teaching.  Sure, we all know (thanks to Rob Vischer and others!) that "subsidiarity" is about more than devolution and that -- in Russ Hittinger's words -- the point of "subsidiarity is a normative structure of plural social forms, not necessarily a trickling down of power or aid," but Rep. Ryan would hardly be the first lay person in public life to over-simplify a principle of Catholic social thought in a (good faith) effort to apply it.

Now, as the President likes to say, "let me be clear":  I am not endorsing all the details of the Ryan, or any other proposal.  (Simpson-Bowles looked good to me, I admit, but what do I know?) I do think, though, as I've said here at MOJ (too) often, that it's lame for politicians to lob charges of "savagery" while (unlawfully) sitting on their hands and doing nothing.  Rep. Ryan is inviting us to think about our pressing obligations in terms of ideas that he connects publicly (and plausibly) with the Church's social teaching.  This is, it seems to me, a good thing.

UPDATE:  Here is Ryan Anderson, discussing the same subject:

House Budget Committee chairman Paul Ryan (R–WI) is being criticized by the secular and religious left for comments he made about the role his Catholic faith played in crafting his budget. The most outrageous criticism is that it played any role at all.

The reactions to Ryan’s comments should call to mind three important things: (1) religious values should be welcomed in the public square, (2) not all religious values are based on divine revelation, and (3) translating moral principles into policy requires both prudence and technical expertise. . . .

. . .

Ryan’s proposed budget makes prudential and technical decisions when it comes to translating his moral principles into public policy. There are certainly other, perhaps even better, instantiations. But to characterize Ryan’s budget as a “punishing and heartless assault on Americans” and to claim that he “hates government” is to engage in some of the worst forms of demagoguery, and it is especially pernicious when religion is involved.

If theologians disagree with Ryan’s policies, they might hesitate before asserting that he rejects religious principle and instead seek to understand the prudential considerations that motivated his judgments. Much of the dispute lies not over how best to understand the principle of subsidiarity but on whether current federal entitlement spending is sustainable and whether the programs they fund are effective. It is disagreement about this issue that separates Ryan from his religious critics. . .

[Before you object in the comments, please re-read the first few sentences of this post, above.]

Monday, May 7, 2012

supplement to Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought published

Along with Michael Coulter, Steve Krason, and Joe Varacalli, I had the privilege of co-editing the Encyclopedia of Catholic Social Thought, Social Science, and Social Policy (2007). The original 2 volumes contained over 800 entries (typically 1,000-2,000 words in length) on a variety of topics related to Catholic Social Thought.

I thought I'd ask for indulgence in announcing the publication of volume 3. See for the Amazon link. See for the publisher's link (the volumes have been published by Scarecrow Press, a division of Rowman & Littlefield). The 3rd volume contains over 200 entries from over 100 contributors.

The contributors to the 3rd volume include from MOJ Fr. Araujo SJ, Robby George, Kevin Lee, Lisa Schiltz, and Amy Uelmen. Other contributors include Father John Coughlin OFM, Bob Fastiggi, Father Kevin Flannery SJ, Luke Gormally, David Gregory, Tom Kohler, Father Joseph Koterski SJ, Mark Latkovic, William May, Robert Moynihan, Michael Novak, DQ McInerny, Maurizio Ragazzi, Ron Rychlak, and Lee Strang.

The 3rd volume includes entries of varying types. First, the volume includes entries that explore Catholic social thought at its broadest, most theoretical level; for example, an entry on Pope Benedict’s important social encyclical Caritas in Veritate. Second, the volume includes entries that discuss recent social science research that bears on issues important to Catholic social thought; for example, an entry on the social costs of pornography draws on recent research on the topic. Third, the volume includes entries discussing specific issues of social policy that have become increasingly important in recent years; for example, an entry on embryo adoption and/or rescue.

I encourage readers to take a look at this new volume (the Amazon link includes the first 19 pages, the index to volume 3, and the full list of entries and contributors to all 3 volumes) and if you are so inclined to ask your library to purchase a copy.

Richard M.

"You, me, and everybody else"

Some thoughts about social networks, friendship, and community from a student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" class:

You, Me, and Everyone We Know

 It is worth noting that Facebook disclosed yesterday (May 3) an IPO target price that pegs the company’s worth at $96B.  If the numbers hold, this would make Facebook the most valuable company at the time of its IPO in U.S. history, eclipsing the former record holder (UPS in 1996) by some $36B.   According to a CIO Journal article, this figure suggests that every user is worth about $81 to Facebook.  Every friendship is worth $0.62.  And the average profile page may be worth up to $1800.  The story is well-known.  Roughly eight years ago, a jilted lover started a website, and Tuesday’s target valuation makes the erstwhile Romeo, Mr. Zuckerberg, worth more than the entire annual economic output of a host of countries.

 I am 28 years old, but decades older—if my old man* counts as a relevant measure—when it comes to being a buzzkill about online social networks (but I love blogs).  Full disclosure, I have certainly been known throughout my law school career to fill my computer screen with GCHATS rather than Securities Regulation notes, but that—I think most will agree—is nothing more than a classic case of opting for a lesser evil. 

By now it’s a familiar refrain about technology, but I like the real thing better.  Friendship, I mean.  Of course, I understand the value of photo-sharing and keeping in touch with those far distant, and all the other rationalizations made in favor of spending a couple of brainless hours every day tending to one’s online image.  But give me a garden rather than Farmville, a bottle of wine and a few good friends rather than a photo captioned “Wish you were here,” or when necessary, just a quiet night free from the intrusive and distracting technologies that can imperil true leisure.   I wish I could say that it was discipline and self-restraint that counseled my own departure from Facebook, but in fact it was kind of the opposite.  A nasty break-up, and I found I couldn’t handle the online fallout, the access, the tempting, open window on a life of which I was no longer a meaningful part.  So, I quit.  And I liked it.  But that’s just the thing: the self-restraint and discipline I lacked—extraordinary and rare traits in my experience—may be necessary to dilute the corrosive effects to community posed by these nascent, virtual replications. It would be a joke worthy of Orwell (who, by the way, didn’t tell a lot of jokes) if the blokes who set out to create an online community ended up ruining the genuine thing and got paid a packet to do it.

So, okay, maybe it’s not quite as bad as all that.  But the big numbers, when you think about what it is exactly that is being valued, should at least give us pause and the opportunity to consider possible ramifications for the Catholic idea of community, for the families that form the vital cells of those communities, and for the body of Christ. 

Finding God in all things . . . for lawyers

A student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" class shared these thoughts about Ignatian discernment and conscience-examination:

Nowadays it is extraordinary difficult to be a Catholic that live his/her faith in a daily effort to listen and obey God’s will.

We are normally submerged in a routine full of movement, noises and distractions that make it very complicated for us to hear and feel God during the day; then, when we arrive home we are so tired of the work that we don't want to dedicate time to something that will require an effort, like prayer.

Days and weeks pass with the same usual schedule and after some time we have forgotten how to give Jesus part of our time besides going to Mass on Sundays.

I will like to share my personal experience related to this situation; I’ve studied with the Jesuits since elementary through law school and I’ve learned that one of the things that was most important to St. Ignatius is to understand that “one can find God in all things because all things descend from God and speak of God”; this idea of Ignatius leads us to search and feel God in all the things in our daily life.

When I was younger this was not so difficult to do.  Being constantly surrounded by teachers and communities that were involved in social apostolates I could sense the presence of God in my life frequently. Yet, when I started to have a busier life I discovered that in order to find God in all things someone has to actually make the effort of looking for Him.

The exam of conscience proposed by St. Ignatius is a delightful tool for do this effort and it is a realistic option in the busy world of these days: every night one must take a time –alone, quiet, peaceful- to examinee the day and find the moments in which God’s presence was stronger; recognizing these moments we will start learning the things in our lives in which God is more and more present.

It takes will and discipline to introduce the exam of conscience in our daily agenda, but the fruits of doing it are precious. The exam will become a privileged moment with Jesus and savoring it will bring us closer to the openness we need to truly find God in all things.

"Consent, Consequences, and Christian Law Schools"

[From a student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" seminar]:

On Consent, Consequences, and Christian Law Schools

In our culture, consent is the paramount moral criterion: the presence of consent is the ultimate blessing, while the lack thereof is the ultimate curse. This is readily seen in the way we think about the consequences of our actions. We believe that we should have free reign to act according to our whims and fancies (or deep principles and convictions, if you swing that way), and that any results of those actions can and should affect us only if we first consented to those costs. We certainly don’t think we should have to suffer the consequence of any unintended or unforeseen consequences—after all we didn’t consent to it, and thus it must not be our fault. And we definitely don’t think we should have to do so for someone else’s actions.  We shun commitment because we fear that we won’t get to do what we want down the road; we are unwilling to pay the costs of what we believe in. Our culture likes to deny that principles and beliefs require consistent actions, and that actions have actual consequences. Our culture thus effectively denies the existence of natural consequences in favor of contractual costs.

But Christians don’t believe that. The Christian does not deny the existence of sin’s consequences; he affirms that all those consequences have already been paid by Christ. At the foundation of the Christian faith is the belief that we are sinful beings, but that the consequences of such sin were borne by Jesus Christ: “for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith.” (Rom. 3:23-25) Actions have consequences, whether we like it or not, and someone must pay the price—even if we didn’t know the full price.

Now you may think that I am about to say how important it is to hold people morally accountable and how significant it is that we have a justice system which holds individuals responsible for their actions. And, in fact, that is certainly a significant aspect to the idea of actions and their consequences. But I think there is another aspect: our commitment to our principles may require us to bear more burdens and make more sacrifices than we had initially thought as consequences of our convictions. The idea that consent is crucial to the moral legitimacy of any given consequence is often introduced and cemented in post-secondary educational institutions; therefore the refutation that consent is not necessary for a morally legitimate consequence may and should also be introduced at that time.

Christian educational institutions, then, have a significant part to play in the formation of their students: in the midst of our cultural denial of consequences the Christian has an intimate understanding that consequences are real and their existence is not contingent on our consent. Christian law schools in particular have a unique role to play in training their students that in a discipline and field which places so much emphasis on contractual agreement—from the “social contract” to apartment leases—it is incumbent on the Christian lawyer to recognize that unintended and unforeseen consequences must and should be paid even if they have not been agreed on.

Lawyers, though, are entirely willing to tell others that costs must be paid; it is entirely another matter to apply that to themselves. Thus, the Christian law school faces another duty: to teach students that their faith, their convictions, and their principles will require them to make sacrifices. In a professional field which tends to measure success in terms of status (and the accompanying symbols), power, wealth, and creature comforts, students need to be willing to give them up as called in the course of living a life pleasing and glorifying to God. Professor John Breen encouraged the law students of Loyola University Chicago that “[t]he way our Christian faith defines success and the sign that represents it are radically different form the understanding of success prevalent in American society. According to the faith, success is to act with love in the imitation of Christ, and the sign that quite literally embodies this love is the Cross.” Christian law students are to be lawyers, to be sure, but they are also called to obedient to the living God with whom they have a relationship: “He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord desire of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?” (Mic. 6:8)

Of course, our law schools can make that unique character of the vocation easier or harder, and they can make their message more or less efficacious. One thing our Christian law schools might want to consider is that it may be difficult for students to accept a new hierarchy of what is worthy if the school itself does not follow its own teaching. For example, can students really take seriously the Christian message that worldly status is unimportant, if their school is unwilling to take risks to conform its students to the image of Christ for the sake of a U.S. News & World Report ranking?

The world we live in has natural consequences for our actions, quite independent of our consent to their existence. The reality of unintended consequences which must still be paid seems at odds with the legal preference for the “four corners of the contract,” but it is therefore that much more important for Christian lawyers to recognize and bear witness to in their vocation, from crafting policy to sitting on a judicial bench to advising clients. It is incumbent on the Christian lawyer to be mindful of how grace and mercy relate to justice and righteousness within the context of the rule of law. And it is the duty of Christian law schools to instill those values and convictions in their students not only through their teaching, but also through their example.

The "Cuomo argument," revisited

Some thoughts about the role of religious faith, believers, and claims in policy and political debates, from a student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" class:

Inspired by the public debate that arose most recently during the Republican primary concerning whether and to what extent politicians should rely on their religious convictions when making policy decision (see Santorum’s comments on JFK’s speech and ensuing hoopla), I decided to write a short-paper on Catholic politicians’ support of abortion rights—specifically, the assertion that a Catholic can justifiably be “pro-life” in private while pro-choice when acting in the public sphere. This led me to Mario Cuomo’s famous speech at Notre Dame from 1984, which I decided to critique. One of his core arguments to justify his position was that the Church  does not demand particular “political” strategies to achieving its public morality goals. As Cuomo explains: “I repeat, there is no Church teaching that mandates the best political course for making our belief everyone’s rule.” Thus, a Catholic politician can be justified in refusing to force his beliefs on others since there are other issues related to the protection of life that are equally viable political tactics to realize this principle that all life has intrinsic value.

Yet this argument misses a critical doctrinal distinction between the roles of the Church (in not providing political strategies) and that of the laity.  Cuomo fails to appreciate the distinction between the Church, which has the role to participate through education and example in the shaping of the moral values of society, and the laity, who have the “corresponding moral responsibility…to hear, receive, and act upon the Church’s teaching in the lifelong task of forming his or her own conscience.”   Thus the Church can and should be very reluctant to advocate for specific policies to achieve its goals, but the laity have the moral responsibility to take the Church’s teachings and apply them in their actions, both public and private. What Cuomo is dismissing as a particular “political course” for anti-abortion supporters is actually a tangible obligation, which flows from a principle claim that all life, from the moment of conception, has inherent human dignity and cannot be intentionally destroyed by man. 

 

What is the Purpose of the Natural Law?

Some thoughts -- about a pretty big question! -- from a student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" seminar:

“The Church’s social teaching argues on the basis of reason and natural law” (Pope

Benedict XVI, Deus Caritas Est).

 

Catholic Social Thought relies heavily on the natural law as a source of authority outside revealed theology. The natural law is “written on the heart” of all people; therefore normative statements by the Church on social issues may be accepted as true or right simply through the exercise of reason, without accepting the Scriptural authority of the Church through Faith. The natural law is a valuable foundation for moral reasoning, where Christians and unbelievers can meet and build agreement.

But does the natural law “work”? Does the natural law provide a stable foundation for moral agreement? Unfortunately, a quick look at natural law scholarship reveals a MacIntyrian post-Enlightenment landscape: disagreement abounds. “New” natural law scholars battle “Classical” natural law thinkers and any attempts to specify moral precepts break down into disagreement just outside the second half of the Decalogue. And all of this disagreement exists within the natural law tradition, among allies. Perhaps we can at least agree that we disagree?

In the face of all this disagreement, one may be tempted to say, “so what”? People always disagree about ultimate questions of right and wrong, good and bad. But Alasdair MacIntyre reminds us that, because of the premises of natural law reasoning, deep disagreement in practice creates real intellectual problems: “if the precepts of the natural law are indeed precepts established by reason, we should expect to find agreement in assenting to them among rational agents. But this is not what we find, . . . [m]any intelligent, perceptive, and insightful agents either reject what Catholics take to be particular precepts of the natural law or accept them only in some very different version, or, more radically still, reject the very conception of a natural law. And these disagreements seem to be intractable. How can this be?”

Perhaps the natural law has a proper use, and we have missed it. If the natural law does not exist to create agreement among reasonable minds on the requirements of morality for human action, then we should not be surprised when it does not.

But what is the purpose of the natural law? I believe the natural law exists to convict the sinful human heart. We can see this purpose in St. Paul’s letter to the Romans. Catholic Social Thought often quotes Romans chapter 2 for the proposition that “the law is written on the heart,” but Paul says much more about this law:  “Now we know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God. For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin.” (Romans 3:19-20).

 “Through the law comes knowledge of sin.” The Apostle Paul certainly “uses” natural law, but not to reach agreement on social policy. The Apostle Paul uses the natural law to demonstrate that we know right, yet do wrong. The standard is high and we fall short. He uses the natural law for eternal purposes, to crush any faith we may have built up in ourselves, so our faith may find rest in Christ.  Is this the purpose of natural law? Can the natural law be used as a common foundation for moral reasoning, when no one lives up to the full extent of the law?

Can we expect people to consent to the rule of natural law, as a basis for State enforced social policy, when serious contemplation of the natural law illuminates our shortcomings? Or should we focus on pushing the sharp conviction of the law upon the human heart, so hard hearts are plowed, and the ground is made fertile for seeds of grace?

Catholic universities (still) matter

Some thoughts on the continuing importance (and responsibility) of Catholic universities from a student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" seminar:

As much as some seem to be put off by the constant back and forth on various controversial issues at Catholic universities, and particularly at Notre Dame, I find it very reassuring.

On the one hand, after spending the bulk of my post-secondary education years in a state school it is refreshing to see that there are people within the institution on both sides of controversial issues who feel both impelled and empowered to speak out.  It makes me realize that dialogue and the search for ultimate truth is still alive somewhere in academia.

On the other hand, and perhaps more importantly, it demonstrates that people recognize that the Catholic university still has an important and influential teaching role well beyond its confines.  No one cares in particular who “Generic State University” invites to give an address, but the entire internet erupts in a frenzy when Obama or Ryan are invited to speak at a Catholic university.  If Ms. Fluke went to a state school—or anywhere but a school publicly recognized as Catholic—you can bet no one would have raised an eyebrow over her testimony regarding the HHS Mandate.  I wager she would not have even been invited to testify before Congress.

 The fact that many still rage over the state of the Catholic university’s soul makes me believe that there is a great opportunity to be had for the authentic Catholic university:  It must serve as a lamp of the truths of both faith and reason in stark contradiction to the darkness of the world about it.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

The University as the Classroom of Life

At the outset of this posting, I thank Lisa for her thoughtful postings giving MOJ contributors and readers news about the Religiously Affiliated Law Schools biennial conference just concluded at the Touro Law. I hope in the context of this posting to offer several of the thoughts I presented on Friday morning at the final session dedicated to ethics and bringing religion into the classroom. I also thank Robby and Patrick for their postings of today and yesterday, for their respective thoughts have a bearing on what I shall attempt to address today, viz., the university as the classroom of human life.

Today’s world of higher education in the United States—and perhaps most of the rest of the world—is geared to success. Now, there is nothing wrong with that per se depending on how the word success is defined, understood, and sought. There is evidence, however, that success means personal success with little regard for the welfare of others. It is not that this concept of success is directed to destroying, marginalizing, or reducing others, but it is not really designed to take stock of others and how the positions and needs of others relate to the subject. In spite of the ever-present rhetoric of “diversity” and “pluralism,” these and other buzzwords that frequent and are typical of the vocabulary of the academy of today are a disguise for a particular way of thinking that is designed to “empower” (another axiom of the contemporary academy) the individual. What the objective of this “empowerment” is usually is unclear. If one is empowered, what is it that one is to do other than whatever it is that one likes to do?

While public service is often heralded and promoted in “service learning” that has become another feature of contemporary education, the nature and extent of what constitutes public service is often determined by the autonomous individual (usually director who has some kind of “expertise”) who has been empowered, through leading and living “an extraordinary life,” to decide what the public needs regardless of whether this is beneficial or detrimental to the common good.

What is missing from all of these shaping factors of the “good education” are crucial elements of Catholic social thought whose benefits are not restricted to Catholic thinking and institutions: (1) the inviolability of the human dignity that belongs to everyone; (2) the common good as defined by the inextricable connection of the righteous life well-lived by everyone (and I do mean everyone) in cooperation with the destiny of everyone to do the same; (3) the idea of solidarity which underscores the common good; and (4) the cultivation of the cardinal virtues of justice, fortitude or courage, prudence, and temperance or forbearance. Unfortunately, too many members of the mainstream contemporary academy respond to these elements as I have proposed them as old fashioned. The fact that these elements also undergird much of the development of western law and legal theory is oft forgotten in most law school—to say nothing of undergraduate—education of the present day.

I suggest that a fundamental problem that challenges education today, regardless of the level and the subject matter, is the way in which thinking is encouraged and directed. The method of objective and authentically critical reasoning that has been indispensable to legal thinking in the past is being pushed aside by the subjective methodology endorsed by the “mystery of life” passage from Casey v. Planned Parenthood and largely endorsed in the larger view that education must be tailored for the “unique mind.”

In the context of the law and legal education, the objective that the “is” of the current moment is preferred to the “ought” of universal truth can then lead to the further subjective approach which confuses the “ought” with the “is.” For the subjective mind, the “is” becomes the only reality with which any person need be concerned. This subjective reality, moreover, is not the objective reality that must be sought, understood, and comprehended; but, this does not matter because the emphasis of education founded on autonomy and “empowerment” and little else will spend little if any time searching for something which may well be not only objective reality but also objective truth.

While thinking is pertinent to all disciplines, it is crucial to legal reasoning. The method of thinking critical to the law needs to be objective, and it must be formed by two important factors. The first is that the human being is an intelligent being. The second follows: human intelligence is capable of comprehending the intelligible reality that surrounds us which then leads to wise, prudent, and just decision-making. This does not mean that a perfect understanding will necessarily result nor will the best decision follow, but it does mean that the understanding that follows will be objective thereby getting the society involved closer to the truth of the matter and justice that is required.

I think that there is another problem about subjectivity that is deleterious to the education process but which is typically used today as the standard for determining who teaches and who speaks at institutions of higher learning in the present age. While there are many ways of explaining this standard (such as “liberal,” “progressive,” “contemporary,” etc.), it seems to follow whatever currency is strongest in the contemporary culture. So when contemporary culture endorses certain views regarding important matters that deal with human sexuality, the meaning of human existence, and the authentic nature of the human person, any view that does not correspond to the standard of the contemporary culture is either dismissed as irrelevant or branded as madness.

One more problem is the collaborative approach to education so frequently encountered today in educational institutions of many levels. I hasten to add that collaboration is important in human existence and must therefore be learned and perfected, for collaboration is necessary for achieving the common good. However, collaboration has largely come to mean in educational contexts the need to arrive at a consensus. Since the dominant milieu in the university of the current age is one that holds and promotes the view that all positions are equally meritorious (even though they are not), collaboration is the name given to determining what the lowest common denominator is in order to reach a conclusion and decision. When this is the reality of collaboration, then the ability to recognize and foster the truth, the beautiful, and the good is often the unknown victim of the sacrifice necessary for collaboration, that is, consensus, to be the goal.

RJA sj