My "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" student, Joe Callaghan, shares these thoughts:
Does Catholic social teaching offer ideas and values that might find broad-based acceptance? Yes. And no. Yes in that the final product of Catholic social teaching is often appealing to adherents to other value systems. No in that, to a non-Catholic, to theoretically underpin a policy on ideas like “God’s love” or “Truth” or “human dignity” or “solidarity” rings a bit hollow. Take, for instance, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Everyone was able to agree on the fundamental rights of human beings, but I cannot imagine that the process through which the Canadian delegate and the delegate from the USSR arrived at provision of time off from work for periodic holidays and leisure time was at all comparable. At some point (nicely illustrated in Jacques Maritain’s description of the problem posed by the rate at which the commons of society is being filled with rights), some “old right” will come into direct conflict, direct as in litigation-worthy, with a “new right” and lawmakers will have to articulate why the new right is superior or more compelling or more aligned with the statutory scheme or more reconcilable with the Constitution than the “old right.” Eventually, we’ll reach a terminal arrangement of rights and this town will be too small for the both of the two supposedly-absolute rights. What happens then? What happens when Catholic social teaching is the sole distinguishing consideration weighing in favor of one of the rights and you are advocating for that right among non-Catholics? Can you invoke objective Truth as revealed in Creation? Can you cite to the perfect model of love in the Trinity? Is it disingenuous to form your opinion on a legal matter based on your reflection on Catholic social doctrine and then to present an argument based on stare decisis or compelling state interest or some other principle? It seems like I’d have a tough time arguing human dignity by virtue of the imago dei when I know that no one else in the room buys it. And it seems less than honest to argue something other than my true conviction. So, I think that the policy ends reached by Catholic social teaching surely offer ideas and values that might find broad-based acceptance. But, I’m not sure that a full explanation of the reasons that we arrived at certain policy ends wouldn’t convince would-be supporters to turn and run the other way.
Below, Lisa Schiltz offers a brief recap of the Religiously Affiliated Law Schools conference that began yesterday and is continuing today. Though I did not attend the conference, and so did not hear the exchange that she describes, this statement about a claim by Professor Michael Broyde caught my eye:
Michael Broyde from the Center for the Study of Law and Religion at Emory sparked some friendly fireworks with his provocative claim that law and religion institutes at religiously-affiliated schools are necessarily compromised in their ability to engage in an intellectually honest pursuit of truth[.]
The idea of a scholar, or a scholarly center, being "compromised" because of the religious affiliation of the home institution is an interesting one and I want to explore it here. Because I did not hear Professor Broyde myself, I will rely on Lisa's report of his remarks -- more to think through some of these issues than to attack anything he said specifically.
I can think of three ways in which an academic institution or the scholar working in it may be "compromised" in the "intellectually honest pursuit of truth" by a religious affiliation. Let's take them one at a time.
First, an academic institution may put explicit pressure on scholars to pursue or not to pursue certain avenues of intellectual inquiry, or to reach (or not to reach) certain preordained conclusions. The institution could stifle and suppress certain kinds of research, or demand others. And in this way, it would "compromise" its scholars, and the scholars would "compromise" themselves by acquiescing in its demands. In the past, this sort of "compromise" may have occurred with respect to law and religion scholarship at various secular legal institutions, for example, in which work in the field was expressly discouraged and disdained. That obviously is not the case at Emory, where the superb Center for the Study of Law and Religion directed by John Witte is flourishing. I would be very surprised if Professor Broyde meant this first sort of "compromise" when he made his remarks. If he did, I certainly can see how that would be a troubling phenomenon, but he and I must attend and participate in very different sorts of conferences. I do not believe that I have ever attended a conference in which this sort of "compromise" was in evidence.
Second, one might think that a religiously affiliated institution is "compromised" and somehow less than fully "intellectually honest" because it has a general interest in a particular field of inquiry. Sometimes one sees this referred to as part of the school's "mission" but it could also be described in different and milder terms as simply an important subject for the school -- part of the school's institutional identity, so to speak. This second meaning of "compromised" seems to me to rob it of its pejorative connotation, as well as to dissociate it from an inability to pursue "truth" in an "intellectually honest" fashion. Some schools have particular methodological interests -- in law and economics, for example, or empirical methods. Some are committed to various socially ameliorative causes. Some focus especially and have developed particular expertise in an individual subject -- environmental law, for example, or international law. And some are committed to inquiry about and engagement with religious traditions of various sorts. The sociologist Talcott Parsons (about whom no one would allege any pejorative intellectual compromise) had this to say about the freedom of academic institutions to speak out about matters of special interest to themselves and their educational identity: "Corporate positions are justified . . . where the interests of the educational institution, the academic system, or relevant sectors of them are at stake . . . ." (See his very interesting 1968 piece, "The Academic System: A Sociologist's View"). Care must be taken to distinguish the first and second meaning of "compromise" so that the second does not shade into the first, of course. But as a general matter, a scholar or an institute within a larger academic institution with a religious affiliation and/or commitment is not pejoratively "compromised" simply in virtue of the religious association.
The third possible meaning of "compromised" in this context is the most interesting, and also the most confused. The idea here is that religious affiliation as to the individual scholar is itself "compromising" -- itself an impediment to intellectual honesty -- but only, or especially, when that scholar works at a religiously affiliated institution. The position assumes that there is some collection of properties which conduces to intellectual honesty, and institutional religious affiliation is not one of these properties. A deeply felt religious commitment is in itself a complicated affair when it comes to individual scholarly inquiry, but when it exists within an institution which also has a religious affiliation, it becomes more probable that the commitment will become "compromising."
It is true that all of us are influenced in our scholarship by our commitments, our "prejudices," in Burkean terms. And that's as true for those of us, and of our institutions, with religious affiliations as for those without them. Yet it would be odd, and unfair, to claim that those without such affiliations and commitments are "compromised" or somehow intellectually disabled or incapable of "honest" scholarly work. I daresay one would never hear such a claim today, and rightly so. Worthwhile and interesting scholarly work comes in many guises, but it never stands above or somehow outside of prejudice, partial influence, and commitment. The most interesting scholarly work is neck-deep in it. In this third sense, the "intellectually honest pursuit of truth" is not hampered by "compromise." It depends on "compromise" -- the compromise that comes from unique individual and institutional perspective as we do our best to find our way.
George Will wrote a lovely column today in celebration of the 40th birthday of his son, Jon, who has Down's Syndrome: http://www.startribune.com/opinion/commentaries/149923645.html .
He includes this reflection: "Judging by Jon, the world would be improved by more people with Down syndrome, who are quite nice, as humans go. It is said we are all born brave, trusting and greedy, and remain greedy.
People with Down syndrome must remain brave in order to navigate society's complexities. They have no choice but to be trusting because, with limited understanding, and limited abilities to communicate misunderstanding, they, like Blanche DuBois in "A Streetcar Named Desire," always depend on the kindness of strangers."
I've often observed those two traits -- astonishing bravery, and complete and utter trust -- in my son (who also has Down Syndrome). My husband and I often marvel at the heroic bravery Pete displays every single day, navigating with joy a world in which so much that we take for granted -- like why his mom disappears for three days to go to a conference -- must seem so arbitrary and senseless. But I have a theory about that trusting nature that George Will sees as something that is thrust upon people with Down Syndrome as a result of their limited cognitive abilities. I think that Pete has the gift of living with utter confidence that the people he encounters in the world love him. Though that is, of course, sadly not always the case, I still call this a gift, because I think it stems from Pete's absolute, unshakable conviction that he is loved by God. And that's something those of us without diagnosed cognitive limitations seem to have so much trouble understanding, no matter how many times, and in how many ways, God keeps telling us that it is so.
I've just spent a thoroughly enjoyable and stimulating day enjoying the abundant hospitality of Touro Law Center, which is hosting the 2012 Conference of Religously Affiliated law Schools. The organizer, Sam Levine, has done spectacular job in assembling a diverse set of perspectives on the topic: "The Place of Religion in the Law School, The University, and the Practice of Law." You can see the entire schedule here: http://www.tourolaw.edu/pdf/RALS_Program_Layout%201.pdf . (Sorry, but I can't figure out how to do hyperlinks from my i-pad, and I already managed to lose the text of this post twice while trying to get it posted.)
Yesterday evening, we heard from a panel of presidents (past and present) of religiously-affiliated colleges. Today, we began with two panels on the role of Law and Religion Institutes in the law school and the university. In my remarks about the Murphy Institute, I focused the role such institutes can play in fostering interdisciplinary engagement on legal questions, to help the university achieve something closer to John Henry Newman's ideal of the university as "a place of teaching universal knowledge." Michael Broyde from the Center for the Study of Law and Religion at Emory sparked some friendly fireworks with his provocative claim that law and religion institutes at religiously-affiliated schools are necessarily compromised in their ability to engage in an intellectually honest pursuit of truth, a claim that (as you would expect in this RALS crowd) engendered lively debate.
We were then privileged by a luncheon talk by Nate Lewin, who shared some extraordinary behind-the-scenes war stories about some of the significant religious liberty cases he has litigated over the years. After sharing a beautiful Mincha -- the Jewish afternoon prayer service -- a panel of public servants -- judges, the District Attorney of Brooklyn, the director of St. John's Vincentian Center for Church and Society, and the Director of Pepperdine's Special Education Clinic -- provided a fascinating array of perspectives on the role of faith in the lives of service they have chose. And if those weren't enough different perspectives, dinner included a historical perspective -- Chief Judge Loretta Preska (USDJ, SDNY) spoke about the 1657 Flushing Remonstrance, the petition by a group of Englishmen to Peter Stuyvesant, arguing against a decree forbidding Quaker worship; it'sconsidered to be our first articulation of the right to religious freedom.
Tomorrow brings another full morning of panels focusing on the place of religion in the teaching and practice of law.
Kudos to Sam Levine for pulling together such an excellent conference, and thanks to Touro's Dean Raful for Touro Law School's generous support of such an important conversation!
New York has become the first state to require lawyers to perform pro bono work as a condition of bar admission:
The approximately 10,000 lawyers who apply to the New York State Bar each year will have to demonstrate that they have performed 50 hours of pro bono work to be admitted, Chief Judge Jonathan Lippman said. He said the move was intended to provide about a half-million hours of badly needed legal services to those with urgent problems, like foreclosure and domestic violence.
I appreciate the intent behind this new rule, though I fear that it might lead to needy clients having to rely on lawyers who don't really want to help them and don't have the competence to do so effectively. Further, a new law school graduate struggling with debt and unable to find paying work may wonder why lawyers bear a burden that other professions do not. This is one of the reasons why our 50-hour public service graduation requirement at St. Thomas is not limited to legal work: we are not obliged to help our neighbor because we're lawyers, but because we are all children of God.
The Oklahoma Supreme Court has unanimously held that a proposed "personhood amendment," defining a person as "any human being from the beginning of the biological development of that human being to natural death," is "clearly unconstitutional pursuant to Planned Parenthood v. Casey."
"Chinese dissident" Chen Guangcheng, aided by an "activist network" in escaping house arrest, isn't often referred to as a Christian pro-life advocate, but that's what he is. Get Religion reports.
Here are some thoughts, about the experience of attending a Catholic law school (i.e., Notre Dame), from a student in my "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" class:
In a way, I am living the dream. As an undergraduate, two things that I was certain about were: (1) I wanted to go to law school (2) If admitted, I would go Notre Dame Law School (NDLS). Accordingly, once I was admitted into NDLS, the choice was easy to attend NDLS. My faith is central to my life and, after attending a public university for my B.A., the thought of attending a tier 1 law school rooted in the Catholic faith was refreshing and exciting. I looked forward to integrating my faith life with my studies and meeting intelligent people who shared my faith. Now that I am two years into my law degree at NDLS and I want to very briefly touch on my inside perspective, as an orthodox leaning Catholic, of NDLS.
In my opinion, the most “Catholic” part of NDLS is its faculty. A majority of my professors are serious Catholics and are completely open about their faith life. I love the fact that many of my professors think beyond the letter of the law and approach the law as a means to further the dignity of humankind. However, one complaint I would have is that most of my professors are so diplomatic about controversial issues that I feel it prevents good discussions about some of the more hot button issues of our time
The student body at NDLS is significantly less Catholic than the faculty. There are a handful of students who came to NDLS because it is a Catholic university but it seems that a majority of students are here for other reasons, such as NDLS’s high ranking or prestigious name. A couple weeks ago I attended mass at the law school on a Wednesday. I was surprised to discover that only 4 of the attendees were law students (although no professors were present). With all that being said, I don’t want to give the wrong impression. There is serious Catholic bent in among the NDLS student body, obviously, much more than you will find among other tier 1 law schools. I have been just a little underwhelmed with the “fervence” of the student body. In NDLS’s defense, it would be a tall task to admit 200 serious Catholics per year and still remain a top-notch law school.
The Hill newspaper is reporting the following comments by President Obama:
"This contraception fight in particular was illuminating. It was like being in a time machine. Republicans in Congress were going so far as to say an employer should be able to have a say in the health care decisions of its female employees. You know, for a party that prides itself on being rabidly anti-regulations of almost any kind, for folks who claim to believe in freedom from government interference and meddling, it doesn’t seem to bother them when it comes to a woman’s health."
I hope that the President is being misquoted here. If he actually said these words---if, in other words, this is how he chooses to characterize the serious religious liberty concerns of Catholics, joined by Protestants, Jews, Muslims, and others who criticize the HHS mandate---then there is, it seems to me, no way around the conclusion that his statements, especially those at Notre Dame, about the need for "open hearts," "open minds," and "fairminded words" were utterly disingenuous.
I recognize that politics is "tackle" not "touch," and that we can't reasonably demand that politicians play it completely straight in criticizing the opposition. There will always be spinning and exaggerating and depicting the other guy's view in the worst possible light. The President will do that and I have no doubt that his opponent (Governor Romney, I assume) will do it, too, in the months ahead. Fine. That's the way the game is played. Both sides play it that way.
The difference here is that the mandate raises very important constitutional and moral issues---issues on which the President has listened to, and claims to have taken seriously, the carefully articulated concerns and arguments of Cardinal Timothy Dolan and other religious leaders whose sincerity and integrity are beyond question. Many of them are people who have long supported the concept of univeral health insurance coverage. To characterize their concerns and arguments as an effort to insinuate themselves into "the health care decisions of female employees" is beyond vulgar. It is deeply unfair and, one cannnot but say, dishonest. In light of what the President said at Notre Dame and elsewhere, it is also hypocritical.
One of my students in the "Catholic Social Thought and the Law" class shared this reflection:
Throughout the semester, as I read the Compendium and other authoritative expositions of the Church’s social doctrine, I often thought “this is incredibly grand and utopian, but how does this affect me? What do you want me to do about it? ” The institutional Church largely leaves the details of social policy to the laity. Benedict has told us that “the direct duty to work for a just ordering of society is proper to the lay faithful.” But what on earth am I learning in law school that can enable me to “change the world” or help build “a more just society”?
Law, it seems to me, is—perhaps more than any other human discipline—a study in human anthropology. Since law serves an important pedagogical function, it is crucial to get it right. Part of being a Catholic lawyer is allowing the Church to purify our reason and convince us that law must be founded upon what we are as humans. As John Paul II said, a proper anthropology is essential to the foundations of society and law. Perhaps the key insight that the Church has about human anthropology is her understanding of human purpose.
Recently, we read the transcript of a talk by Professor Amy Barrett to the graduates of our law school on what it means to be a “different kind of lawyer,” and her words were so forceful and true that they stayed with me and have helped me think about Catholic social doctrine as a whole— from subsidiarity to the teaching on economics—all of which calls for purposive integration and not isolation into the types of neat and tidy little compartments we tend to put things in when we can’t remember what we’re doing or why we’re doing it. She said that we should always remember that a “legal career is but a means to an end . . . and that end is building the Kingdom of God.”
The Church’s deep insight into human purpose tells me that we should never be complacent with the practices of our profession that conflict with its nobility and, as Aristotle would say, the “architectonic” role of the law: practices like creative over-billing, just telling the client what he or she wants to hear, lax and minimalist ethical norms, and going along unreflectively while there are unjust laws that hinder human purpose—with the practices in our profession that have made it the butt of so many jokes. Instead, though we may not all have the nobility, and the iron will, of a Saint Thomas More, we should at least be willing to make the smaller sacrifices that reflect our great purpose—as individuals and as part of a guild—and to build the respect for our profession and for law that achieving this purpose requires. In other words, Catholic Social Doctrine at its core does more than just tell us how to think about doing the big things—things that may seem so far out of our reach as to cause us to despair. By informing us of our ultimate purpose, it shows us how to do the little things and how to order our lives and think about reality as a whole, since the Kingdom of God, like any kingdom, is built brick by brick.
