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.

Friday, January 20, 2012

The Deeply Misguided Contraception-Mandate Decision

The decision not to expand the narrow exemption from mandatory contraceptive coverage is disappointing, for me, on several levels.  As someone who believes that the healthcare law accomplishes many good goals, I think it is both unjust and strategically unwise for progressives to reject meaningful exemptions from such laws.  Among other things, the statute is now one step more vulnerable to being undercut or even repealed at the initiative of those angered or burdened by it.

Here's my recent piece from The Christian Century arguing that religious progressives "should support significant accommodations for religious beliefs--even those with which they disagree."

Obama holds firm on contraceptive coverage mandate

The Obama administration is refusing to broaden the exemption from the new rule requiring religious employers to cover contraceptives:

The Obama administration will allow religious organizations a one-year delay before they must comply with a new rule requiring employers that offer workers health insurance to include access to contraception with no out-of-pocket cost, according to people familiar with the decision.

But the rule itself and the employers covered by it remain unchanged.

I am (a little) surprised and (a lot) disappointed that the administration didn't budge.  I'm also not sure what the purpose of the one-year delay is.  My cynical side can't help but notice that it conveniently postpones any enforcement dramas until after the election.  If you need a refresher on the merits of the exemption debate, check out Rick's op-ed from a couple of months ago.

Can the State De-Baptize?

The Washington Post has an interesting article from January 18 entitled “Flood of ‘de-Baptisms’ Worries European Church Leaders.” [HERE] The article recounts, through several personal accounts, the large number of western Europeans who are asking civil officials to remove their names from Catholic and Protestant baptismal records.

As the report states,

A decade ago, Rene Lebouvier requested that his local Catholic church erase his name from the baptismal register. The church noted his demands on the margins of its records and the chapter was closed. But the clergy abuse scandals rocking Europe, coupled with Pope Benedict XVI’s conservative stances on contraception, hardened Lebouvier’s views. Last October, a court in Normandy ruled in favor of his lawsuit to have his name permanently deleted from church records — making the 71-year-old retiree the first Frenchman to be officially “de-baptized.” “I took the judicial route to get myself de-baptized because of the church’s excesses,” said Lebouvier, speaking by telephone from his village of Fleury, near the D-Day beaches. “It’s a sort of honesty toward the church because they have a guy on their register who doesn’t believe in God.”

The questions here are: does the civil authority have the competence to do this? Should the civil authorities have the competence to do this?

My point does not address nor do I intend to address the European matter where citizens can add or remove their names from state registers stating that a percentage of their taxes are to be paid to a particular church or religious organization as is permitted under the positive law. As this circumstance does not exist in the United States, I am not tackling this issue today. But I am raising concerns about the state inserting itself at the request of a citizen into a matter that is purely ecclesiastical. Here it seems that the state is ordering the Church to remove from its baptismal records the name of an individual who no longer chooses to remain in the Church. That is his business that reflects the exercise of his free will. But can the state reorder history and command deletion from the records that the Church has maintained for ecclesiastical purposes indicating that M. Rene Lebouvier on a certain date received the sacrament of baptism? I, for one, do not think the state has this authority because it has no role in the administration or revocation of the sacraments of the Church. Should it insist otherwise, the state is then exercising an authority for which it does not have the competence. M. Lebouvier asked that he no longer be considered Catholic, and the parish where he was baptized respected his request to apostatize. That matter should have properly stopped there.

RJA sj

Digital Addictions and the Sabbath

The essays continue to appear on the need to escape, if only for a time, our digital addictions. For another, with citations to three other good ones, see here.

 But the digital addictions are part of a larger phenomenon that has been addressed by religious traditions from the beginning. In this connection, I am reminded of a comment by Dara Horn referring “to the impossibility of removing oneself from the current of modern life and the equal impossibility of being forever caught in the current.”  Horn’s comment was made in connection with praising Judith Schlevitz’s The Sabbath World. Schlevitz writes from a Jewish perspective, but compares the Jewish and Christian traditions in her book. As to the tension described by Horn, Shulevitz puts it nicely: “Americans once the most Sabbatarian people on earth are now the most ambivalent on the subject. On the one hand, we miss the Sabbath. When we pine for escape from the rat race; when we check into spas, yoga centers, encounter weekends, spiritual retreats; when we fret about the disappearance of more old fashioned time, with its former, generally agreed-upon rhythms of labor and repose; when we deplore the increase in time devoted to consumption; when we complain about the commercialization of leisure, which turns fun into work and requires military-scale budgeting and logistics . . . whenever we worry about these things, we are remembering the Sabbath, its power to protect us from the clamor of our own desires. But when, say, we return from a trip to some less developed country and feel a sense of relief that our twenty-four hour economy allows us to work, shop, dine, and be entertained when we want to, not according to some imposed schedule, at that point, too, we are remembering the Sabbath. We are remembering how claustrophobic its rigid boundaries used to make us feel.”

I was raised as a Catholic in the fortys and fifties(I have been in and out of the Church since) and Sunday was a day to go to Mass. I was told it was the Sabbath, but I did not hear a sermon about the Sabbath’s meaning until I heard Taryn Mattice, a Presbyterian minister gave a sermon on it some fifteen years ago in the Sage Chapel. The Christian Sabbath has not been marked by rigid boundaries and rules. But that has led to its decline. That leads me to offer two cheers for the claustrophobic condition.

Thursday, January 19, 2012

What Does It Mean to Call a Judicial Opinion Particularist?

Hosanna-Tabor has come and gone, with a flurry of commentary out of the gate (including reliably acute posts by Rick, Michael, and Tom, as well as what I thought was an interesting reflection on religious dissent by Jessie Hill here) and now a bit of (perhaps welcome!) silence.  Last week, I described the decision as particularist, but I did not define the term.  Judicial particularism is a concept that I explore in my current book project, Tragedy and History: The Quality of Religious Liberty, but for purposes of this post, I thought to offer some quick-shot thoughts about what judicial particularism might mean -- first what it does not, or need not, mean, and second what I believe it does, or at least could, mean. 

If judicial particularism is taken to mean only the simple and bland proposition that "context matters" in the adjudication of cases, then that seems fairly uncontroversial. Of course context matters.  Who would disagree?  Even those who prefer the ostensible discipline of hard rules in adjudication acknowledge that general rules are not self-applying and that the specifics of a case will and ought to affect the outcome. 

Judicial particularism also does not necessarily mean or imply adjudicatory narrowness, in the sense of deciding only the absolute minimum that one needs to dispose of the case.  It is true that often times particularistic judgments may also be narrow judgments.  Indeed, this is a position with great appeal.  But one could be both a judicial particularist and write a decision that intimates (perhaps subtly, in dicta, or perhaps implicitly, by failing to say anything) the resolution of other, future cases that are factually similar on similar grounds, or the resolution of other, future cases that are factually dissimilar on dissimilar grounds.

Following Jonathan Dancy's work on moral particularism, I take the core of judicial particularism to be that it is possible to decide cases reasonably predictably without the necessity of relying on a single general value or principle, or even a set number of general values or principles, to do so.  The sting in particularism is not that 'context matters' but that reasons or values which are important in some specific context may not be so in others.  Reasons or values do not have either constant or categorical weight across a range of disputes, or even among cases within a range, so that what is a reason for reaching a judgment in one set of circumstances may not, as Dancy puts it, retain the same "polarity" in another set of circumstances. 

I should make clear that for me the analogy from moral particularism to law is more suggestive than direct.  I do not believe that a rigorous version of particularism is well-suited to law, principally because I believe in a comparatively strong approach to the bindingness of precedent for various reasons not directly related to particularism.  But I do think that a soft particularism is one way to understand certain decisions in religion clause law, including Chief Justice Roberts's opinion in Hosanna-Tabor.  Take, for example, the Chief's discussion of the bare fact of the official title, "minister."  It seems to me that what the Chief is saying is that the Sixth Circuit was wrong completely to disregard the fact that Cheryl Perich had obtained the title of minister -- not even to consider that fact in deciding the ME question.  An official designation is often a reason to ascribe a particular legal status.  But at the same time, the Chief was very much unwilling to say that the formal title itself "automatically ensure[s] coverage."  Slip op. at 18.  The formal title is an invitation to ask more fact-specific questions about the nature of her position and the perceptions of the employer and the employee with respect to it.

Suppose it turned out that Perich had been given the title "minister" very late in the game -- on the eve of litigation, say -- precisely and solely for the reason that it would make it more likely that courts would apply the ministerial exception to her case.  It seems to me that one way to interpret the decision is that in such a case, the formal title minister would not merely be no reason to find that the exception applied.  It might in fact be a negative reason -- a reason exactly to find that the ministerial exception should not apply.  That would be an example of a reason which might have salience in one sort of context but the opposite sort of salience in another.

Or suppose instead that Perich had been given the title, "minister," but that in the particular faith under consideration, everyone who joins the religion is automatically given the title minister as a pro forma matter.  To be a minister, all one needs to do is to be nominally affiliated with the religious organization.  In that sort of case, a reason which might have salience in one sort of context would have no (but not negative) salience in this context.  

Much the same method may be applied to other sorts of reasons cited by the Court.  Take, for example, the fact that, in the Court's view, Perich held herself out as a minister of the Church.  The subjective perception of the employee with respect to the nature of his or her position, and the actions taken by the employee as a consequence of those perceptions, are, the Court seems to say, often times important reasons in determining whether the position is, in fact, "ministerial."  But one could imagine fairly easily situations in which the subjective perceptions (and consequent actions) of the employee would not count as reasons.  Suppose the employee believed in earnest that he ought to count as a minister, and held himself out as a minister, but it was plain that nobody within the religious organization ever thought the same thing.  The reasons for the employee's beliefs need not be delusional; they might be grounded in a different or dissenting set of theological or doctrinal beliefs about what the religious organization ought to require in order to be a minister.  The point is that a reason which might be salient in one context might lose its salience entirely, or at least acquire a different polarity, in another.  And the best way to achieve an evolving sense of the quality of the ministerial exception is by the accretion of cases over time which give jurisprudential shape to its content.

That is why, in my view, the staking out of a particularist approach by the Chief (with the unanimous agreement of his colleagues) -- coupled with the Court's "reluctan[ce] to adopt any test" -- at the very birth of the ministerial exception is so interesting from a doctrinal perspective.  It is somewhat more difficult to replace a hard rule with a particularist method once the hard rule has become encrusted with precedent (not at all impossible, but at least more complicated).  But by bringing the ministerial exception into being as a jurisprudential creature living in a particularist legal world, the Court (all 9 of them) has set the future of the ME on a decidedly common law course.  I may be wrong, but I do not believe this has happened in any other corner of religion clause law.  It will be interesting to see how the ME develops through the years, nurtured on the diet of common law constitutionalism.     

The Challenges to Religious Freedom

 

This morning, Pope Benedict met a group of U.S. bishops on their ad limina visit with the Holy Father, and he delivered to them an important address dealing with religious freedom in the United States. [HERE] His remarks echo the sentiments of Paul VI who, at the conclusion of the Second Vatican Council, stated to the temporal authorities of the world that the one thing that the Church asked of them was the freedom to exist in order that she may advance her mission without impediment. Implicit in this request of Paul VI was the necessity to promote in public forums the Church’s teachings that are critical to the development and preservation of the moral and virtuous life and the promotion of the common good.

Today, Benedict XVI reemphasized this central objective. As he, Benedict, stated,

At the heart of every culture, whether perceived or not, is a consensus about the nature of reality and the moral good, and thus about the conditions for human flourishing. In America, that consensus, as enshrined in your nation’s founding documents, was grounded in a worldview shaped not only by faith but a commitment to certain ethical principles deriving from nature and nature’s God. Today that consensus has eroded significantly in the face of powerful new cultural currents which are not only directly opposed to core moral teachings of the Judeo-Christian tradition, but increasingly hostile to Christianity as such.

Like many others, the pope is aware of the recent erosions of authentic religious liberty around the world, including the great democracies. He stated that true religious freedom has been beneficial to the establishment and the progress of our nation that has promoted human flourishing and the advancement of the common good. Yet, the pope also noted that,

For her part, the Church in the United States is called, in season and out of season, to proclaim a Gospel which not only proposes unchanging moral truths but proposes them precisely as the key to human happiness and social prospering (cf. Gaudium et Spes, 10). To the extent that some current cultural trends contain elements that would curtail the proclamation of these truths, whether constricting it within the limits of a merely scientific rationality, or suppressing it in the name of political power or majority rule, they represent a threat not just to Christian faith, but also to humanity itself and to the deepest truth about our being and ultimate vocation, our relationship to God. When a culture attempts to suppress the dimension of ultimate mystery, and to close the doors to transcendent truth, it inevitably becomes impoverished and falls prey, as the late Pope John Paul II so clearly saw, to reductionist and totalitarian readings of the human person and the nature of society.

The pope continued his exhortation by emphasizing the crucial relationship between faith and reason that is essential not only for the Church but for all of civil society. This does not mean that the Christian perspective will always control the outcome of public discourse, but it does mean that this point of view must nevertheless always be a substantial and meaningful part of the discourse. As Benedict asserted,

The Church’s defense of a moral reasoning based on the natural law is grounded on her conviction that this law is not a threat to our freedom, but rather a “language” which enables us to understand ourselves and the truth of our being, and so to shape a more just and humane world. She thus proposes her moral teaching as a message not of constraint but of liberation, and as the basis for building a secure future.

The Holy Father further realized that there presently exist dangers to the Church’s ability, through all her members, to serve as an advocate and a public moral witness that is essential to the common good by providing a critical counterpoint to the “radical secularism” of the day that increases its influence on the political and cultural dimensions of civil society. In one particular context the pope identified the assaults against the right to enjoy the benefits and public exercise of the well-formed conscience, an issue frequently discussed here at the Mirror of Justice.

The pope continued by expressing that it is essential to the preservation of authentic religious freedom that “an engaged, articulate and well-formed Catholic laity” (and here, I suggest that this means any person who thinks with and not against the Church) provide this essential counterpoint in the debates surrounding the important issues of the day. The Holy Father also expressed his gratitude to those ecclesiastical officials who have maintained contacts with Catholics in public life who have or can have an impact on the outcome of the political, social, economic, and cultural debates that often determine what is constitutive of our democratic society.

I, for one, pray that all members of the Church around the world, but especially here in the United States, will take to heart the words of the Holy Father and the encouraging and challenging words he has offered.

 

RJA sj

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Radical equality, mentally handicapped people, and organ transplants

Thanks to Rick for calling attention to the story of the mentally handicapped child who may be disfavored for a kidney transplant simply because of her handicap.  And bravo to Rick for identifying the principle that would be violated by discrimination against the child on the basis of that handicap:  the radical equality of human beings.  Bravo, too, to my friend Art Caplan, the distinguished bioethicist at the University of Pennsylvania, for his wise and precise moral analysis of the subject:  http://vitals.msnbc.msn.com/_news/2012/01/17/10175611-bioethicist-transplant-denial-for-mentally-disabled-child-raises-questions.  Art is not generally regarded as a friend of the pro-life cause, but pro-lifers will be cheering him on this one.  His bottom line:  "There are reasons why anyone with an intellectual or physical disability might not be considered a good candidate for a transplant.  But those reasons, to be ethical, have to be linked to the chance of making the transplant succeed. Otherwise they are not reasons, they are only biases."  Amen, brother.

If there is a principle that can truly be said to be at the heart of the Christian understanding morality, surely it is the radical equality of every member of the human family as a creature fashioned in the very image and likeness of God.  Each of us, regardless of race, sex, ethnicity, and the like, but also irrespective of age, size, stage of development, and intellectual or physical ability, is the bearer of profound, inherent, and equal dignity.  No one is inherently superior or inferior in fundamental worth to anyone else. One needn't be a Christian (or a religious believer of any stripe) to grasp that great and central truth about our human condition--think of the witness given to it by the great pro-life journalist and social critic Nat Hentoff, for example; but if one does happen to be a Christian, it should be impossible not to understand and affirm it.

Transplant denial for disabled child

The Anchoress has the story (and links).  And, USA Today reports that advocates for people with special needs have taken up the cause.

MOJ readers and bloggers are, I am confident, deeply committed to radical human equality, and so would reject any claim that the life of a disabled child is "worth" less than that of anyone else.  That said, we owe it to ourselves to ask (I'm thinking of my teacher Guido Calabresi's book, Tragic Choices), what considerations are we allowed to take into account, and what mechanisms are we permitted use -- given our commitment to human equality -- for allocating much-needed but (presumably) scarce goods like organ transplants?  We could say, of course, that there's a line, and people get in it and wait; when someone's turn comes up, that's it, and the needed organ is theirs.  But, we don't say that (at least, I don't think we do).  If not, why not, and should we? 

UPDATE:  Prof. Charles Camosy, whose work has been discussed several times here at MOJ, is quoted in this news story about the case.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Herbert W. Vaughan: A Tribute

On November 28, 2011, Herbert W. "Wiley" Vaughan, a truly eminent man of the law, died at the age of 91. This past Saturday, I had the honor of giving a eulogy at his memorial service:

Tribute to Herbert W. Vaughan

Robert P. George

St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church

Wellesley, Massachusetts

January 14, 2011

If I were to begin this tribute to our beloved friend, and my revered mentor in law and life, by listing Wiley’s important contributions and accomplishments as a lawyer, a philanthropist, a conservationist, and an engaged citizen, I would not even have completed the list when my five minutes elapsed.  So instead of doing that, I will focus my reflection on what mattered most to Wiley himself, and what made his numerous and remarkable achievements possible, namely, the excellence of his character.

Now I would be the last person to claim that worldly success is necessarily evidence of good character, or that the lack of worldly accomplishments reveals a want of integrity or other moral virtues.  You can take it on the authority of the Bible (though such weighty authority is scarcely needed for so evident a truth) that all-too-often the wicked prosper and the virtuous must rest content with virtue as its own reward.  But in Wiley’s case, a virtuous man prospered, and his prospering was the fruit not only of intelligence, determination, and a willingness to work hard to achieve goals, but also of honesty, steadfastness, integrity, public spiritedness, and other moral virtues.  The transparent excellence of Wiley’s character won him trust and admiration.  His purity of heart helped to ferment the raw must of intelligence into the precious wine of wisdom.  People turned to Wiley, in every field of his interest and endeavor, because they knew him to be a supremely honorable man as well as an impressively able one.  Not only was he was a person whose counsel was worth having and heeding, he was someone who could be completely trusted and relied upon.

The lovely tribute to Wiley that was posted on the Wilmer Hale website after his death recalls the days of the great commercial real estate boom that transformed the Boston skyline, and notes Wiley’s central role in it.  “During that time,” the author writes, “Herbert W. Vaughan was the go-to lawyer for developers and lenders involved in Boston’s most complex and prominent projects because of his reputation for wisdom and sound judgment, meticulous drafting, tenacious negotiating and consummate deal-making skills.”  Of course, that is 100% true.  But let’s pause for a second over that reference to Wiley’s “consummate deal making skills.”  Someone reading those words who didn’t know Wiley personally might conjure up an image of a wheeler-dealer type, a Steve Wynn or a Donald Trump.  Of course, Wiley’s personality and manner was nothing like that.  He was, indeed, tenacious in protecting and advancing the interests of his clients, but what made him a great negotiator was that everybody around the table knew that he was impeccably fair-minded and honest.  This is not to suggest that the wheeler-dealer types are necessarily dishonest; I’m sure many are not.  It is only to say that Wiley’s self-evident integrity—a feature of his personality that no one who was with him for more than an hour could miss—made it clear to those with whom, as well as those for whom, he was negotiating that he was not a manipulator or a deception artist. He was a straight shooter.  If he made a representation or commitment, you could take it to the bank.  He was as good as his word and his word was always his bond.  And in this case the virtue of honesty, though, to be sure, its own reward, brought other rewards as well—massive professional and financial success, redounding to him and to the firm he loved and served so devotedly—and, ultimately, to the benefit of the educational, conservationist, medical, and other charitable enterprises he supported.

Anyone who knew Wiley, whether though his work at Hale & Dorr or his leadership in education, conservation, and the like, knew that he deeply, and passionately believed in high standards.  He held himself to the highest standards in his personal as well as his professional life, and he demanded high standards from those with whom he worked and of the enterprises he supported.  He did not hold financial success and worldly recognition in disdain; but, in the true spirit of professionalism, he regarded them as secondary in importance to excellence.  For Wiley, excellence is what mattered above all.  And he encouraged, promoted, supported, and honored it wherever he could find it—whether it was at Wilmer Hale, at Harvard Law School or Princeton University, at the Roxbury Latin School, the Trustees of Reservations, Brigham and Women’s Hospital, the Abstract Club, the American Enterprise Institute, the Federalist Society for Law and Public Policy, the American Council of Trustees and Alumni, the Johnson and Chesterton Club.

No one here today is unaware that Wiley was disappointed by, and deeply concerned about, the erosion of ethical, professional, and intellectual standards in so many sectors of our culture today.  But he was never a scold.  To be sure, he would not hesitate to express an opinion where appropriate, even if the opinion were a critical or negative one; he was not shy about stating his views; but Wiley’s principal method of promoting excellence and high standards of thought and conduct was by exemplifying them in his own life.  In this respect, though in his humility he would scoff at the comparison, he resembled no one so much as the father of our country, George Washington.  And like President Washington, the excellence of character and his devotion to high standards caused others, even among the great, to treat him as the bearer of a special dignity and as someone who commanded an unusually high degree of respect.  It took a long time, even after Wiley and I had become close friends, for me to bring myself finally to address him as “Wiley,” rather than “Mr. Vaughan.”  I suspect I am not alone among us gathered here in having had that experience.

Now, about that friendship:  It began as inauspiciously as possible.  I was a summer associate, working for the guy, who was working for the guy, who was working for Wiley.  I had a graduate school application in to Oxford, and was at the same time angling for an offer of full-time employment at Hale & Dorr.  Since the fate of my Oxford application was uncertain, getting the law firm offer was pretty important to me—especially since I really enjoyed working there and palling around with young superstar lawyers like Bill Lee, Jim Quarles, and John Burgess.  Well, in connection with a Back Bay real estate development matter we were handling, I was instructed to prepare a memo on riparian rights to be directed to Mr. Vaughan.  (As it happens, the law of riparian rights was one of Wiley’s own areas of interest and expertise.)  I knew I had to hit this one out of the park, so I worked diligently and produced an analysis that I was rather pleased with.  I sent it upstairs, and in due course had a phone call from Wiley’s secretary asking me to come to his office to discuss the issues in the memo with Mr. Vaughan.  Now I had not at that point met him.  But I had viewed him from afar, as it were, and observed the awe in which he was held, even by the senior partners in the firm.  I was eager to make a good impression—I wanted that job offer.  So up to Olympus I went.  I will never forget the first words spoken to me by this great and formidable figure who would become my dear friend.  Those words, seared into my memory, were, verbatim, “Mr. George, please note the spelling of my last name.”  To his evident consternation, I had deprived Wiley of the second “a” in “Vaughan.”  I was horrified and traumatized. I don’t think I really heard another word he said, at least I don’t recall another word.  When I got back to my apartment that evening, I called across town to the girl who a couple of years later would become my bride, and said, “I had better get in to Oxford, because there is no way I’m getting an offer at Hale and Dorr.”

But despite my faux pas, an offer came; and when I declined it to pursue a doctorate at Oxford and an academic career, Wiley called me to his office again—this time to say that he was sorry that I had declined the firm’s offer, but that he was glad to know I was going to Oxford.  It was a place that he and his beloved wife Ann had visited, and for which he had great respect.  He knew it to be a place that retained high standards of academic excellence.  A couple of years later, Wiley called me in Oxford to say that he was taking a sabbatical from the firm and wondered whether he could obtain some sort of special student status at Oxford.  When I approached Harvey McGregor, the Warden of New College, about it, and when he learned who Wiley was, he invited him to become a Visiting Senior Fellow of the College.  He and dear Ann joined us in Oxford for a wonderful term, and from that point forward—for twenty-seven years—a week did not pass without the two of us being in touch with each other.

Although we were both conservative by conviction, he was conservative by temperament as well, and I am not.  He tended to an almost Calvinistic pessimism about human nature and human affairs; I am an inveterate optimist (though I prefer to characterize myself as filled with hope).  He was reserved in his manner—in a becomingly old Bostonian way.  I am, um, how shall I put it?  A bit outgoing.  These differences of personality, coupled with the great distance in years between us, made us rather an odd pair of friends, but we grew ever closer.  He advised, guided, and supported me at every stage of my career, and my friends and family became his friends and family.  He and Ann became like a third set of grandparents to my children.  In 2000, he helped me to found the James Madison Program in American Ideals and Institutions at Princeton, and it gratified me immensely that he took so much pride and pleasure in its success.  As centers and institutes devoted to constitutional law and political thought modeled on the Madison Program sprang up around the country he was delighted.  True to form, he would, however, express a concern:  These programs must never, he said, be permitted to degenerate into partisanship and what he called pamphleteering.  They must be centers of true scholarship—dedicated to the very highest intellectual standards.

Wiley remains, and will remain, with us in spirit and memory.  We who were privileged to be his friends will, I have no doubt, continue to be inspired, as we were inspired when he dwelt among us, by the example of his life.  Let us lead our own lives with the integrity of which his life was a model, and devote ourselves and our institutions to intellectual, professional, and moral excellence.  In that way, we will honor, in the way he would have wished, the great man whose life we gather today to celebrate.

"Justice Without Foundations"

Robert Kraynak, in The New Atlantis, makes a point (HT:  First Things) with which I'm sympathetic that I have tried to make myself, in (too) many MOJ posts:

What is so strange about our age is that demands for respecting human rights and human dignity are increasing even as the foundations for those demands are disappearing. In particular, beliefs in man as a creature made in the image of God, or an animal with a rational soul, are being replaced by a scientific materialism that undermines what is noble and special about man, and by doctrines of relativism that deny the objective morality required to undergird human dignity. How do we account for the widening gap between metaphysics and morals today? How do we explain “justice without foundations” — a virtue that seems to exist like a table without legs, suspended in mid-air? What is holding up the central moral beliefs of our times?