Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Thanks to Rob for bringing to our attention his recent and engaging paper entitled “Whom Should A Catholic Law School Honor?” [Rob’s post here] I am responding to his welcome for comment and input.
At the outset, I find myself in agreement with Rob on many of his thoughtful points. Thus, I do not want my following remarks to be seen simply as critique. As I have said, I agree with much of what he has to say in this characteristically thoughtful presentation. In particular, his analysis of Fr. John I. Jenkins’s distinction between Catholic and non-Catholic speakers is on target. Rob got it right, but Fr. Jenkins did not. It would be nonsensical to say that Catholic institutions are prohibited from honoring or giving platforms to Catholics who act in defiance of the Church’s teachings, including its moral teachings but are allowed to honor or give platforms to non-Catholics who defy Her teachings. An example of this is Larry Flynt’s invitation to speak at Georgetown University several years ago. The fact that the Bishops’ Statement properly noted and quoted by Rob was issued after the Flynt fiasco does not excuse Georgetown from doing the incomprehensible, i.e., inviting Flynt and awarding him a platform to do what most thoughtful people knew he would do—engage in coarse ridicule and display open contempt.
At the beginning of his paper Rob also correctly brings to our attention the significance of “broader debates about the institutional identity and fidelity” that pertain to the question: whom should any Catholic institution—including law schools—honor? I, for one, think that the identity, and therefore the fidelity, of the institution is an unavoidable issue that must be addressed and answered prior to answering: whom can this institution honor? Therefore, I don’t consider it promising to answer Rob’s inviting question without first having established what do “Catholic identity and fidelity” mean, including the context of a law school that uses the term “Catholic” to identify itself.
Books can be and have been written in response to the issues surrounding Catholic fidelity and identity. So, my humble posting cannot get into too many important details about fidelity and identity. But this can be said about Catholic identity and fidelity. Must everyone who is associated with the institution using the modifier “Catholic” be a Catholic—one who professes the faith of the Creed, who follows the Church’s teachings, who acknowledges Peter, who knows that he or she is a sinner but nonetheless strives to live a holy and virtuous life? No. Must the institution that relies on the modifier Catholic and most of those who are in some fashion or other associated with such an institution acknowledge that that there is a profession of faith inextricably connected to the institution’s raison d’être, that there is a deposit of faith (the Church’s teachings) to which adherence is expected, that Peter exists, and that there is the need to strive for holiness in spite of the temptation of sin? Yes.
Now here’s the tricky but vital matter: does the institution which calls itself Catholic profess fidelity to the Creed; does it acknowledge and honor—not ridicule or critique—Peter; does it adhere to rather than dissent from the Church’s teachings; and, does it encourage its members to strive for holiness rather than succumb to the temptations of this world that are so often promoted by a surrounding culture, including that endorsed, promoted, or condoned by a university and its law school? If the institution, at best, pays lip service to, i.e., uses the modifier “Catholic,” but does not embrace the Creed, the Church’s teachings, Peter, or the call to holiness, it is really Catholic in spite of its claim. (Clara Peller of happy memory asked a parallel question about the competitors of the Wendy’s restaurant chain: where’s the beef? In Thomistic fashion, I ask: but where’s the Catholic?)
To borrow from an old line, would there be sufficient evidence to convict the institution claiming to be Catholic to be held so? Until this issue is addressed upfront, addressing the question “Whom Should A Catholic Law School Honor?” is and remains an interesting but theoretical pursuit.
But if we have sufficient understanding of the fundamental question dealing with both fidelity and identity, then I shall proceed to express some alternative thoughts to those presented by Rob’s reflective paper. I agree with him that ascertaining what are “proportionate reasons” for siding with someone who may be a potential candidate to receive an academic honor or platform is a challenging question. But even challenging questions cannot escape good-faith efforts that seek answers.
Let me flesh out my approach to seeking and providing an answer to this last issue. In doing so I use two of the illustrations presented by Rob, i.e., Notre Dame’s conferral of an honorary degree on President Obama and the platform from which to speak; and, Xavier’s conferral of an honorary degree on Ms. Donna Brazile and the platform from which to speak. Even if honorary degrees were not conferred, platforms to which there would be no response—and none is expected in the context of commencement speakers—were given. To be given such a platform is, in fact, an honor whether there is an honoris causa degree given. There is a subliminal message that—even without being awarded a degree honoris causa, a medal, a citation, or some other similar recognition—an honor is bestowed when the commencement podium is given to the commencement speaker. Might Notre Dame and Xavier have invited the President or Ms. Brazile to participate in a colloquium where those faithful to the Creed, Peter, the Church’s teachings, and the call to holiness are also invited participants? Of course, but would they come? Presidents typically don’t do this (they recognize the wisdom of Teddy Roosevelt’s “bully pulpit” analogy), but this would not have prevented Notre Dame from extending the invitation to the President to join in a colloquium or symposium discussion where the Church and all that she stands for would not be marginalized or forgotten. News commentators, campaign directors, and Georgetown adjunct-professors like Ms. Brazile often do receive and accept such invitations as I have just described. These are contexts vital to Rob’s contextual discussion that he presents in his paper that were not mentioned.
Here is what I contend is my fundamental disagreement with Rob. If I have misunderstood or misconstrued him, I beg his correction. He states:
A Catholic law school should never honor a person because of their actions that defy the Church’s teachings. A Catholic law school may honor a person despite their actions that defy the Church’s teachings, but only if the circumstances are such that the honor is unlikely to cause observers to question the school’s commitment to the truth of the Church’s teachings.”
Rob makes a good distinction by using “because” and “despite.” But the inquiry about context and confusion cannot rest here. Rob suggests that there might be circumstances in which observers will not be confused about the institution’s “commitment to the truth of the Church’s teachings.” I disagree. The invitee is being honored in some way—be it with an honorary degree, a podium, both, or something else constitutive of an honor. A pretext may be offered in publicity materials such as “We know our honored speaker disagrees with us as Catholics on important issues, but we agree on others.” It might be said that a certain chancellor of Germany could be commended for his plan to extract his country and her people from economic disaster; but, should he be honored knowing what else he has done, to what else he was committed? Context is not partial, it must be complete in assessing the suitability of candidates who are to be honored by an institution that claims fidelity to the modifier “Catholic.” Rob correctly brings up the important matter of the common good, an essential element of the Church’s teachings. But let us not forget that the Church has defined the meaning of this term, and Her definition is not forgetful of Her teachings. She does not and cannot rely on the explication given to this important phrase (and the ideas it represents) offered by those who disagree with the Church teachings. They may say they are for the common good, but they do not share in the meaning held and taught by the Church. It is an expansive topic that covers all vital interests, not just some.
There are ways of extending invitations, as I have mentioned, so that persons who cannot be honored can still be present and participate in a robust exchange of ideas at an institution that claims to be Catholic. This point is, I believe, concurrent with Rob’s statement about identity flourishing “more through proactive witness than through omission.” But, an honor is an honor. And, its being conferred in whatever way cannot escape the conclusion—or to use Rob’s term, confusion—that the particular person’s defiance of Church teachings is permissible. It is not. Again, there are contexts where those who stand in defiance may nonetheless be able to participate in an event sponsored by a Catholic institution. But, let us be clear on one thing, an honor by any name is still an honor. Be it conclusion or confusion, observers will be given a message that is inescapable about the true nature of the institution that has extended the honor regardless of this institution’s claim to the contrary. It is Catholic, or it is not. Honoring a person or organization who may assert that it is for the “common good” and other important issues but is opposed to the Church’s teachings on issues for which there is no compromise or ability to disagree is support for the person or organization who persists in defiance—implicit or explicit. The “Catholic” institution that extends this support betrays its claim that it is Catholic. The person who cannot be honored might still be invited given the appropriate context without the honor being extended and without the inevitable conclusion or confusion that, in spite of the institution’s claim that it is Catholic is, in fact, otherwise.
RJA sj
Here is the last paragraph of the K&M essay:
So here's our Super Bowl strategy for the choice movement. We'd go with a 30-second spot, too. The camera focuses on one woman after another, posed in the situations of daily life: rushing out the door in the morning for work, flipping through a magazine, washing dishes, teaching a class of sixth-graders, wheeling a baby stroller. Each woman looks calmly into the camera and describes her different and successful choice: having a baby and giving it up for adoption, having an abortion, having a baby and raising it lovingly. Each one being clear that making choices isn't easy, but that life without tough choices doesn't exist.
Let them run that preferred ad they suggest at the end of the essay. The approach they suggest would be very effective, for the pro-life cause. Who's going to choose abortion if they find out there are two other good alternatives? Who's going to want to keep abortion-on demand legal if we reach a consensus that it's not really necessary (e.g. to give employment equality to women)?
NOW & NARAL realize that they've got to suppress the Tebow ad, that they've got to avoid talk of any decent alternatives, that they've got to be pro-abortion in order to secure pro-choice.
The column by Jill Stanek
(link) seems to me the best analysis I've seen in the popular press.
It seems to me that unless "unreasonable mistake re justification" in Kansas law refers only to mistakes of naked facts, as opposed to the mistaken judgment calls on issues of mixed law-and-fact that are usually involved in justifications, Roeder was treated wrongly in being denied that partial defense (which would have let the jury reduce the charge to manslaughter).
Indeed, even if only mistake as to naked facts would count for mitigation to manslaughter , the judge should have made that clear from the beginning, so that Roeder would not have been misled into confessing. So either way, Roeder did not get fair process.
This sort of treatment undermines respect for the courts and even the law itself.
[Michael, posting at Concurring Opinions, writes:]
Justice Kennedy frames his majority opinion in Citizens United
around the basic issue whether “the Government may impose restrictions on
certain disfavored speakers,” namely corporations, but in so doing, Justice
Kennedy asks the wrong set of questions. Corporations aren’t the relevant actors
whose rights we ought to be concerned about. Corporations are not people, nor
entitled to all the constitutional rights of individual citizens. But as many
supporters of Citizens United argue correctly, we nonetheless invest
institutions, such as corporations and political parties, with constitutional
entitlements when it appropriately serves the rights of individuals who
constitute those institutions. And yes, corporate expenditures would be a more
efficient way for shareholders to convert treasury funds into political speech.
However, there’s lots of campaign finance regulation that complicates the
ability of shareholders or other individuals to direct funds to political
speech. For instance, contribution limits restrict the ability of all
individuals to deploy their funds to maximum advantage, but the Court (at least
so far) permits the government to restrict contributions anyway. In other words,
the fact that a government restriction makes shareholder speech more difficult
is obviously insufficient by itself to justify a constitutional prohibition of
that restriction—we need to know a lot more about how shareholders’ expressive
interests are compromised, if at all, to a degree that requires the Court to
intervene.
In the context of Citizens United, it is unclear to me how
shareholders are inappropriately disadvantaged by a prohibition on corporate
expenditures. Shareholders aren’t disadvantaged by their decision to
incorporate, because they always remain free to make independent expenditures on
an unlimited basis in their individual capacity, just like non-shareholders and
everyone else. The analysis might be different if shareholders were in a worse
position than non-shareholders, but they’re not. Just as non-shareholders can
aggregate funds through a PAC or political party, so too can shareholders.
Perhaps the government should allow corporate expenditures and simply expect
non-shareholders to incorporate as well, but whether the Constitution prohibits
the government from refusing to do so is a different matter.
What functional difference does Citizens United achieve by
permitting corporations to spend treasury funds on independent expenditures?—a
key difference is that shareholders obtain the advantage of streamlined
aggregation through the corporation, as opposed to other entities. To aggregate
their funds, non-shareholders pool their funds, subject to personal income tax,
derived from various sources by contributing individually to a PAC or political
party. The PAC or party collects their pooled money, but it does so only subject
to applicable restrictions on contributions under campaign finance law. By
contrast, the post-Citizens United corporation may serve as both a
source of funds and the pooling entity for those funds all at once for its
shareholders. It can pool shareholder money simply by retaining earnings,
instead of distributing dividends to shareholders who then must aggregate those
funds through a separate entity. This streamlined aggregation not only lowers
transaction costs, but uses pre-tax dollars (for purposes of personal income
tax) and bypasses restrictions on contributions. Aggregation through PACs and
parties is quite inefficient by comparison. So, I don’t understand why
shareholders should be constitutionally entitled to this advantage. And it is
difficult to understand why speech by PACs and political parties, whose First
Amendment credentials are at least as strong in this context as for-profit
corporations, would receive less constitutional protection.
The justification, according to Citizens United, is doctrinal
consistency with Buckley v. Valeo, but the arrogance of Citizens
United on this point is awful. Citizens United’s reasoning is that
Buckley determined that there is no government interest in limiting
independent expenditures. According to Buckley, independent
expenditures present no risk of corruption, and therefore government regulation
restricting independent expenditures is unconstitutional, regardless of their
source. Of course, the Court in Austin v. Michigan Chamber of Commerce [2]
had engaged in doctrinal calisthenics to avoid this very conclusion and uphold a
prohibition on corporate expenditures. Citizens United overrules
Austin for this reason and mocks it as “not well reasoned.” Although
this criticism is understandable in certain respects, Citizen United’s
overwhelming confidence in the original correctness of Buckley is not.
If Austin doesn’t make sense, the same thing can be said about
Buckley.
Buckley is absurd as a matter of political reality in its
constitutional assertion that contributions are potentially corrupting, but that
independent expenditures are not at all. Citizens United depends on
this absurdity from Buckley, without any reservation about its
unreality. Notably, Justice Kennedy spends only a single paragraph from his
56-page majority opinion in dismissing the relevance of his majority opinion
in Caperton v. Massey [3], which recognizes the
corrupting potential of independent expenditures less than a year ago. Of
course, Caperton involved a different remedy than the government sought
in Citizens United, as Kennedy notes, but both cases hinged on a
critical judgment about the plausibility of corruption from independent
expenditures. In Caperton, Kennedy’s answer is basically yes, while his
answer in Citizens United is no. There are ways to distinguish the
cases, but only members of Justice Kennedy’s immediate family could find his
summary dismissal of Caperton in any way convincing. If the payoff from
Citizens United is doctrinal consistency with Buckley, there’s
no payoff at all.
The inconsistency between Buckley and Austin, now resolved
by Citizens United, was a tension intrinsic to campaign finance law,
and not necessarily a failing in the actual practice of campaign finance law.
Campaign finance law is a compromise in terms of both law and democratic values.
It imperfectly expresses tension between abstract notions of liberty and
abstract notions of equality. It expressed tension between unease about
government restriction of speech on one hand and concern about the influence of
economic power on the other hand. The need for campaign finance law to negotiate
these tensions, with legal categories that don’t fully capture their nuances,
account for many logical failings of Buckley, Austin, and
McConnell that are difficult to justify as consistent First Amendment
doctrine. However, campaign finance law as a whole, over the course of many
cases, arguably strove for some pragmatic balance between these legal and
democratic values. Citizens United, by contrast, charts a very
different course.