In the course of working on a short piece for the fall issue of CHURCH magazine, put out by the National Pastoral Life Center, I have decided to come out against “work-life balance.”
Teaching CST and Economic Justice this semester, I was struck by how students are enamored with the balance scale image—by their third year of law school they seem pretty much convinced that just about everything can be sliced up and “balanced” to provide the right answer to any given problem.
What happens when we apply this image to the role of work in our lives?I see a danger that “work” becomes a completely separate category from “life”—and so can maintain its own rules and claims, as distinct from the “life” sphere where “personal” values hold sway.
The Council’s suggested alternative is much more complex than a “balance.”Following the example of Christ, who, among other activities, also worked as an artisan, Christians would be
“free to give proper exercise to all their earthly activities and to their humane, domestic, professional, social and technical enterprises by gathering them into one vital synthesis with religious values, under whose supreme direction all things are harmonized unto God’s glory.” (n.43).
Because of this, I’m coming out against “work-life balance” in favor of the term “personal integration.”I think this is more helpful in clarifying that the “work” sphere and its time demands must be judged in light of an overarching framework which gives meaning to one’s entire life.
“Personal integration” is also more helpful in the effort to find value and meaning in tasks and commitments outside the workplace because they too can be modeled on Christ’s own life, which certainly embraced a range of activities—not only manual labor, but also foot-washing, cooking breakfast for his friends, family celebrations and dinners, as well as moments of respite and prayer.
As a result of this shift, I'll have to eat some of the terminology in the piece I did on the Part-Time Paradox, but that's ok. I’ll let you know when the piece is out. Amy
Parsing the 5/10 statement, my question is, what do the Catholic members of Congress mean when they say “pro-choice?”Is it the same thing as what the Bishops mean?
Here is their re-iteration of the Statement of Principles:
“Advancing respect for life and for the dignity of every human being is, as our church has taught us, our own life’s mission. As we said in our Statement of Principles, ‘We envision a world in which every child belongs to a loving family and agree with the Catholic Church about the value of human life and the undesirability of abortion – we do not celebrate its practice. Each of us is committed to reducing the number of unwanted pregnancies and creating an environment with policies that encourage pregnancies to be carried to term.’ That is precisely what some of us are doing with our initiative ‘The Reducing the Need for Abortion and Supporting Parents Act’ – which includes policies that promote alternatives to abortion, such as adoption, improve access to children’s healthcare and child care, as well as encourage paternal and maternal responsibility.”
That strikes me as a deeply “pro-life” statement.
Granted there are some (although I think few) people who do in some sense “celebrate” abortion as a ticket to women’s “freedom” and full participation in society.But I think that when many Catholics, including many Catholic lawmakers, describe themselves as “pro-choice” they are not “celebrating” abortion, but are expressing that that having a hard time envisioning the practical implications of making abortion illegal.
I wonder if we might step back from the pro-life and pro-choice labels, and starting from the Statement of Principles above, focus on those really hard questions of what it means to concretely build a culture of life.
As many of you know, I’m on the record with a critique of how current rhetoric fails to acknowledge that abortion is a profound human and moral tragedy.
I think it’s important that Kennedy’s opinion in Carhart included this graphic testimony from a nurse who had described the “procedure” in these frank terms:
“Dr. Haskell went in with forceps and grabbed the baby's legs and pulled them down into the birth canal. Then he delivered the baby's body and the arms--everything but the head. The doctor kept the head right inside the uterus... . The baby's little fingers were clasping and unclasping, and his little feet were kicking. Then the doctor stuck the scissors in the back of his head, and the baby's arms jerked out, like a startle reaction, like a flinch, like a baby does when he thinks he is going to fall." 'The doctor opened up the scissors, stuck a high-powered suction tube into the opening, and sucked the baby's brains out. Now the baby went completely limp... .He cut the umbilical cord and delivered the placenta. He threw the baby in a pan, along with the placenta and the instruments he had just used.”
Abortion is the death of a baby, and as we wrestle with the policy implications, I believe we need to have that always before us.
So I agree that the last paragraph in the Catholic Members statement:
“The fact is that religious sanction in the political arena directly conflicts with our fundamental beliefs about the role and responsibility of democratic representatives in a pluralistic America - it also clashes with freedoms guaranteed in our Constitution. Such notions offend the very nature of the American experiment and do a great disservice to the centuries of good work the church has done.”
is deeply problematic—because, as the Bishops said, of course it’s appropriate for the Church to speak out against the destruction of innocent children.
But looking at the statement as a whole, in light of the Statement of Principles, I wonder if we might look between the lines and give this a generous read.Could it be that their core concern is that anyone who asks those deeply difficult practical questions—what exactly should we do about this problem in our society—finds themselves misunderstood and labeled?
We undoubtedly need clear and courageous statements that abortion is a grave moral and social evil.But we also need careful and thoughtful reflection about the complex legal and policy choices that will practically and effectively reduce abortion in our society.Currently these two dimensions of the political conversation appear as opposite ends of the spectrum with advocates on either side in a mutually suspicious stand-off.
The Statement of Principles was a step in the right direction.Why can’t we go the extra mile in reaching out—and use that as a springboard to create relationships of trust in which Catholics with differing views might begin to see themselves as potential partners in the same project?I think that those relationships of trust will then serve as the most promising vehicle for fostering a more complex and complete understanding of the role of religion in a democracy, and particularly as it might inform the decisions of elected officials.
In response to Rob's post on whether a a Republican Party led by a pro-abortion politician would become a pro-abortion party: I thought it was fascinating that the editors framed their concerns in terms of setting "rules" and maintaining those boundaries: "Parents know that, when we make significant exceptions to significant rules, those exceptions themselves become iron-clad rules to our children. It’s the same in a political party." I wonder if this might be something of a literary key to understanding the sources of ideological polarization? It seems that if you think about the process of shaping and articulating a party platform as a process of articulating "rules" and maintaining those boundaries, that would have a significant impact not only on the choice of a party's rhetoric, but also it's capacity to imagine the more "problem-solving" dimensions of political life. Thoughts?
Its feast or famine with me, folks.To respond to Rick’s post from eons ago about methods for teaching a CST & the law seminar, I’m finding that I just can’t get away from the texts of the encyclicals.This semester I am teaching a one-credit (7 week) seminar on CST & Economic Justice.My technique has been to showcase one of the documents, flanked by a particular application.(eg, Populorum Progressio with a discussion of liberation theology; Laborem Exercens with a discussion of Billable Hours and law firm schedules, etc.).For next week’s discussion of Centesimus, Mark Sargent is going to be our honored guest, to discuss his “Competing Visions” of the corporation piece, as well as his CST critique of Law & Economics, Utility, The Good and Civic Happiness.Rick, I have found that the various issues to consider emerge on their own from the encyclicals, and that after a few weeks they have the tools to dig in with a pretty sophisticated read.If anything, based on this experience with a focus on just the Economic Justice documents, I’m inclined to work toward a series of mini-seminars on specific topics (eg, CST & Abortion Law & Policy; CST & War; CST & Environmental Law & Policy) – so not to try to digest a myriad of topics, but give them equipment for the principles in one area, together with more space to explore a number of applications.
Last evening Susan Stabile was the featured speaker in Part II of our Catholic Lawyer’s Program which this year explores the theme Faithful Citizenship: the legal, ethical and cultural implications of bringing Catholic values and social teaching into public life. In light of her scholarship (see, eg, State Attempts to Define Religion: The Ramifications of applying Mandatory Prescription Contraception Statutes to Religious Employers, 28 Harv. J. L. & Pub. Policy 741 (2004-2005), she was the perfect guide for the question of how Catholic institutions grapple with the questions that arise “when conscience clashes with state law and policy.” She gave a masterful overview, followed by a thought-provoking response from practicing attorney Piero Tozzi, who filed an amicus brief in support of Catholic Charities of Albany in the NY State Serio case.
It was an amazing tribute to Susan’s work that forty people—mostly practicing lawyers—slogged through the ankle deep sludge of the previous day’s snow, on one of the iciest and coldest days we have seen in a long time! (or perhaps this is NY’s protest that she will soon be leaving this area for slightly colder parts? Sigh.)
Both Susan’s and Piero’s remarks will be published in a forthcoming issue of the Journal of Catholic Legal Studies (a co-sponsor of the event). In the hopes of continuing the conversation, I’ll put out the questions that her presentation raised for me.
First, Susan argues that there’s a broad cultural shift at work – from respect for negative rights (to be free from coercion), to increasing demand for positive rights (society must affirmatively support and perhaps pay for one’s demands). I’m wondering how broad that is – as I’m teaching the seminar on CST & Economic Justice, I have the sense that we still struggle mightily with the grounds to articulate “positive rights” when it comes to constructive vehicles for insuring that basic needs are met (food, shelter, etc.). If there is a cultural shift, might it be limited to, or might there be something different in how it is applied to the “reproductive rights” sphere? Most sharply, could it be that “positive rights” currently seem to have the most pull when they will eliminate (eg, through birth control or abortion) a potential person who might have another claim on society’s resources?
Second, she drew a distinction between type of burdens on religious institutions. Eg, it’s one thing for a Catholic hospital (or it’s agent) to be forced to perform the act of abortion; and it’s another to have to pay increased premiums for contraception. But even with this distinction, she made a strong argument that it poses a significant burden on Catholic institutions to require them to pay for contraception (see her Harvard article).
Here’s a question that might help to sharpen the argument: the image that came to my mind was vouchers. In the school voucher cases, many argue that the government is not actually paying for specifically religious schooling, but rather for education generally, and it’s the parents’ free choice to select the option of a religious institution which supplies to society the service of education. How is this case different? (eg, the Catholic employer is paying for “healthcare,” mediated by individual choices for which individual people take responsibility).
If the insurance policy of a religious employer covers abortion of any kind, shouldn’t that be raising similar flags as the contraception cases? Or could a similar analysis apply? What does it mean to pay for insurance which leads open a number of options, some moral and some not? Or more broadly, how do we think about institutional conscience when the ground level decisions are mediated by individual choices?
(I have no idea how to answer any of these questions. This is really just a prod to Susan, to put out more of her thoughts – the program’s question and answer period was terrific).
In response to Rick's post, my 2005 piece posted at the side, The Evils of Elasticity: Reflections on the Rhetoric of Professionalism and the Part Time Paradox in Large Firm Practice digs at some of these issues in part by working through a text from CS Lewis's That Hiddeous Strength. Folks may also be intersted in Cathy Kaveny's Billable Hours in Ordinary Time 33 Loy. U. Chicago L. J. 173 (2001). For my Catholic Social Thought & Economic Justice seminar I'm pairing that with our discussion of Laborem Exercens. Here's the abstract of the "Evils" essay:
“Don’t do it, it is professional suicide.”This is the wise advice that most associates would receive in response to the question of whether they should open a conversation about a “less money for less hours” option in a large firm practice context.Why are large firms so resistant to creative conversations about part-time arrangements?At first glance part-time arrangements might seem inconsistent with large firm client demands.But a closer analysis reveals that a matter of sensible management, working “less money for less hours” is often perfectly consistent with outstanding client service.
Why do so many law firms resist this logic?This Article argues that lurking beneath the rhetoric is, in C.S. Lewis’s terms, the evil of “elasticity,” in which the all-consuming demands of the workplace gradually corrode hope for a more harmonious and balanced life.Understanding this influence not only helps explain the resistance of law firms but offers a way to engage in creative and productive conversations about “work-life” balance, including a helpful clarification of concepts in professional rhetoric such as “calling” or “vocation,” “commitment,” and “service.”
The Article concludes with a reflection on A.O. Hirschman’s scheme of “exit, voice and loyalty.” It proposes that the request for a part-time schedule should be interpreted neither as exit, nor as an act of disloyalty to the firm or the profession, but rather as a “voice” ofcreativity and hope for a balanced life.Large firms that welcome the “voice” of attorneys with part-time arrangements may be surprised to find that they may offer not only loyal client service, but also constructive contributions to the recovery of positive professional values.
"From car parts makers to fast food chains to financial service companies, corporations across the country are bringing chaplains into the workplace. At most companies, the chaplaincy resembles the military model, which calls for chaplains to serve the religiously diverse community before them, not to evangelize."
It would be interesting to probe the working definition of "evangelization" - apparently it would not embrace the featured pastor's description of his work at a Tyson's chicken processing plant: "I treat everyone the same and my hope is that they will see in me the love of God."
I have posted under my name at the side a draft of my Scarpa Conference essay, “Reconciling Evangelization and Dialogue through Love of Neighbor.”It begins with a brief analysis of the controversy generated by Pope Benedict’s Regensburg address, and then proceeds to explore one of the tensions with sparked such intense reactions—the difficulty in reconciling robust focus on Christian identity (evangelization) with a careful attention to the sensitivities and sensibilities of people of other religions (dialogue).Drawing on elements in John Paul II’s “missionary spirituality” as outlined in Redemptoris Missio (1990), it explores the extent to which evangelization and dialogue might be reconciled through the imitation of the self-emptying, universal and concrete love of Christ.It then describes a few “witnesses” of this kind of love in action in politics and law.I’d welcome your feedback (and many many thanks to several of you for taking the time for in depth conversations about the draft).It will be published by the Villanova Law Review together with the essays by Rick Garnett, Patrick Brennan and Avery Cardinal Dulles.Thanks again to Patrick for putting together such a terrific event. Amy
First, thank you, Robby, for this deeply engaging and thought-provoking conversation.
I agree that understanding and defining abortion as a moral tragedy is not a distinctive of a “pro-life” position.I also agree with your richer articulation of the first point of agreement between pro-life republicans and pro-life democrats.I’m continuing to digest your description, and so will come back to this in a later post.
In this post I’d like to continue with the abortion as a moral tragedy point.I wonder if I might classify that as a preface to the discussion of more complex points of agreement.The reason that I keep coming back to this is because I think this preface might have important consequences for the tenor and the analysis of our search for points of agreement.
Regarding the tenor of the discussion: I wonder what would happen if everyone were to keep in mind that many people—both pro-choice and pro-life—agreethat abortion is a moral tragedy, that it is not a good thing (and even a morally bad one), and that they wish that women contemplating abortion would choose a different option.I think it might have important consequences for how we talk with each other, and especially how we characterize each others’ arguments.
Thinking about the broader political debate (not this particular conversation, which I find very respectful and cordial), I think recognizing this point of agreement might help us to move away from a certain reductionism (e.g., democrats don’t care about unborn babies, and republicans don’t care about poor people).In and of itself, this could be a very helpful contribution that could help us to focus on the substantive points of disagreement.
OK, so say we agree on the point that abortion is a moral tragedy.This brings to mind a further substantive question: what happens, then, to the discussion about abortion as an intrinsic evil?
I’m not sure I can make this leap.But it seems that if the real heart of disagreement is not on the morality of abortion, and noton the question of whether the problem is extremely weighty, but on what we do about it, how we think about the social and legal tools for dealing with this evil—all essentially prudential political questions--then the “intrinsic evil” categorization becomes something of a non-sequetur in the conversation. The fact that abortion is an intrinsic evil does not resolve the fact that we still need to deal with prudential questions surrounding what to do about it, and on those there will be legitimate political debate.
Robby, I want to emphasize that I am genuinely struggling with these questions.I find the level of political polarization in the Church on this issue, and on other topics, deeply troubling and extremely painful, as I have written about here.As I blogged during the 2004 election here and here, I found the question of the connection between intrinsic evil and voting deeply problematic.
As many of you know, I am not shy about identifying myself as pro-life.But I am also deeply concerned about finding creative ways to heal international conflicts and solutions for international and domestic poverty—and based on deep reflection on Catholic Social Thought principles, I find myself drawn to approaches that might be closer to a democratic party line.So for me the viability of a pro-life democratic position is personally important.This is why I am very grateful for this kind of exchange.Amy
Thanks for your lastest posting explaining why you are presenting as a point of agreement between pro-life Democrats and Republicans the proposition that abortion is a moral tragedy.
One problem, as I see it, is that the shared belief that abortion is a tragedy, and even a moral tragedy, is a point of agreement between pro-lifers (irrespective of party) and most people (though, to be sure, not all) who regard themselves as pro-choice. I know almost no one that believes that abortion is a good thing. Most pro-choice politicians and many activists even go so far as to say that they are "personally" opposed to abortion. (I don't know a single Catholic pro-choice politician who fails to say this or something very much like it.) Such people oppose abortion, even while supporting its legality and in most cases even claiming that abortion is a woman's right, because (one must assume) they regard it as not a good thing. They wish, no doubt sincerely, that women contemplating abortion would choose a different option.
To say that abortion is a "moral tragedy," and to mean by saying it that abortion is not to be taken lightly and, indeed, that it is not a good thing (and even a morally bad one), is not necessarily to embrace the pro-life position. What makes pro-life Democrats (like Ben Nelson) pro-life, and distinguishes them from their self-identified pro-choice colleagues (like Teddy Kennedy), is that they say more than that. A central feature of what they perceive as bad about abortion--a feature with direct implications for the question of whether abortion may legitimately be permitted by a political society--is that abortion is a grave injustice against a vulnerable member of the human community. So, they believe, not only is it the case that there is no right to abortion; the child in the womb has a right to be protected by public authority against deliberate acts of violence.
In my own experience with pro-life Democrats (for many years I was one of the breed myself), they don't disagree with pro-life Republicans about the injustice of abortion or the right of the unborn child to legal protection against direct killing or other forms of unjust homicide. So the fundamental point of agreement is much richer than what is captured by the idea that abortion is a moral tragedy.
Perhaps it will illuminate things to consider how (1) pro-choicers (of either party), (2) pro-life Republicans, and (3) pro-life Democrats would respond to the following question: Is the embryonic or fetal offspring of human parents a human being possessing inherent dignity and a corresponding human right to the equal protection of the laws? Pro-choicers would say "no." (Some would say--absurdly--that the human embryo or fetus is not yet alive; others would say--almost equally absurdly--that the embryo or fetus, though a living being, is not yet human; still others would say--incorrectly, in my view, though not absurdly--that the embryo or fetus, though a living human being--i.e. an individual member of the species Homo sapiens--is not yet a "person" bearing a right to life. A few would say, with the philosopher Judith Thomson, that the fetus is, or may well be, a person with a right to life, but may legitimately be evicted by a pregnant woman from her body as a sort of uninvited guest, even if fetal death is a certain consequence.) Pro-life Republicans would give the opposite answer: they would say "yes." How would pro-life Democrats come down? Would they answer "no" or "yes"? (Note that the question--the central question dividing those of us who are pro-life from those who are pro-choice--logically does not admit of a third possible answer; if the answer is anything other than "yes," it must be "no.") My guess is that most pro-life Democrats would say "yes." I would be surprised if there are many self-identified pro-life Democrats who would answer the question by denying that the child in the womb is anything less than a human being with equal fundamental human rights.
I think that many, if not most, pro-life Democrats would agree with pro-life Democrat (and Notre Dame dean) Mark Roche, who argued (in an article written, ironically, to encourage Catholics to support pro-choice Democratic presidential nominee John Kerry) that "history will judge our society's support of abortion in much the same way we view earlier generations' support of torture and slavery - it will be universally condemned." We condemn earlier generations' support for slavery not (merely) as a moral tragedy, but as a grave injustice of extraordinary magnitude. In the days of slavery, however, there were people who were personally opposed to slaveholding, and who would not themselves own slaves, who nevertheless supported "the peculiar institution" as a "necessary evil" or a "tragic necessity." (Indeed, there were even some slaveholders--such as Jefferson--who viewed slavery as a moral tragedy.) Of course, those who held this position could not be counted as abolitionists or supporters of racial equality. (Some, I'm sure, hoped for the day when social conditions and economic developments would cause slavery's extinction. Among these, perhaps, were people who favored economic reforms and other public policies aimed at eliminating the cause of slavery without using the corecive force of the law to ban it.) At the same time, among those of whatever party who fully believed in racial equality and who viewed slavery as a profound injustice that no decent polity could permit, it would not capture their fundamental point of agreement to say that they shared the view that slavery was a "moral tragedy." As in the case of pro-life Democrats and pro-life Republicans today, their fundamental agreement was, I believe, richer than what is captured in that phrase.
