The Underground Thomist
Blog
“The Same as to Knowledge,” Part 6 of 14Thursday, 07-16-2015
Objections Concerning Psychopathy and IncoherencyObjection 3. If it were really true that everyone knows the general precepts of the moral law, then everyone who violated them would feel the pangs of conscience. But psychologists report that sociopaths and psychopaths have no conscience. To much the same effect, anthropologists commonly distinguish between guilt cultures, shame cultures, and fear cultures. Remorseful feelings are prominent only in guilt cultures. Psychologists who say that sociopaths and psychopaths lack conscience are confusing the judgment of conscience, an intellectual event, with the feeling of remorse, an emotional event. Again I would address the objector: Have you never had the experience of doing something you knew to be wrong, but not feeling bad about it? Sociopaths and psychopaths are not people who do not know their acts are wrong, but people who never feel bad about it. Even without guilty feelings, by the way, they do show signs of guilty knowledge. One young murderer who had been described by police as having no conscience confirmed to a reporter that he didn’t feel bad for what he had done. But after a moment he added, “There must be something wrong with me, don’t you think? Because I should.” The same point applies to so-called shame and fear cultures. There may be a great deal of cultural variation in the emotional reaction to guilty knowledge. We are not discussing whether everyone feels the same when he violates a known moral law, but whether everyone knows the moral law.* Objection 4. If St. Thomas is right, then anyone who denies knowledge of the general principles of the natural law must be self-deceived. But the notion of self-deception is incoherent, because it conceives of a single person as two persons, one of whom knows something, though the other is in the dark. It is as though I were to say that I am thinking about something, and at the same time that I am not thinking about it. Yes, the suggestion that one and the same mind can both know and not know something in the same sense at the same time is incoherent. However, the hypothesis that the denier really does know what he claims not to know can be developed without this dubious notion. St. Thomas would suggest, "Don't say that you are both thinking and yet not thinking about something, or thinking about it in what both is and yet is not your real mind. Rather say that you have one mind, but its operations are subtle and complex. Even when you are not actually thinking about something, you may be apt to think of it at any moment. To put it differently, even when the knowledge is not actualized in present awareness, you may possess it habitually. In the meantime, your mind may continue to be dispositionally influenced by it.” If this analysis is correct, then the distinction between unconscious and conscious knowledge which is so common today is perhaps best viewed as an unsuccessful attempt to get at something that St. Thomas’s own distinction, between habitual and actualized knowledge, gets at more successfully. Expressions like “self-deception” are best used in a figurative rather than in a literal sense. To be self-deceived does not mean that there are two of me. It means that although I have a dispositional tendency to be aware of something – a “natural habit,” as St. Thomas says -- I am resisting it; I am trying not to think about this something. Trying not to think about something is rather difficult. If that my aim, then I must school myself in the arts of self-distraction. In fact, in order to avoid thinking about one thing, I must regiment myself not to think of a large number of things which act as triggers for thinking about it. And let us not forget that the ever-increasing effort required to resist my dispositional tendency has dispositional consequences of its own – a point to which we will return. Link to Part 7 of 14 |
Divorcing the Church from Civil “Marriage”Tuesday, 07-14-2015
Note to puzzled readers:On the Teaching page, the brokenlink from here to here has beendiscovered and fixed.Question:You answered the Lutheran minister’s question about how to explain to his flock what is going on, but you didn’t answer an important related question. Some Christians propose that the Church “divorce” itself from civil marriage – that ministers stop signing civil marriage certificates – because marriage as the Church understands it and “marriage” as the state defines it no longer have anything to do with each other. What do you think of this? Reply:As I explained in my previous post, civil marriage has traditionally meant recognition by the state that a natural marriage exists. The advantage of such recognition is that the law can then enforce the duties of the spouses to their children and to each other. This was a good thing. Although it had nothing to do with religion per se – for the state was not interested in the sacrament – the state did accommodate the Church by allowing her ministers to file marriage certificates. This too was a good thing. Notice that it was a one-way relationship. In effect, the state said “If the Church says there is a natural marriage, we believe it.” But if the state said “There is no longer a marriage,” the Church was not required to believe it, and if the state said “The parties are qualified to marry,” the Church was not required to agree. Logically, one might think that would not have to change. In the past, the Church could say “Steve and Sally are not qualified to marry, so they may not participate in the marriage rites of the Church, and we will not certify to the state that a marriage exists.” Now, the Church can say “Steve and Ernest are not qualified to marry, so they may not marry in the Church, and we will not certify to the state that a marriage exists.” But I think it will change. Just because the state has abandoned the natural law, civil “marriage” now means nothing more than that state declares a certain sexual arrangement deserving of “esteem.” I think, therefore, that pressure will be applied the Church to either accept the state’s definition of the arrangements deserving of such "esteem" (which of course it cannot do), or lose its privilege of certifying to the state that a marriage exists. So the “divorce” you ask about will be forced upon the Church. At that point, the Church might or might not advise parties who become sacramentally married to have a civil marriage too. I expect that this decision would turn upon whether by that time civil marriage has any remaining connection with the legal enforcement of parental duties to the children. The way things are going, it probably won’t, since already the state’s definition of “marriage” has lost all connection with procreation. But we will see.
|
Little Story About Big StoryMonday, 07-13-2015
Monday, as always, is a student letter day. Comment:I really appreciated the discussion of postmodernism in your fictional Office Hours dialogue “The Big Story.” I am a second year graduate student in a liberal English department. Postmodernism is my teachers' favorite intellectual child. It has been a struggle to reconcile my academic work with my faith. “Office Hours” has given me a heartfelt look at the role Christians ought to be playing in the intellectual and university community. Reply:You're doing much better than I did in graduate school; I had already abandoned my faith and didn't return to it until I was out and teaching. So many things have changed since then; Christians are discovering each other in academia and reintegrating their faith with their scholarship. An ancient Christian saying is Unus Christianus, nullus Christianus -- “a sole Christian is no Christian.” That's no less true in academia than in any other walk of life. A number of Catholic and Protestant scholars have told their own stories. If it would give you a lift to read some of them, try Kelly Monroe Kullberg’s Finding God at Harvard: Spiritual Journeys of Thinking Christians. You can read the account of my own conversion here. Protestant, Catholic, and ecumenical scholarly associations also exist in many of the disciplines, and are easy to find online. Christians have begun to promote renewal in several academic fields. For example, two generations ago the philosophy of religion was dead and most philosophers took atheism for granted, but since then philosophy of religion has experienced a resurrection, most of its leading practitioners are theists, and most of the theists are persons of Christian faith. Our literary culture used to be Christian. Maybe you will be one of the pioneers in its rebirth! May the Father of Lights illuminate your intellect and set lamps on the path of your studies.
|
The Real Conversation StopperFriday, 07-10-2015
The most conspicuous feature of contemporary liberalism is intolerance and exclusion. To show how inclusive they are, liberals demonize those who aren’t liberal -- because those are the sorts of people who demonize, you see. To show how wrong it is to shut people up, they seek to make religious people shut up -- because we all know those are the kinds of people who want to shut people up. The highbrow spokesman for this wish is the late John Rawls, who wrote that “in discussing constitutional essentials and matters of basic justice we are not to appeal to comprehensive religious and philosophical doctrines.” Its pop culture spokesman is Sam Harris, who says human beings must choose between conversation and violence, and “faith is a conversation stopper.” The interesting thing about this view of conversation is that it is accepted without conversation. In fact, it functions – you guessed it -- as a conversation stopper. Being a religious person, I think we should have a conversation about it. Though both highbrow and lowbrow liberals want to ban the use of religious arguments in the public square, their reasons are different. Harris claims that persons of faith aren’t reasonable. They cannot give reasons for their views; they believe because they believe because they believe. To put it another way, Harris thinks all religion is fideistic. He writes like a burned-out fundamentalist who has lost his faith but still thinks faith and reason are opposites. Except for liberals, I meet very few fideists. The classical view of Christianity is that faith and reason are allies. As John Paul II put it, they are like the two wings of a bird. Rather than turning reason off, faith extends its possibilities. Rawls – who knew better than Harris -- never claimed that religious people can give no reasons for their views. His complaint was merely that other people may not accept these reasons: Public discussions “are to rest on plain truths now widely accepted, or available to citizens generally.” The argument seems to be that anyone who holds a view outside the mainstream has a duty to close his mouth. Such a person shouldn’t even be allowed to try to convince anyone of its truth in the public square. What are his followers afraid of? If the efforts of religious people to persuade non-religious people really are doomed to futility, what is to be lost by letting them try? One suspects that real liberal fear is that such efforts might not be doomed to futility after all, because liberalism has exhausted its own resources for rational persuasion and has nothing left but propaganda and force. It was a Christian who wrote, “Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously, by licensing and prohibiting, to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter?”
|
“The Same as to Knowledge,” Part 5 of 14Wednesday, 07-08-2015
Objections Concerning Tautologies and NazisEven if one concedes that St. Thomas means what I say he means when he claims that we all know the moral basics, it might be argued that his claim is simply wrong. Let us consider a few of the most likely objections. Objection 1. Perhaps in a manner of speaking everyone does “know” general moral principles such as “Don't murder,” but these principles are mere tautologies. For example, “murder” means merely “wrongful killing,” so “Don’t murder” means merely “Killing is wrong when it is wrong to kill.” All that we are really being told is that it is wrong to do what it is wrong to do. Concerning when it is wrong to do it, there is not even an approximate agreement.[9]. I suggest that the premise is untrue: There is an approximate agreement. People of widely diverse cultures more or less agree that the prohibition of murder is about the avoidance of deliberately taking innocent human life. This is the central tendency, to which the codes of particular cultures are better or worse approximations. Probably not even the cannibal thinks it is all right to deliberately take innocent human life. It is much more likely that he concedes the point but denies that the people in the other tribe are human (or perhaps that they are innocent). The objector might now claim that I have merely substituted an elaborate tautology for a simple one. He might say that “human” means merely “a being who is such that deliberately taking his life, when he is innocent, is wrong.” Therefore, my so-called agreement means no more than “It is wrong to deliberately take the lives of innocent beings whose lives, when they are innocent, it is wrong to take.” Yet this is not the case, for we also share implicit understandings about what counts as human. If we did not, then it would be impossible to argue with cannibals that their moral codes are defective. Yet experience shows that we can; various cannibal tribes have yielded to the persuasion of missionaries and other outsiders and given up their cannibalism. Consider too, that unless the cannibal knows deep down that the people in the other tribe are human, it is difficult to explain why he performs rituals for the expiation of guilt before taking their lives. Yet he does. Objection 2. If it were really true that everyone knows the general precepts of the moral law, then they would be more faithfully observed. Consider the Holocaust. Surely the Nazis did not know the wrong of deliberately taking innocent human life. I would address the objector directly: Haven’t you ever had the experience of doing something wrong even though you knew it was wrong? The monstrosity of the Nazis is not that they didn’t know the wrong of deliberately taking innocent human life, but that they knew it and rationalized it anyway. Nazi propaganda went to great lengths to depict Jews as bestial (not human) and criminal (not innocent). And yet even the Nazis knew better. Robert Jay Lifton reports on an interview with a former Wehrmacht neuropsychiatrist who had treated large numbers of death camp soldiers for psychological disorders. Their symptoms were much like those of combat troops, but they were worse and lasted longer. The men had the hardest time shooting women and children, especially children, and many of them had nightmares of punishment or retribution.[10] In our own country we find similar symptoms among people who practice our own “final solution,” the abortion trade. Notes9. See for instance the argument of Richard A. Posner, "The Problematics of Moral and Legal Theory," Harvard Law Review, Vol. 111 (1998), pp. 1637-1709.10. Robert Jay Lifton, The Nazi Doctors: Medical Killing and the Psychology of Genocide (New York: Basic Books, 1986), p. 15.Link to Part 6 of 14 |
Is Civil “Marriage” Still Marriage?Tuesday, 07-07-2015 |
Change of HeartMonday, 07-06-2015
Mondays are reserved for questions from readers, especially students. Question: If people have been raised to consider bad behavior morally acceptable, how can they ever come to recognize that it isn’t? Reply: The premise of your question is that the only way people know what is right and wrong is that they have been told. That’s what many psychologists think too. They view conscience as an empty vessel filled up by parental teaching and other forms of socialization. Your own experience will show you that conscience is more than that. If knowledge of right and wrong came only from how you were raised, you could never recognize a moral error. But haven’t you ever come to realize that something was morally wrong, even though nobody told you so? Haven’t you ever had a change of heart? Sure you have. Of course parental teaching does shape us, but we have, so to speak, a deep shape, which good teaching merely brings to the surface. No conceivable parental teaching could wipe out the fundamental recognition that wrong is different than right. No imaginable childhood socialization could pump the awareness of that difference into you if you couldn’t see it for yourself. There isn’t any way to raise a child so that he will hold the judgment “I should be grateful to those who have done me the most hurt, and ungrateful to those who have done me the most good.” Even if you don’t teach him the Golden Rule, at some level it will make sense to him that the rules of behavior should be the same for everyone. He will know that he shouldn’t steal or murder. By the way, I am not saying that everyone draws correct conclusions from first principles. Often we don’t. And I am not saying that everyone actually follows first principles. Often we don’t do that either. What I am saying is that everyone knows first principles. Even our excuses for bad behavior make use of them; we try to convince ourselves that our lies weren’t really lies, that our betrayals weren’t really betrayals, or that our mistreatment of others fulfilled justice because “they had coming to them.” Just because we do know first principles -- just because we do have deep conscience -- we have a fighting chance of correcting erroneous surface conscience. Of course it helps to have virtuous friends who will call us to account, but if we didn’t have the knowledge of first principles, how could their words get through to us? We wouldn’t grasp what they were talking about, would be? But we can be reached after all; we can see that we are wrong; we can even have a change of heart.
|






