The following is today’s instalment of my biweekly column, Deliberation, for Capital Commentary, published by the Center for Public Justice:
More than half a century ago the great American journalist Walter Lippmann, in grappling with the dilemmas of democracy, urged the recovery of a public philosophy rooted in traditions of civility. Last week in this space Michael Gerson gave readers Two Reasons for Civility, averring that its firmest foundation comes from a general belief that human beings are created in God’s image. This, he claimed, is the basis on which the founders crafted their balanced constitutional system.
However, the founders’ efforts would have come to naught if the American people themselves had not already cultivated traditions of civility in their thirteen political bodies in the run-up to the outbreak of the War for Independence. These in turn were inherited largely from the centuries-old English constitution with its roots extending back at least to Magna Carta in 1215 and embodied in the principles of the Common Law.
This underscores the huge importance of what political scientists call political culture and what the classic political philosophers called the constitution, with a small “c.” A constitution in this larger sense is more than just a scrap of paper. It embodies not only the existing political institutions but the attitudes carried in the hearts of the people towards such intangibles as respect for authority, the rule of law, styles of political leadership and tolerance of corruption. This unwritten constitution is more enduring than a document that might bear that title. It would not be inaccurate to conclude that the American small-c constitution is much older than the document titled the Constitution of the United States of America, the latter of which could not exist without the former.
The true genius of the American constitution lies, not with the founders, astute though they may have been, but with the people themselves. Had the traditions of civility not already been a part of this constitution, all the good intentions of the architects of the Constitution would have fallen flat. Examples of this are not difficult to find. After the outbreak of revolution in 1789 France underwent multiple régime changes. Its paper constitutions were so short-lived that one observer has called them “periodical literature.” Yet its small-c constitution, with its centuries-old tradition of strong unitary government capped by a powerful executive, has been more durable, eventually culminating in the institutions of the Fifth Republic, in effect since 1958.
At the moment we are facing what appears to be a revolution in Egypt that will have repercussions throughout North Africa and the Middle East. To champion democratic reforms in that country seems a sensible policy for the United States to pursue. Clearly the foreign policy “realists” who support a dictator simply because he is “our” dictator are asking for trouble over the long term as the people in the street take matters into their own hands.
Nevertheless, building democracy in the region is no simple matter, as institutions require the living traditions of civility rooted in a longstanding small-c constitution. The notion that we can simply transplant institutions that flourish in one environment into a less hospitable one stands in strong need of a reality check. Successfully channelling street protests into orderly public participation at the polls is by no means assured. Political cultures do not change that quickly.
This is not to say that we should give up hope. It is to say that finely-tuned institutions cannot by themselves create a political culture of civility. To do this requires hard work on the part of the people themselves, probably starting at the local level and working with the existing institutions of civil society. Change may come over many years—perhaps generations—but it will require more than a measure of patience on everyone’s part.
February 5th, 2011 | 1:08 pm | #1
Is civility simply a matter of formal politeness, or do you have a richer conception of it?
Is civility, so understood, a moral or political duty, or is it rather just an ideal?
February 5th, 2011 | 6:40 pm | #2
Much richer than mere formal politeness. And, no, it’s not merely an ideal. By civility I have in mind something approximating Aristotle’s notion of civic friendship (Nicomachean Ethics 8), viz., a certain affective bond that holds the community together. It presupposes a high level of public trust across kinship boundaries enabling people to co-operate on common social, economic and political endeavours without inordinate fear that they will be taken advantage of in the process. You might wish to take a look at Robert Putnam’s fascinating study, Making Democracy Work: Civic Traditions in Modern Italy, to get a sense of what I have in mind.
Among other things it implies a willingness to talk out one’s differences and to abide by decisions made in the ordinary policy-making process; general respect for the rule of law, including constitutional principles; the notion of loyal opposition; tolerance of different viewpoints within the political arena; a willingness to compromise; and honesty and lack of corruption.
Obviously there can be no expectation of perfection in any of these. Due to human sin, corruption is found everywhere, but to greater and lesser degrees. By the way, one might add here that a certain patience with human imperfections may also be an important component of civility.
These qualities ought not be taken for granted, because they are absent in so much of the world.
February 7th, 2011 | 11:27 am | #3
Mr. Koyzis,
Thank you for your generous reply and book recommendation.
I wonder, however, if you think that this affective bond, high level of public trust, and cooperation requires any substantial willingness on our part, as individuals, to constrain the ways we wield our political power against one another in voting. In the United States, we often seem to approach voting simply as a means of expressing/enforcing either our own self-interests or our own ideological views (views which we can’t really reasonably demand others to endorse). When the stakes are high (as in the big culture war issues, like abortion and gay marriage) it’s unclear to me how real civic harmony can survive, and not rather devolve into a power struggle for individual freedoms and ideological views, merely cloaked in democratic procedures.
I’m interested to hear your thoughts on this.
February 7th, 2011 | 2:42 pm | #4
Thanks for this article. It amazes me how many of our public officials reduce political societies to the political institutions that govern them with no consideration for the priority of their underlying cultural contexts. You can not constitutionally design your way to a stable, democratic, peaceful, civil, free, political society. It must be done as much from the bottom (culturally) as form the top (politically). Western political notions affirming individual freedom, democratic norms, constitutionalism, and even separation of church and state, were not decreed to us by secular enlightenment thinkers, they were organically developed within a Christian foundation permeated all of culture. I remain skeptical that these values and institutions can work for long apart from a major reform in worldview in the Middle East.
February 7th, 2011 | 10:26 pm | #5
Mr. Ehrlich, I do not believe that civility requires us to refrain from expressing our strongly held views on what is genuinely in the public interest. In fact, I should think it assumes that we do the opposite. After all, the political process is precisely the forum where we attempt to persuade our fellow citizens of the justice of our respective causes. However, after we have expressed our views, whether at the polls or in some other fashion, we should be prepared for the possibility — indeed probability — that we will not win the day, or at least not entirely. This doesn’t mean we have to alter our views or pretend for public purposes that we do not have such views. We should not cut short the deliberative process prematurely. However, for the sake of living peacefully with our opponents, we may have to settle for less than we might like.
Troy, I share your scepticism, although I wish I did not!
February 7th, 2011 | 11:42 pm | #6
Mr. Koyzis, while I mostly agree with what you’ve said, it wasn’t quite an answer to my questions. It’s one thing to simply express our views to one another as private citizens and to argue for them; it’s quite another thing to wield our political power against our fellow citizens as a way of forcing them to conform to our own ideological values–disregarding the fact that we cannot reasonably expect our fellow citizens to accept those values. When the stakes are high, the latter sort of behavior would seem to undermine any prospect for the robust vision of civility you describe.
Or, if you think otherwise, please try to explain.
February 8th, 2011 | 9:03 am | #7
I seem to recall something Mary Ann Glendon wrote in First Things several years ago on this very subject. As citizens, she said, we do not impose; we propose. Indeed we ourselves do not have the power to impose anything on anyone. On the other hand, our political authorities definitely have the power to enforce their decisions, which is part of the definition of government. Those decisions are never neutral; they inevitably flow out of someone’s ultimate commitments. This is why, as you acknowledge, the stakes are so high.
We may propose a certain definition of marriage; others may disagree. All sides have the right to propose their own approach to settling the issue. Government will necessarily have to come to a decision, which, whatever it is, will impose at least inconvenience on those who disagree.
Some will argue that marriage, as a basic human institution, is not the creation of government, which cannot therefore redefine it at will. Others taking a more contractual view of marriage think government ought to recognize other than heterosexual unions as marriages. Both argue their respective positions in the sincere belief that they are in accordance with justice. Government cannot avoid taking a position on the matter. If it decides in favour of an institutional view of marriage, it imposes on those who wish to see their own nonheterosexual unions so recognized. If it takes a contractual approach to marriage, it risks infringing on the freedom — especially religious freedom — of those who sincerely believe what scripture teaches about marriage.
Now what is likely to happen in many jurisdictions is that government will try to give something to both sides, who thus have to be willing to live with the compromise. For example, it might recognize civil unions rather than marriages as such. Neither side will be fully satisfied and will have reason, within the framework of their own worldviews, to think that full justice has not been done. They will not necessarily change their strong views of the issue, but they will nevertheless do their best to live with the decision. If it becomes obvious over the course of time that an injustice has indeed been done, the issue may be reopened, but always in a way that sees opponents respecting each other and their good intentions. That’s civility. When people begin to demonize their opponents and threaten too quickly to take to the streets, then we will have cause for concern.
I hope this is helpful.
February 8th, 2011 | 11:54 am | #8
Mr. Koyzis,
In a democracy, civility may be more of a duty of ordinary, individual citizens than your last comment seems to suggest.
I think you have to agree that there’s a big difference between (a) opinion polls, argumentation, or tentative policy proposals, and (b) a vote to democratically enact legislation, whether directly or through our elected representatives. In the former, we make our views known and we try to justify them to one another; in the latter, we make our views into laws, forcing others to conform to our views through the power of the state.
While there are certainly ways to violate civility in the former activity (misrepresenting one’s political opposition, leveraging your audience’s fears and prejudices for rhetorical advantage, etc.), it’s the latter activity that I’ve been calling attention to. The latter activity may require a special sort of restraint if we are to achieve the substantive vision of civility you’ve so nicely characterized. Here I’m thinking of voluntary restraint from individuals on all sides when the stakes are truly high. The effect would be a public acknowledgement of a limitation on the sorts of laws we can legitimately try to impose on our fellow citizens: as a duty of civility, we mustn’t try to coerce our fellow citizens into conformity with own ideological views when we cannot reasonably expect them to accept our views–at least when the stakes for them are high. To do otherwise is an illegitimate use of the political power we wield in our votes–a usage that violates a requirement of civility.
I wonder if you agree.
February 8th, 2011 | 12:13 pm | #9
Mr. Ehrlich:
It would be helpful if you could give an example or two of what you have in mind. I believe there are certain laws that the state has no business making, e.g., it should not be setting doctrine for a church body or punishing heresy through its power of the sword. It should not be enforcing parental discipline of minor children. Are these the sorts of limits you are thinking of?
February 8th, 2011 | 12:17 pm | #10
David T. Koyzis: I think that people fail to recognize the importance of moral authority, or legitimacy.
The law in itself is worth very little if it lacks legitimacy. Remember the song “I Can’t Drive 55″ by Sammy Hagar? Who didn’t think that was funny? It was funny precisely because ot seemed like such a ridiculous law: who drives 55?
Sociological studies on law enforcement have affirmed that legitimacy is what distinguishes an enforceable law from a bad one. In nations or neighborhoods where citizens cooperate with the police, crime is low.
Gangs cannot exist in neighborhoods where the citizens cooperate with police; citizens cooperate with police when they trust the police; citizens trust the police when police authority is perceived as authority which is used for legitimate, not abusive, purposes.
In the case of gay marriage, as in all civil rights arguments, it will eventually be the people who decide.
When we speak of the civil rights movement of the mid-20th century, people like to talk about the use of power – judicial, legal, military – but really the reason those uses of power were effective is because of how those uses of power influenced public opinion. If the images that came from those uses of power had gone the other way – suggesting that the black people were causing moral outrage against the basic rights of the whites instead of the other way around – the outcome would have been different.
Passing a law does not have the ability to settle an issue. First side in the abortion debate to reach the “tipping point” (probably around 80%) will win. Until then, the issue will not go away and keeping the laws where they are at will continue to require huge expenditures of energy.
This is why it’s so ironic that the same people who are talking most about “civility” are the ones who don’t really want to have the sort of political debate that has the power to actually persuade or settle anything. They want to get laws passed by going around the people, not by engaging the people, and when they speak of “civility” they really use it as a sort of code word where “be civil” means “be quiet”. When you are counting on judicial re-interpretation and/or backroom political dealings to get your “rights” codified into law, you don’t want discussion, you want “civility”.
February 8th, 2011 | 11:16 pm | #11
Mr. Koyzis,
There are probably several good reasons why the state shouldn’t be setting doctrine for a church body, punishing heresy through its power of the sword, or enforcing a peculiar form of parental discipline of minor children. But, without denying these other potential reasons, we can add this one: an individual citizen has a decisive reason of civility not to vote on a referendum to enact any such law. This is because such laws curtail individual liberties of a sort we all have reason to deeply value, and they do so on grounds that we cannot reasonably expect those affected by such laws to accept. (If this last claim is doubted, we can try to articulate the justifications for such laws and then re-assess the matter.)
Such a reason reflects the plausible preconditions of the civility you describe. The general idea, again, is that a proper regard for civility places normative restrictions on how we, as individuals, wield our political power against one another in a democracy such as find in the U.S.
February 9th, 2011 | 9:34 am | #12
Once again, Mr. Ehrlich, I would appreciate your providing an example of what you have in mind. Otherwise it’s difficult for me to know how to address your concern. Thanks.
February 9th, 2011 | 10:05 am | #13
I just confirmed your three examples. We could look at the potential justifications of any of those three; I’m not sure else you’re looking for.
The questions I’ve raised aren’t about any particular example, but rather concern a general normative constraint on the attempts to impose laws upon one another, which seems necessary in a pluralistic democracy if we are to achieve the sort of civility you envision.
Perhaps it would help if you tell me what it is you are looking for in seeking a fourth example.
February 9th, 2011 | 10:42 am | #14
I’ve reread your comment # 11 and I’ll try to address what you say. I think we’re running up against the limits of this sort of forum, but I’ll do my best.
The crucial issue for me is one of authority. (I’m writing a book on the topic, so this is something on which I’ve reflected quite a lot.) The state goes beyond its legitimate authority in attempting to set doctrinal standards for an ecclesial body, to punish heresy or to enforce parental discipline. Likewise, office bearers in the institutional church should not instruct governments how to make policy, except perhaps for reminding them of broad principles of justice on which scripture is clear.
Similarly, I would argue that the individual person also has an exclusive sphere of competence, i.e., authority, within which other authorities ought not to interfere. As instructor in the classroom, I can tell my students to take a midterm exam this afternoon (which they will indeed do), but I cannot tell them what to eat for supper this evening or whom to marry. Both of these would have me exceeding the legitimate sphere of teaching authority. Call this freedom if you will, but it’s really another form of authority to be balanced against other authorities.
I believe the sorts of constraints you envision are what most constitutions provide for in their bills or charters of rights of the citizens. These are positioned beyond ordinary deliberative discourse and are presupposed by the larger political process. Thus citizens cannot vote to end freedom of speech or the press, for example, because these are enshrined in “the supreme law of the land,” as the US Constitution calls itself.
My basic confession is that all authority comes from God, who has placed limits on every manifestation of authority. This is what I bring to an understanding of politics.
I think you’re getting at the distinction between constitutional law and ordinary statutes. Is this what you have in mind, Mr. Ehrlich? I’m sorry if I’m being obtuse here. I have been battling a virus for the past day or so, and things haven’t been connecting for me easily in that time.
February 10th, 2011 | 11:35 am | #15
Mr. Koyzis,
I again appreciate your thoughtful and generous reply–especially considering the venue and the virus.
While your authority idea seems promising for those issues for which we can agree to defer to experts (and for which the experts agree with each other), or for which we can agree upon the domains and divisions of authority (whether because we all endorse a religion that defines such domains, or because we simply agree), I’d be concerned about the theist who, supposing that the contours of authority are defined by God, has rather peculiar views about these matters–views which he can’t reasonably expect others to accept. Should such peculiar views win by majority vote, is it just tough luck for those who don’t share these ideologically defined conceptions of authority?
I suggest, rather, that–if we’re to take your robust conception of civility seriously–we need a restriction on state power (and our individual uses of it against one another) that is essentially independent from the ideologies we cannot reasonably expect our fellow citizens to accept.
February 10th, 2011 | 1:28 pm | #16
Ah, now we’re getting somewhere. I think our cards are finally on the table. Quite simply, Mr. Ehrlich, what you are asking for is an impossibility. Whatever we might propose to come up with as a restriction on state power would inevitably be rooted in our ultimate commitments, with which we cannot necessarily expect others to agree.
John Rawls tried in vain to come up with a way to do precisely what you are looking for by appealing to an hypothetical original position of equality in which all participants, behind a veil of ignorance to guarantee their apparent neutrality, choose the principles of justice applicable to all. As it turns out, of course, Rawls’ own approach is based on a “thick” comprehensive doctrine concerning the good, even as he denies it. Since the publication of his A Theory of Justice in 1971, numerous critics have pointed this out.
This does not mean that our respective worldviews are entirely incommensurable. We can indeed talk with each other, but this is due, not to our having found a point of neutrality, but to God’s common grace given to all. We share God’s world irrespective of our different worldviews, and that world necessarily impresses itself on us, whether we acknowledge it or not. This is where we find hope for some form of agreement.
As for placing limits on the state, any limits we come up with will be rooted in a basic conviction of what the state is for and properly does. This is in turn rooted in a worldview in which the state finds a place. There is simply no way to get beyond such worldviews.
Any conceptions of civility we have will inevitably be rooted in some community’s conception of the good, which is conditioned by its basic religious beliefs.
February 10th, 2011 | 2:17 pm | #17
In certain respects, what you say may be entirely true:
However, insofar as these claims are true, they’re not quite relevant to the issue at hand, nor do they constitute an apt criticism of Rawls. Rawls wrote of grounding a conception of justice in what he called “reasonable overlapping consensus” (where “reasonable” leaves some room for not having to accommodate those ideologies which don’t meet the most minimal requirements of rationality, or which reject the shared goal of civility and the view of individual citizens as “free and equal” in a minimal, normative sense).
Substantive restrictions on how individuals use coercive state power against one another can indeed be plausibly justified in terms of reasonable overlapping consensus. In that sense, such restrictions would be essentially independent from the ideologies we cannot reasonably expect our fellow citizens to accept. None of this, of course, does entails any claims about what is “necessarily” the case, nor does it deny that some elements of our reasonable overlapping consensus are also part of some people’s “ultimate commitments.”
February 10th, 2011 | 4:00 pm | #18
Rawls may be on to something with his notion of the overlapping consensus, but the notion that this is somehow independent of the worldviews (or ideologies, if you prefer) held by the participants in the political process is itself rooted in a particular “thick” account of the human person and of the good for that person. Once again not everyone will accept this. I myself do not believe this is an adequate foundation for political order, because it is based on an intellectual sleight of hand that amounts to this: You must agree to constrain your thick account of the human good, while mine will play the role of impartial arbiter. There is nothing neutral about Rawls’ affirmation of the principles of liberty and equality embodied in his notion of justice as fairness. As I see it, it functions more like Plato’s myth of the metals in that it depends more on people believing its highly disputable claims than on any correspondence to anything called truth or justice. Rawls will be of little help to us, I’m afraid.
February 11th, 2011 | 12:13 am | #19
If there’s something that’s “rooted in a particular ‘thick’ account of the human person and of the good for that person,” it’s not the bare concept of overlapping consensus. And, while some parties may obviously dislike the idea of grounding our terms of cooperation in values everyone shares, it’s less obvious how they can regard themselves as respectfully cooperative if they reject that idea. So, when the ideologue insists upon rejecting such terms simply because he’d prefer to have his own ideology dominate, he simply seems to be oblivious to the problem confronting all of us: everyone can play the ideologue’s game (the liberal included), and its predictable end will not be respectful , civic cooperation.
Think of it this way. Suppose three guys have to share an apartment. Each is used to having his way, but now this has become impossible; they have to decide on rules. One of the guys makes a proposal: in deciding how to share this apartment, let’s avoid making really serious rules that we can’t reasonably expect each guy to accept. Now, if one of the other two roommates immediately objects to this proposal , we rightly wonder why. If the only reason he can give us is that the proposal is what the first roommate regards as a good idea (and so it seems to already bias the deliberation in the first roommate’s favor), then this should strike everyone as a very poor objection.
But that seems to be exactly the sort of objection that one often hears of Rawls. I hope that’s not the objection you are suggesting.
February 11th, 2011 | 7:13 am | #20
No, that’s not what I’m suggesting. My objection to Rawls is that he is pretending that his own thick account of the human person is nothing of the sort, viz., he is not being honest with us and perhaps not even with himself.
February 11th, 2011 | 9:56 am | #21
Do you have one or two examples of this? I’d be especially interested to hear examples that are essential to the theory (as opposed to mere passing remarks, or (mis)applications of a framework).
February 11th, 2011 | 12:18 pm | #22
Examples can be found in Amy Gutmann and Dennis Thompson, Democracy and Disagreement, (Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1986), which I reviewed for Calvin Theological Journal a dozen years ago. They explicitly follow a Rawlsian approach, which I criticize in my review, posted here. I think their moderate pro-choice position on the abortion question is an example of this sleight of hand in that they privilege their own conception of basic liberty over expressed legitimate concerns for the lives of the unborn. Here’s an excerpt from my review:
Of course, if they were willing to admit that their own principles were as ideologically laden as those of the “moralists”, their case would collapse. This is why I cannot follow the Rawlsian approach and believe it is a nonstarter.
February 12th, 2011 | 12:09 pm | #23
I’m left wondering if you are simply objecting to a particular application of a liberal/Rawlsian criterian, rather than to the criterion itself.
Regarding deeply valued individual liberties, it’s hard to believe that there’s not a good deal of reasonable overlapping consensus shared between American Christians and Americans of other persuasions. To characterize such liberties, we might look to the “public political culture,” or we might consider the sorts of liberties that anybody would have good reason to value simply as a citizen with a propensity to develop and to deeply value our own beliefs, commitments, and ways of life.
Rawls, as I understand, proposed a way that a set of such liberties might be characterized independently of the biases which ordinarily hinder us from reaching a reasonable consensus on such things—namely each person or group’s bias of favoring their own particular “conception of the good” or “comprehensive doctrine.” Rawls proposed that we think about the sorts of liberties we would prioritize if we didn’t know which such views and commitments we would have (within, of course, the range of the reasonable). Deliberation behind this veil of ignorance leads, plausibly enough, to substantial set of prioritized individual liberties.
I call these ideas to mind simply to help me locate your point of disagreement (I’m not supposing that any of this is new to you). I see three really significantly distinct places where you might objecting. Here they are in order of decreasing ambition:
1. You might be rejecting the idea that we should prioritize the sorts of individual liberties that each of us would have a good reason to deeply value simply as citizens with a propensity to develop and to deeply value our own beliefs, commitments, and ways of life—where such a prioritization places a significant burden of justification upon anyone wishing to constrain such liberties of others via state power.
2. You might be rejecting the idea that the veil of ignorance removes (only) our politically illegitimate biases in characterizing these prioritized liberties.
3. You might be simply rejecting the idea that liberties relevant to a woman’s choice to have an abortion are among that set of prioritized liberties (even though the veil of ignorance may be a good tool for reasonably characterizing those liberties).
February 12th, 2011 | 3:49 pm | #24
Mr. Ehrlich, my objection is not to a few features of Rawls’ project but to the project itself, including his original position of equality and the veil of ignorance, which are no more plausible than the early liberals’ state of nature. There is simply no way that flesh and blood persons can divorce their reasoning capacities from their thick commitments to some vision of the good. Rawls’ endeavour is inevitably coloured by his own ultimate commitment, viz., to a certain conception of liberty and equality as essential to human flourishing.
Yes, there is a large measure of agreement amongst citizens otherwise differing in their basic worldviews, but once again this is due to our common status as God’s image-bearers and not to our supposed ability to think without reference to these worldviews.
February 12th, 2011 | 10:09 pm | #25
Your last objections seem to indicate confusion. But perhaps you will clarify.
Your statement here seems either trivial true and irrelevant, or obviously false. When you are solving a mathematical equation, is your reasoning capacity divorced from your “thick commitments to some vision of the good?” If so, then your above claim may be trivially true, and yet irrelevant to criticizing Rawls. If not, then your above statement is clearly false.
But so what? It is no objection to Rawls to say say that some elements of his proposal are motivated by his own ultimate commitments. As suggested earlier, it should be obvious that the reasonable overlapping consensus needn’t be purged of all elements that also happen to comprise someone or other’s “ultimate commitment.” It would be a complete confusion to object to a liberal theory of fairness simply because some people happen to be ultimately committed to that theory. (Think back on the suspicious roommate’s objection in the earlier comment.)
If, however, there is some truly illegitimate bias in Rawls’ argument, it would be best just to identify the precise content of that bias and to locate exactly where it enters the argument. I was attempting to help you in this direction by distinguishing three distinct stages at which you might object.
Finally, suppose it is true that the “large measure of agreement amongst citizens” is “due to our common status as God’s image-bearers”. Are you suggesting that it is unreasonable to suppose otherwise? If not, then I’m curious as to why you think that your claim here is relevant.
February 12th, 2011 | 11:16 pm | #26
In regard to the abortion problem, it seems to me that rather than focussing on stopping any and all women, each an individual with a baby, the problem is to rigourously constrain the abotion industry, and police the nodes at which agents of that industry coerce women into abortions about which they have not (yet perhaps) attained surety.
But to have the state power invade any given woman’s womb and life to prevent the abortion of her child at a decent time before scheduled birth, seems to me a statist ideological invasion of the sphere of her responsiblity as to whether or not to give birth. Obviously, I do not subscribe to the Roman Catholic Church’s “consistent ethics of life” or the stigmatization of those women who do choose to abort.
Pope Benedict has finally come to terms with the fact that the Church has lost a lot of power over women by conceding that birth control and condoms have a place in the non/reproductive plans of Catholic couples. But all the misery this magisterial doctrine has caused in the meanwhyld! The whole conceptual appartus of this “ethics” is too biotistic and too Aristotelian for me. The woman making the choice needs no Aristotle; the existentialists give a better environment in which she may want to think.
The woman may be given a chance to apply to a judge (with expedited time-arrangements) to be heard — say, against her husband, her parents, her other children (if any), the hospital, the doctor/s, even the state. She may need restraining orders against any and all of them. Her think-thru with a judge may allow her to make a choice for carrying the child to term, or to make the choice to abort. There’s a time for everything, for this woman to have a(nother) child, or not.
February 12th, 2011 | 11:44 pm | #27
I made a confusing typo. The sentence should read:
Also, while I meant the last comment to be clear and pointed, I didn’t mean for it to be combative. My aim was to press for clarity, since I don’t yet see a cogent position here.
February 17th, 2011 | 5:54 pm | #28
Yes, I understand that, Mr. Ehrlich. I’m sorry I haven’t responded to you in timely fashion, but I’ve not had the time to compose the sort of answer you are seeking. I do want to return to this topic, perhaps in another post, but at the moment I think I’m going to have to leave this thread hanging as I attend to other matters.
February 17th, 2011 | 11:17 pm | #29
Mr. Koyzis,
I appreciate your willingness to sustain the conversation this far. If and when you do have the opportunity, I’d be happy to see it continue. It’s a tough topic, and I value your challenges to my own underdeveloped ideas.
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