Who Is My Ne ighbor?

Who Is My Ne ighbor? Personalism and the Foundations of Human Rights

Thomas D. Williams

The Catholic University of America Press Washington, D.C.

Copyright ©  Thomas D. Williams All rights reserved The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standards for Information Science—Permanence of Paper for Printed Library materials,  .-. ∞ Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Williams, Thomas D., LC Who is my neighbor? : personalism and the foundations of human rights / Thomas D. Williams. p. cm. Includes bibliographical references and index.  --- (alk. paper) . Human rights—Religious aspects—Catholic Church. . Natural law—Religious aspects—Catholic Church. . Neo-Scholasticism. . Personalism. I. Title. .  ´.—dc 

CO N TE N TS

Foreword by Mary Ann Glendon Introduction

vii xiii

PA RT O N E . R I G H TS I N T H E C RO S S H A I R S . Defining Human Rights



. Some Needed Nuances



. The Church and Human Rights



PART T WO . TH E C ASE AGAI N S T R I G HTS . The Accusation of Nonexistence



. The Accusation of Inseparability



. The Accusation of Innovation



PART THREE. A N EW SO LU TIO N TO A N OLD PRO B L EM : TH O M IS TIC PER S ON A LI S M . A Personalism Primer



. The Person according to Personalism



. Dignity and Its Due



. The Two Loves



. From Love to Human Rights



. Christ and Human Dignity



vi

 PART FOU R. HU MAN RIG H TS AN D CL ASSI CAL ET H IC S

. Natural Law



. Natural Justice



. Natural Rights in Classical Theory



PART FI VE. TOWARD A N E T H ICS OF SOLIDARIT Y . Who Is My Neighbor?



Select Bibliography Index

 

FOREWO RD Mary Ann Glendon

In , while immersed in the history of the framing of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, I gave a lecture at Notre Dame University titled, “Foundations of Human Rights: The Unfinished Business.”1 I deplored a fact I had only just discovered: that so little progress had been made on a project that the framers of that  document had left for future generations, the task of demonstrating that universal human rights could be placed on a solid philosophical basis. With a postmodern deconstruction derby threatening to make nonsense of the Declaration, I expressed the hope that philosophers and theologians would soon come to the aid of the embattled human rights project. It is somewhat disconcerting, to say the least, to think that a great transformative international movement might rest on nothing more substantial than a hunch that foundations could be found—if only someone looked for them. Yet in his  address to the Vatican diplomatic corps, the philosopher-Pope John Paul II, a long-standing admirer of the  Declaration, warned that the document “does not present the anthropological and ethical foundations of the human rights which it proclaims.”2 In , the Pope’s countryman Czeslaw Milosz expressed a similar concern . Mary Ann Glendon, “Foundations of Human Rights: The Unfinished Business,” American Journal of Jurisprudence / (). . John Paul II, address to the diplomatic corps accredited to the Holy See,  January , par. ; emphasis in original. In earlier speeches, the Pope had described the Declaration as “one of the highest expressions of human conscience of our time” (address to the United Nations, October , , par. ) and as “a real milestone on the path of the moral progress of humanity” (address to the United Nations, October , , par. ).

vii

viii



in more alarming terms. Musing about “those beautiful and deeply moving words which pertain to the old repertory of the rights of man and the dignity of the person,” the poet wrote: “I wonder at this phenomenon because maybe underneath there is an abyss.l.l.l. How long will they stay afloat if the bottom is taken out?”3 An inquisitive person might well ask how it happened that such an imposing edifice was constructed with so little attention to foundations. The fact is that the fathers and mothers of the post–World War II human rights project were well aware of the omission. They just didn’t have time to remedy it. When the U.N.’s first Human Rights Commission, chaired by Eleanor Roosevelt, began to draft a “bill of rights” to which persons of all nations and cultures could subscribe, the commission members were immediately faced with two problems: no one really knew whether there were any such common principles and if so, what they might be. Anticipating those difficulties, UNESCO had asked a group of philosophers (some, such as Jacques Maritain, well known in the West and others from Confucian, Hindu, and Muslim cultures) to look into the matter. The philosophers sent a questionnaire to leading thinkers all over the world, from Mahatma Gandhi to Teilhard de Chardin. In due course, they reported that—somewhat to their surprise—there were a few common standards of decency that were widely shared, though not always formulated in the language of rights. They pronounced themselves “convinced that the members of the United Nations share common convictions on which human rights depend.” At the same time, however, they cautioned that “those common convictions are stated in terms of different philosophic principles and on the background of divergent political and economic systems.” 4 The UNESCO group’s bottom line was that agreement could be reached across cultures concerning certain rights that “may be seen as implicit in man’s nature as an individual and as a member of society and to follow from the fundamental right to live.”5 But they harbored no illusions about how deep that agreement went. As Maritain famously put it when someone asked him how consensus had been achieved among such . Czeslaw Milosz, “The Religious Imagination at ,” New Perspectives Quarterly (Fall ): . . UNESCO, Human Rights: Comments and Interpretations (London: Wingate, ), . . Ibid., .



ix

diverse informants: “We agree about the rights but on condition no one asks us why!”6 Maritain and his colleagues did not view that problem as fatal to proceeding. For the time being, he maintained, the only feasible goal was to reach agreement “not on the basis of common speculative ideas, but on common practical ideas.”7 Since there was consensus that some things are so terrible in practice that no one will publicly approve them, and some things are so good in practice that virtually no one will openly oppose them, a common project could go forward even in the absence of agreement on the reasons for those positions. That practical consensus, the UNESCO philosophers said, was enough “to enable a great task to be undertaken.”8 The philosophers’ judgment proved correct. The delegates on the Human Rights Commission had remarkably few disagreements over which principles should be included in the Declaration.9 (Their disputes were chiefly political, arising out of the antagonistic relations between the Soviet Union and the United States.) On December , , the document was adopted by the U.N. General Assembly as a “common standard of achievement.” Against the predictions of skeptics, the nonbinding Declaration quickly showed its moral force. It became the principal inspiration of the postwar international human rights movement, it remains the most influential model for the majority of rights instruments in today’s world, and it continues to serve as the single most important reference point for discussions of human rights in international settings. Still, the decision to proceed “without asking why” had costs, as one of the UNESCO philosophers foresaw it would. In a prescient essay titled, “The Philosophic Bases and Material Circumstances of the Rights of Man,” Richard McKeon warned that so long as the business of foundations remained unfinished, the Declaration would be highly vulnerable to struggles for the control of its interpretation “for the purpose of advancing special interests.”10 That is precisely what happened throughout . Jacques Maritain, “Introduction,” in ibid., . . Ibid., . . Ibid. . For a detailed account, see Mary Ann Glendon, A World Made New: Eleanor Roosevelt and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (New York: Random House, ). . Richard McKeon, “The Philosophic Bases and Material Circumstances of the Rights of Man,” in Human Rights: Comments and Interpretations (London: Wingate, ), –.

x



the Cold War and in the culture battles that succeeded it. But Mrs. Roosevelt’s commission was under such pressure to proceed, and the philosophers were so confident that foundations could be found, that they left the job of proving it for another day. Now that day has come. What needs to be investigated is not whether agreement can be reached on a single foundation. Maritain and his colleagues considered that to be a fruitless endeavor. More promising, they thought, was to demonstrate that human rights could be firmly grounded in the world’s major cultural, philosophical, and religious traditions. John Paul II concurred in their view, writing: “It is .l.l. the task of the various schools of thought—in particular the communities of believers—to provide the moral bases for the juridic edifice of human rights.”11 Friends of human rights should be grateful, therefore, to Thomas Williams for taking up that challenge and for demonstrating with depth and brilliance how, and in what sense, foundations for human rights can be found in Thomistic personalism. The study presented here abundantly confirms the observation of Cardinal Avery Dulles that “[t]he Catholic doctrine of human rights is not based on Lockean empiricism or individualism. It has a more ancient and distinguished pedigree.”12 Another important contribution of Father Williams’s work is that it effectively counters the reservations expressed by many Catholic thinkers about the Church’s adoption of the modern discourse of rights. His study reveals that human rights ideas are so deeply rooted in Christian tradition that the modern human rights project is not only compatible with Catholicism, it is profoundly indebted to it. He is, to be sure, appropriately cautious about the fact that the Church does not use the language of rights in the same way as it is used in some secular circles. (As the Fathers of Vatican II pointed out in Gaudium et Spes, the movement to respect human rights “must be imbued with the spirit of the Gospel and be protected from all appearance of mistaken autonomy. We are tempted to consider our personal rights as fully protected only when we are free from every norm of divine law; but following this road leads to the destruction rather than to the maintenance of the dignity of the human person ().”) . John Paul II, address to the diplomatic corps accredited to the Holy See,  January , par. . . Avery Dulles, Human Rights: The United Nations and Papal Teaching (New York: Fordham University, ), .



xi

Finally, one should take careful note of Father Williams’s title. The question “Who is my neighbor?” suggests a far more promising starting point for the analysis of human rights issues than the radically individualistic paradigm that has gained prominence within the human rights establishment. By inviting deeper reflection on the nature of the human person, Father Williams has not only helped to place human rights on a firmer foundation but has also suggested promising lines for their future development. He has thus contributed to the development of modern Thomism while performing a great service to the cause of human freedom and dignity.

             Learned Hand Professor of Law Harvard University President, Pontifical Academy for Social Sciences

I N T RO DU C T I O N

Human rights language poses serious problems that require a reasoned response. The ubiquity of references to human rights in secular and ecclesiastical circles could give the impression that a common understanding exists regarding rights. Such an impression vanishes, however, when one listens closely. It seems that everyone—within the Catholic Church and without—talks about rights, but the more they talk, the less they agree.1 In fact, many users of rights language do not even share enough common ground to have an argument, much less a dialogue or discussion. Some of the disagreements are superficial, but many go deep, so deep that some respected thinkers have concluded that rights do not even exist. These controversies are of far more than academic interest, for the language of rights has become—for better or worse—the principal language in which men and women the world over discuss weighty issues that bear upon the human future. The inherent importance of the questions and the chaotic state of rights literature highlight the urgency that rights be placed on secure ethical foundations. The problem is of particular interest to Catholics, since the Catholic Church has not only acquiesced to the contemporary trend to couch ethical discourse in the language of human rights, it has even taken a leading role in the process. Especially since the Second Vatican Council, the papal Magisterium has consistently adopted rights language in framing many of its moral teachings. The conciliar documents Gaudium et Spes and Dignitatis Humanae are replete with talk of human rights and their . Thus James Schall points out that rights “are not merely a common easily agreed upon tradition, but rather a field of struggle and controversy among differing world-views and values” (“Human Rights: The ‘So-Called’ Judaeo-Christian Tradition,” Communio: International Catholic Review / [Spring ]: ).

xiii

xiv



basis in the dignity of the human person. Numerous references to rights, in a variety of contexts, can be found in the  Code of Canon Law and the  Catechism of the Catholic Church. Pope John Paul II appeals to human rights over and over in his many encyclicals, apostolic exhortations, apostolic letters, and discourses. In fact, the language of rights is so fully ensconced in official Church documents that it can fairly be said to constitute an integral part of Catholic social thought. Nevertheless, more than a few serious thinkers express misgivings about the espousal of human rights language and theory. One writer, J. B. Benestad, speaks of a “quiet revolution” brought about by the adoption of rights talk. “Many citizens,” he writes, “including Church leaders, do not realize that rights are not simply another way of talking about classical virtue or the teaching of Jesus Christ. In fact, the doctrine of rights presupposes an understanding of human nature ‘which is no longer defined in terms of its highest aspirations,’ but rather assumes that people cannot really rise above preoccupation with their own interests.” 2 Another commentator, Kenneth R. Craycraft, has contended that the very notion of rights employed in recent official Church documents is “problematic at best.” According to Craycraft: “The Church has adopted a language that may be irreconcilable with its more ancient and basic claims about man and his relationship to God.”3 The philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre denies the existence of rights altogether. “The truth is plain,” MacIntyre writes. “[T]here are no such rights, and belief in them is one with belief in witches and in unicorns.” Furthermore, “every attempt to give good reasons for believing that there are such rights has failed.”4 Besides these theoretical criticisms, reservations based on more practical considerations are also voiced. As Harvard Law School professor Mary Ann Glendon has noted, rights talk often impoverishes public dis. J. Brian Benestad, foreword to Human Rights, Virtue, and the Common Good: Untimely Meditations on Religion and Politics, vol.  of Ernest L. Fortin: Collected Essays, ed. J. Brian Benestad (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, ), xii–xiii. . Kenneth R. Craycraft Jr., “Religion as Moral Duty and Civic Right: Dignitatis Humanae on Religious Liberty,” in Catholicism, Liberalism, and Communitarianism: The Catholic Intellectual Tradition and the Moral Foundations of Democracy, ed. Kenneth L. Grasso, Gerard V. Bradley, and Robert P. Hunt (Lanham, Md.: Rowman & Littlefield, ), . . Alasdair C. MacIntyre, After Virtue: A Study of Moral Theory, nd ed. (London: Gerald Duckworth, ), .



xv

course instead of enriching it, because it tends to oversimplify and trivialize ethical and social problems. Moreover, the accelerating proliferation of new rights has resulted in lengthy catalogues of rights, some of which contradict each other and many of which, detached from any reference to human goods, are simply unacceptable from the Christian perspective.5 Talk of the rights of trees and animals, or of human rights to abortion, euthanasia, or assisted suicide, highlights the aberrant uses for which the term can be employed. Intense controversy rages in contemporary political life over which interests constitute rights and which do not. For example, how many of the myriad proposed women’s rights, family rights, children’s rights, and reproductive rights are truly human rights, and how many are merely personal desires or interest-group agendas dressed up in rights language? Women’s reproductive rights are often pitted against a child’s right to life, while pornographers’ rights to self-expression clash with parental rights to a healthy moral ecology for the raising of their children. Wherein lies the solution to these dilemmas? How can true rights claims be distinguished from false ones? Do rights in fact exist as an objective, ethical reality, or are they a mere convention? Does rights language represent a real departure from traditional Christian and classical ethical categories, or does it merely approach ethical problems from a new perspective, one that is complementary and fully compatible with the traditional concepts? The solution can lie only in excavating beneath the level of utility and convention to reach the very bedrock of rights, their ultimate ethical foundation. What does it actually mean to say that people “have rights,” that someone is “owed” something by others? Why should people be treated in a determined way? What is it about the human person that makes him worthy of certain things? And exactly which things is he worthy of? Unless human rights have an objective foundation, they are little more than a verbal fiction. Yet the challenge of finding that foundation has proved so daunting that many modern thinkers have simply given up on . “The prevailing consensus about the goodness of rights, widespread though it may be, is thin and brittle. In truth, there is very little agreement regarding which needs, goods, interests, or values should be characterized as ‘rights’” (Mary Ann Glendon, Rights Talk: The Impoverishment of Political Discourse [New York: Free Press, ], ).

xvi



it.6 They have settled for the politically expedient solution of merely agreeing that some specific rights should be recognized, defended, and promoted.The problem with that approach, of course, is that opinions change over time, and conventional agreements alone cannot provide long-term security for rights or stand up to those who would propose contrary agendas. As a result, surprisingly little has been written on these foundational questions. Most of the vast literature on rights is devoted to legal considerations, history, or pragmatic matters of rights accords, rights violations, and lists of rights agreeable to certain parties. For its part, the Church’s Magisterium often speaks of rights being grounded in man’s dignity but offers little explanation as to what this means and how it can be theoretically defended and justified. Many today decry the seemingly unrestrained proliferation of rights and the effects of the rights revolution on culture and politics. Far fewer are those who attempt to explain what rights are, where they come from, and how they fit in with Christian moral tradition, if at all. Nonetheless, the necessary tools—especially the insights offered by Thomistic personalism—are available to make a compelling case for the objective reality of natural human rights and their grounding in the dignity of the human person. In the face of the rampant propagation of rights and seemingly irresolvable disputes as to their practical application, this foundational investigation can no longer be put off. Ending its postponement is the aim of this book. . See for example Richard Rorty, “Human Rights, Rationality, and Sentimentality,” in On Human Rights, ed. Stephen Shute and Susan Hurley (New York: Basic Books, ), –.