The Church on Politics: Solidarity and Subsidiarity

With a fever pitch of political debate swirling about the various primary races, I thought it was worth reposting here a column that I wrote for the Truth & Charity Forum last month, as part of their larger series on election issues.

Solidarity and Subsidiarity

Much of contemporary political discourse consists of a debate between two camps: those who argue, “We need to do something about…” and those who contend that, “It’s not the government’s responsibility to…” The Catholic Church teaches that each approach, by itself, is inadequate. Ideologies derived from such sentiments should not be the yardstick of Catholic political activity. Rather, the Church presents to us two principles – solidarity and subsidiarity – which, together, provide a balanced and holistic means of thinking about political and social topics.

Solidarity is not a “feeling of vague compassion or shallow distress at the misfortunes of so many people, both near and far” (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 38). Nor is it simply interdependence, which is a circumstance in which we find ourselves, whether we like it or not (CSDC, 193). Rather, solidarity is an active concern for the good of society as a whole, as well as all of its individual members. Because all men are equal in “dignity and rights”, (CSDC, 192) all men have a legitimate claim on our concern.

In the life of Jesus, the Word Made Flesh, we have the ultimate model of solidarity: a God who stoops to become one of us, “like us in all things but sin” (Heb 4:15). He “takes on the infirmities of his people, walks with them, saves them and makes them one” (CSDC, 423). Jesus teaches us not to lord over our neighbors, but to love them, for when we love our neighbors we love Him (Mt. 20:25, 25:40). In the light of Jesus’ concern for all humanity, we discover that society itself, “despite all its contradictions and ambiguities, can be rediscovered as a place of life and hope” (CSDC, 196). As Christians, we are called to embrace society.

But human society is a broken place. Solidarity requires that we overcome the “structures of sin” which divide society and replace them with new structures that embody a “firm and persevering determination to [seek]… the common good” (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 36, 38). St. John Paul II warned that the path toward overcoming structures of sin “is long and complex, and what is more it is constantly threatened because of the intrinsic frailty of human resolutions and achievements, and because of the mutability of very unpredictable and external circumstances. Nevertheless, one must have the courage to set out on this path, and, where some steps have been taken or a part of the journey made, the courage to go on to the end” (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 38). The Church reminds us that we are “debtors of the society of which [we] have become part” (CSDC 195). Culture, scientific knowledge, and other goods – both material and immaterial – have been produced and shared with us by the rest of humanity, across generations and often across borders. Thus, solidarity is not an act of generosity on our part toward the less fortunate, but an act of justice.

Any Catholic thinking seriously about politics must bear in mind our fraternal concern for all mankind and the concrete ways in which it can be realized. The Church demands no less.

Complementing this teaching on solidarity is the doctrine of subsidiarity. Pius XI explained subsidiarity in this way: “It is an injustice,… a grave evil and disturbance of right order to assign to a greater and higher association what lesser and subordinate organizations can do” (Quadragesimo Anno, 203). Or, as John Paul put it, “Needs are best understood and satisfied by people who are closest to them and who act as neighbours to those in need” (Centesimus Annus, 48).

The Church’s long-standing affirmation of subsidiarity is rooted in her concern for families and the various local associations which naturally arise in human society (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1882). Such relationships among individuals promote creativity, strengthen society, and are the basis on which higher forms of social activity are built (Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, 15; Centesimus Annus, 49). Thus, the Church clearly teaches that the state should not impinge upon the legitimate freedom and responsibility of smaller bodies (CSDC, 186). While still affirming the importance of solidarity and of state support to local institutions, John Paul cautioned that overly centralized social programs can become dominated by bureaucracy, rather than fraternal concern, and, like big business monopolies, sap individuals and local organizations of their energy (Centesimus Annus, 48). Even when the state must carry out functions which it alone can provide, these “must not continue any longer than is absolutely necessary,” so that smaller associations are safeguarded (CSDC, 188).

Rather than simply offering a negative message – that the state should mind its own business – Christian subsidiarity should be understood as a call to strengthen and enliven local institutions, among them families, parishes, school boards, small business associations, artists guilds, charitable groups, and more. Such groups must be reminded that, though largely private in nature, they serve a broader function for the good of society (CSDC, 187). They are the primary means by which we fulfill our duties of solidarity. When parishes house the homeless, local businesses offer training to immigrants, or fraternal organizations raise money for their neighbors harmed by natural disasters, they are simultaneously living out both solidarity and subsidiarity.

This is the mindset of the Church. Though similar, at points, to some elements of contemporary political ideology, it is markedly different in its overall outlook, which is rooted in the dignity of individuals and our common good, which is ultimately found in God. Catholics voters, bombarded by increasingly shrill demands on their allegiances, would do well to take solidarity and subsidiarity to heart as they seek to provide faithful witness in the political and social sphere.

Happy Feast of St. Benedict! How Do We Live It?

Today is the feast of the abbot Benedict of Nursia.

Inspired by Rod Dreher, himself inspired by St. Benedict, I've been thinking a lot lately about the so-called "Benedict Option," aimed at intentional Christian living in a post-Christian age.  Although more a set of questions than a real program, I think this conversation, which has been going on for a couple years now since Dreher's initial post, offers valuable food for thought.  I suggest you check out the following:

"Benedict Option," The American Conservative, the original blog post by Dreher from 2013.

"Christian and Countercultural," First Things, an elaboration by Dreher from 2015.

"Critics of the Benedict Option," The American Conservative, Dreher's latest blog post which addresses some misconceptions (and refuses to get drawn into greater specifics than the idea requires).

"Benedict Option Reading Suggestions (Updated)," Fare Forward, a guide to various comments on and critics of the Benedict Option.

O God, who made the Abbot Saint Benedict an outstanding master in the school of divine service, grant, we pray, that, putting nothing before love of you, we may hasten with a loving heart in the way of your commands. Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Saint Benedict, pray for us!

Today's image comes via the Saint Meinrad Archabbey.

The Rights and Responsibilities of Generations

Communitarianism never really took off as a political movement, but its emphasis on both rights and responsibilities broadly accords with the flavor of Catholic social teaching. With that in mind, and inspired by the consciously inter-generational charism of the Sword of the Spirit community, I have been thinking a lot lately, as I watch my own parents age and my children grow, about the rights and responsibilities of generations. Not yet having run the full course of life, I realize these are limited by my own experience, but here are a few thoughts:

• Young people, from high school students to recent college graduates, have lots of energy and, although they rarely recognize it, time. I would strongly recommend to anyone about to finish undergraduate studies that they consider undertaking missionary work, joining the military, or going to graduate school. This is the season of life for such things. I am glad, for my part, that I completed my PhD immediately after my undergraduate education. While additional "life experience" in the midst of my studies would have been valuable, I cannot imagine trying to finish coursework or a dissertation while raising a family.


• On a related note: society desperately needs the enthusiastic service of young people. While service projects abound, it feels like many of them involve piecemeal efforts or the ticking of boxes. More organizations for sustained, dedicated service are needed, and more young people should be encouraged to participate in them. The Mormon missionary system comes to mind as a model of large-scale, coordinated utilization of young peoples' efforts.


• Young single people need support. Two particular manifestations come to mind. First, I am deeply grateful for men a few years older than me who shared their lives. I have learned a great deal from them. With young children, my wife and I now find ourselves spending the overwhelming majority of our social time with other parents of young children. There are many fruits to this arrangement, but I fear that we are doing little to impart our wisdom (such as it is), sometimes gained with sweat and tears, to those who will need it in a few years.


• Second, the debacle of the Texas A&M Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgendered Resource Center reminded me of how difficult it is to be a single person in a society saturated in sexual promiscuity. As Genesis reminds us, "It is not good for the man to be alone." Single life was a blessed season for me, but also a trying one, and I lived it in an extremely supportive environment. I cannot imagine doing so at a large public institution such as A&M (itself, by no means the worst of "party" schools). Why are there no Single People Striving to Live Chastity Resource Centers?


• On the whole, our elders are neither accorded the seat of wisdom, nor would they know what to do with it if they were. Consider the term we use for those advanced in age: elderly. Literally, those like elders, but not actually such. Our society is so far removed from a reverence for our elders that most of us have no idea how to incorporate them into the regular habits of business and social life. Moreover, the generation now reaching retirement is a generation which - collectively, if not individually - rejected the oversight of their elders. If there was ever a sense for how elders gracefully receive deference and impart their wisdom while still permitting a younger generation to lead, that sense has been lost. Many of our elders today, so rarely receiving the respect due to their experience, are either embarrassed by the attention grasp at it in a way which is unhelpful. The wheel must be reinvented.

The Dangers of Other-Direction

OR

What Daycare and Prom Have in Common

Some of my co-workers have children in daycare.  At present, our son is not.  There are many sound arguments for placing children in such an arrangement, but I would instead like to address one fallacious argument.  Some people say they want to place their children in daycare to teach them good social skills, or - presented it its more striking opposite form - so that they don't turn out as unsocialized loner weirdos.

Sociability is a good thing so far as it goes, but as David Riesman points out in his 1950 classic The Lonely Crowd, sociability has its limits.  Riesman describes three, or rather, four, types of people.  Tradition-directed people live by the standards and customs of their culture, even if no other members of that group are around, or are even left alive.  Such people are virtually unknown in the modern industrialized experience.  The inner-directed person lives by the standards of a inner gyroscope spun up by his or her parents.  The other-directed person lives in accordance with the opinions of those around him or her.  As Riesman points out, a world of other-directed people can end up all trying to emulate one another, without anyone having a clear sense of purpose.  Hence the title.

I recently spoke with a social worker in the Federal City who said the young people she worked with precisely fit Riesman's description of contemporary other-direction.  They were utterly lacking in the drive and self-discipline which characterize the inner-directed person, instead constantly indulging their various whims.  However, these troubled youths were so other-directed that they could not even decide what it was they wanted, and thus frequently brought trouble on themselves in the course of seeking not their own desires, but the perceived desires of those around them.

Such a situation is not unique to difficult neighborhoods.  It should also be familiar to anyone who has considered the problem of high school proms.  As a student government faculty adviser once explained to me, no one wants to go to prom when no one is going to prom.  But once everyone is going to prom, everyone wants to go.  If one were to graph prom plans on the Y against time on the X, the result would be an inverted L: for a long time no one wants to go, then suddenly the zeitgeist shifts and interest soars.

This isn't really a post about daycare or prom; it's about that sudden shift in public attitudes.  The rapid turnover in fashions of all kinds - sartorial, dietary, technological - exhibits this phenomenon.  So too do American views on same-sex marriage.  As late as 2005, many polls showed that a majority of Americans - perhaps as much as two thirds - opposed same-sex marriage.  By 2012 a majority of Americans supported the recognition of such unions.  The pace of change has caught both supporters and opponents by surprise, prompting analysis among pundits and rapid position changes by politicians.  Let me suggest that this rapid change may be the result of our contemporary other-directed society.  Everyone now supports same-sex marriage because everyone supports same-sex marriage.

Opponents of same-sex marriage may rail against other-direction on this point, but other issues could be raised on which the left opposed the zeitgeist.  Rather than tallying partisan points, let me suggest that Americans of all political stripes should be concerned about this problem.

The answer is not to remove children from daycare or quit holding proms.  Rather, a solution begins first by recognizing the problem and then envisioning a solution.  I mentioned a few paragraphs ago that Riesman described four types of people.  Whereas the tradition-, inner-, and other-directed are all directed by other people, directly or indirectly, he posits a fourth kind who is not: the autonomous person.  Such a person makes decisions for him or herself.  If cultivating such autonomous reason is a difficult task - and surely it is - perhaps it can be tempered with a stern adherence to received values and a regard for traditional ways.  None of these are perfect guides which can guarantee a correct outcome, but at least they avoid the madness of the crowd.  It's something worth attempting.

Society and Tradition, Form and Content

What are we to do with our traditions when the world has rejected the underlying reasons for them? How long can and should these traditions linger on? How long can and should the form of a tradition survive when it has been emptied of its content and deprived of its function?

These questions came to mind recently when I read Aaron’s post on tradition and society, as well as a short piece in “First Things” decrying the modernist dogma in architecture, “Form follows function.” What I want to do now is try to understand how this dichotomy between form and function (or content) might influence the way we think about tradition and society.

That modernist dogma is obviously not completely historically true, but it’s also not completely wrong. One way to illustrate this is to analyze one important tradition--monarchy--in terms of form and function.

Most traditions, I would guess, arise because they accomplish two important aims. First, traditions arise because they fulfill a practical function. Second, traditions arise (and endure) because they embody what that particular society views as the right order of society and the cosmos. The tradition of kingship historically accomplished both aims. On the practical level, it made sense to have a strong, respected man in authority over an entire people. The alternative was chaos, needless bloodshed, etc. On the more contemplative level, though, many peoples have viewed their monarchs as God’s representative on earth. The Byzantines have had their difficulties with Caesaropapism, but many cultures have not hesitated to reverence their rulers as gods. Furthermore, in many cultures, as anthropologists can attest, the union of king and queen was somehow reflective of nature’s fertility, as well as somehow vital to the people’s own fertility. For instance, the King and Queen of Hawaii used to ritually go out to the fields in early spring in order to lie with each other. I could list more examples, but you get the idea. These traditions were preserved because they had practical reasons, but also because they in some way represented the order of the cosmos.

I must also note one more point. The tradition, however, is not just shaped by certain social views, but in turn helps to shape and reinforce those views. So, in one sense form does follow function, but in another sense form defines function. For example, just as a particular society’s view of the order of cosmos determined the form of kingship, so conversely that society’s view of kingship can influence its religion. In the Middle Ages, many images have come down from the Middle Ages of Heaven as a type of divine court, where God takes the place of the king, Mary that of queen, and the saints as noblemen and courtiers. The very form of monarchy reinforced the idea of its function, viz. to reflect God’s order in the world.

However, in Europe, such conceptions of kingship (for whatever reasons) were outdated by the time of the French Revolution and the various revolutions of the 19th century, especially among the more “enlightened” classes of society. These conceptions lingered on among the peasants of the Vendee, or the followers of Andreas Hofer in Austria, and even perhaps among a few aristocratic reactionaries. By now, though, these ancient conceptions are dead, or persist in only the most inchoate form.

So, here was the question for a 19th-century reactionary, as Aaron recognized: What are we to do with this form, with monarchy? Should we keep it? Or, should we scrap it and start over from scratch?

History seems to have opted for the latter option by abolishing Europe’s monarchies or by so reducing them in significance that they are hardly anything more than expensive pageants and soap operas.

But, was this the right answer?