Dignity and Difficulty in Catholic

Dignity and Difficulty in Catholic Social Teaching

"Sharing Catholic Social Teaching: Challenges and Directions" is an urgent plea to "pastors, educators, and catechists" (2)

It has the hallmarks of a classic call to action: after a grim diagnosis of the present state of Catholic social teaching (see p. 4), it offers an inspiring treatment in terms of a "renewed commitment to integrate Catholic social teaching into the mainstream of all Catholic educational institutions and programs." (3) but the document does not settle for inspiration; once it has our attention, it highlights the key themes of the Catholic social tradition, and then proposes concrete steps toward a "fuller integration of the Church's social tradition" (8) into all aspects of our lives together as Catholics. In this reflection on the bishops' reflections, I would like to dwell on the difficulties inherent to truly respecting human dignity and to suggest that only what the bishops propose, namely, renewed commitment to and emphasis on Catholic social teaching can address these difficulties.

The key themes in Catholic social teaching are many. We are called to honor our families and the communities with whom we seek collective good; we're called to emphasize the rights and duties that protect the sanctity of life and to clothe ourselves in the responsibilities that would help strengthen our communities; to watch over the vulnerable of all sorts, and to care for God's creation. These spring from a common source: the dignity of human life. It is this source that informs and shapes all Catholic social teaching. As the bishops say:

These principles build on the foundation of Catholic social teaching: the dignity of human life. This central Catholic principle requires that we measure every policy, every institution, and every action by whether it protects human life and enhances human dignity, especially for the poor and vulnerable. (7)

This quotation suggests a rule that can guide our actions: measure each action by whether it protects human life and enhances human dignity, especially for the poor and vulnerable. This is no doubt a righteous principle, and it can do a great deal to guide one's actions. Faced with many of the minor moral quandaries that arise in a week, I can consult the principle and find a definite answer. If I'm standing with a group of friends and one, call her Shelly, mistakes "exasperated" for "exacerbated," I may be tempted to correct her right there on the spot. But if I consult the central principle of human dignity, I'll see that Shelly is vulnerable in this case, even if she doesn't know it; and, if I point out her error, it may be embarrassing for her, and it may inspire our mutual friends to hold her in lower esteem. It would seem, then, that I should not correct Shelly in front of our friends.

Even this, however, isn't so simple. As Paul J. Wadell tells us, "there is nothing simple about doing what the good requires."

I just concluded that I would fail to respect Shelly's dignity if I were to remark on her malapropism in a social setting. But notice what I'm assuming about my friends in assuming that this outcome is likely or even just possible. I assume that Shelly is so petty and her dignity so fragile that simply being corrected by a friend and among friends could embarrass her and damage her dignity. Of our mutual friends, I assume they are so fickle in their estimations of their own friends that such a small thing as confusing two words could make a lasting and negative impression.

Shouldn't I think better of my friends? Does it damage their dignity even to assume such terrible things of them? Consider an extreme case: wouldn't I be doing violence to Shelly's dignity if I assumed she's capable of gruesome atrocities or the most heinous of crimes? My intuition is that it would. Shouldn't it be the same case, then, with this minor assumption?

I must admit here that I don't know the answer, even though I think this problem arises quite often -- whenever I face practical decisions that crucially involve predicting others' actions. On the one hand, I shouldn't predict that someone else will act in a way that would diminish their dignity; on the other hand, I should take care that I don't act in a way that would exacerbate that diminishing, if in fact the person does act so as to diminish their dignity. But this puzzle is just my point: morality is a journey, not a destination. As Wadell says, we should envision moral life as an ongoing quest for happiness.