Anti-thesis
Texts for Discussion
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Anti-thesis
Texts for Discussion
|
|
||
|
|
|
|
||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|||||
|
|
||||
|
|||||
|
||||
|
|
Thomas Aquinas on Greed: extracts from the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (plato.stanford.edu):
|
|
|
|
||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas said of Greed: "it is a sin directly against one's neighbor, since one man cannot over-abound in external riches, without
another man lacking them... it is a sin against God, just as all mortal sins, inasmuch as man contemns things eternal for
the sake of temporal things." (2, 118, ad 1) Aquinas pulls together into a powerful (though confusingly expounded) synthesis
a long tradition of analysis of the elements of understanding (reason) and intelligent response (will) that constitute deliberation,
choice, and execution of choice: ST I-II qq. 6-17. The analysis shows the centrality of intention in the assessment
of options and actions. In a narrow sense of the word, intention is always of ends and choice is of means;
but since every means (save the means most proximate to sheer trying or exertion) is also an end relative to a more proximate
means, what is chosen when one adopts one of two or more proposals (for one's action) that one has shaped in one's deliberation
is rightly, though more broadly, said to be what one intends, what one does intentionally or with intent(ion), and so forth.
An act(ion) is paradigmatically what it is intended to be; that is, its morally primary description – prior to any moral
evaluation or predicate -- is the description it had in the deliberation by which one shaped the proposal to act thus.
Aquinas's way of saying this is: acts are specified by – have their specific character from -- their objects,
where “objects” has the focal meaning of proximate end as envisaged by the deliberating and acting person. Of
course, the behavior involved in that act can be given other descriptions in the light of conventions of description, or expectations
and responsibilities, and so forth, and one or other these descriptions may be given priority by law, custom, or some other
special interest or perspective. But it is primarily on acts qua intended, or on the acts (e.g. of taking care) that
one ought to have intended, that ethical standards (moral principles and precepts) bear. To repeat: in the preceding sentence
“intended” is used in the broad sense; Aquinas sometimes employs it this way (e.g. ST II-II q. 64 a.
7), though in his official synthesis the word is used in the narrower sense to signify the (further) intention with
which the act's object was chosen – object being the most proximate of one's (broad sense) intentions. 2.2 Context: the open horizon of human life as a
whole
Ethical standards, for which practical reason's first principles provide the
foundations or sources, concern actions as choosable and self-determining. They are thus to be distinguished clearly, as Aristotle
already emphasized, from standards which are practical, rational, and normative in a different way, namely the technical or
technological standards internal to every art, craft, or other system for mastering matter. Aquinas locates the significant
and irreducible difference between ethics and all these forms of “art” in three features: (i) Moral thought, even
when most unselfishly concerned with helping others through the good effects of physical effort and causality, is fundamentally
concerned with the problem of bringing order into one's own will, action, and character, rather than the problem of how to
bring order into the world beyond one's will. (ii) Correspondingly, the effects of morally significant free choices (good
or evil) are in the first instance intransitive (effects on the will and character of the acting person. Only secondarily
are they transitive effects on the world, even when that person's intentions are focused, as they normally should be, on the
benefits of those external effects. (iii) Whereas every art and technique has a more or less limited objective (end) which
can be accomplished by skillful deployment of the art, moral thought has in view an unlimited and common (shared) horizon
or point, that of “human life as a whole [finis communis totius humanae vitae]” (ST I-II q.
21 a. 2 ad 2), for each of one's morally significant choices (for good or evil) is a choice to devote a part of one's single
life to a purpose which could have been any of the whole open-ended range of purposes open to human pursuit for the sake of
benefiting all or any human being(s). 2.4.2 Their Oughts are not inferred from
any Is
Aquinas's repeated affirmation that practical reason's first principles are
undeduced refutes the common accusation or assumption that his ethics invalidly attempts to deduce or infer ought
from is, for his affirmation entails that the sources of all relevant oughts cannot be deduced from any
is. There remain, however, a number of contemporary Thomists who deny that such a deduction or inference need be
fallacious, and regard Aquinas as postulating some such deduction or inference. They are challenged., however, by others (such
as Rhonheimer, Boyle, and Finnis) who, while sharing the view that his ethics is in these respects fundamentally sound, deny
that Aquinas attempted or postulated any such deduction or inference, and ask for some demonstration (i) that he did and (ii)
that he or anyone else could make such a deduction or inference. These critics reinforce their denial by pointing out that in his prologue to
his commentary on Aristotle's Ethics, Aquinas teaches that knowledge of things that are what they are independently
of our thought (i.e. of nature) is fundamentally distinct both from logic and from practical knowledge, one of whose two species
is philosophia moralis (whose first principles or fundamental oughts are under discussion here) The basic human goods which first practical principles identify and direct
us to are identified by Aquinas as (i) life, (ii) “marriage between man and woman and bringing up of children [coniunctio
maris et feminae et educatio liberorum]” (not at all reducible to “procreation”), (iii) knowledge,
(iv) living in fellowship (societas and amicitia) with others, (v) practical reasonableness (bonum rationis)
itself, and (vi) knowing and relating appropriately to the transcendent cause of all being, value, normativity and efficacious
action. (ST I-II q. 94 aa. 2 & 3). His lists are always explicitly open-ended. They sketch the outlines and elements
of the flourishing of the human persons in whom they can be actualized. Even complete fulfillment – the beatitudo
perfecta that Aquinas places firmly outside our natural capacities and this mortal life – could not be regarded
as a further good, but rather as a synthesis and heightened actualization of these basic goods in the manner appropriate to
a form of life free from both immaturity (and other incidents of procreation) and decay. Against Kant's assumption that, since the ends toward which one wishes to act
are subjective because given (as Hume proposed) by one's subrational desires, practical reason's function is to limit and
channel one's pursuit of those ends, Aquinas considers that practical reason's first and fundamental operation is not limiting,
confining or negative but rather facilitating and positive: finding and constructing intelligible ends to be pursued (prosequenda),
that give intelligent point to our behavior. The thesis that the first practical principles are only incipiently moral should
not be confused with the widespread modern opinion that practical reason's default position is self-interest or “prudential”
reason, so that there is a puzzle about how one transits from this to morality. In Aquinas' classical view, one's reason (as
distinct from some of one's customs) naturally understands the primary or basic goods as good for anyone, and further understands
that it is good to participate in the many forms of friendship which require that one set aside all merely emotionally motivated
self-preference. Aquinas is regrettably inexplicit about how the first practical principles
yield moral principles, precepts or rules that have the combined generality and specificity of the precepts found in the portion
of the biblical Decalogue (Exod. 20.1-17; Deut. 5.6-21) traditionally called moral (the last seven precepts,
e.g. parents should be reverenced, murder is wrong, adultery is wrong, etc.). But a reconstruction of his scattered statements
makes it clear enough that in his view a first implication of the array of first principles, each directing us to goods actualisable
as much in others as in oneself, is this: that one should love one's neighbor as oneself. Since he considers this principle, like the set of first principles mentioned
in I-II q. 94 a. 2, to be self-evident (per se notum), he must regard the principle of love-of-neighbor-as-self not
so much as an inference from, or even specification of, but rather a redescriptive summary of that set. This in turn suggests
the further reflection that the first principles, and the goods (bona) to which they direct us, are transparent,
so to speak, for the flesh-and-blood persons in whom they are and can be instantiated. Moreover, it may be thought that the
primary moral principle of love of neighbor as oneself is another reason to doubt (despite appearances) the strategic role
of eudemonism in his ethics. Aristotelianising interpretations of Aquinas' ethics normally make central the notion of fulfillment,
understood (it seems) as the fulfillment of the deliberating and acting person – to which the requirement of neighbor
love does not have a perspicuous relationship. Grisez and others, on the other hand, take it that the role of fulfillment
(eudaimonia, beatitudo) in ethical thought's unfolding from the first principles of practical reason is best captured
by a “master moral principle” close though perhaps not identical to Aquinas's supreme moral principle: that all
one's acts of will be open to integral human fulfillment, that is to the fulfillment of all human persons and communities
now and in future. Since Aquinas thinks that the existence and providence of God, as the transcendent
source of all persons and benefits, is certain, his usual statement of the master moral principle affirms that one should
love God and one's-neighbor-as-oneself. But since he accepts that the existence of God is not self-evident, he can allow that
the more strictly self-evident form of the master moral principle refers only to love of human persons (self and neighbors).
He would add that, once the existence and nature of God is accepted, as it philosophically should be, the rational requirement
of loving God, and thus the fuller version of the master moral principle, is self-evident. He also holds that one does not
offend against this requirement of loving God except by making choices contrary to human good, that is, to love of self or
neighbor: Summa contra Gentiles III c. 122 n. 2. The main lines of Aquinas' theory of moral principles strongly suggest that
moral norms (precepts, standards) are specifications of “Good is to be done and pursued, and evil avoided”, specifications
which so direct choice and action that each of the primary goods (elements of human fulfillment) will be respected and promoted
to the extent required by the good of practical reasonableness (bonum rationis). And what practical reasonableness
requires seems to be that each of the basic human goods be treated as what it truly is: a basic reason for action amongst
other basic reasons whose integral directiveness is not to be cut down or deflected by subrational passions. The
principle of love of neighbor as self and the Golden Rule immediately pick out one element in that integral directiveness.
The other framework moral rules give moral direction by stating ways in which more or less specific types of choice
are immediately or mediately contrary to some basic good. This appears to be Aquinas's implicit method, as illustrated below
(3.4). |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
||||
|
|
Related References to Greed:
GREED: Presented on 10/8/01 at The Newman Center by Rev. Bruce Williams, O.P. as part of
the series on the Seven Deadly Sins. In the last session, to begin this series, I pointed out that the Seven Deadly Sins / Capital
Vices tend to generate lots of other sins and vices. Tonight I have to precise that a little more by explaining that among
the Big Seven themselves there tend to be some causal relationships. Pride and Vanity, which we covered last week, have a
certain general influence toward all manner of vice. More specifically, Pride and Vanity are often incentives toward Greed,
which is tonight’s subject. Vain people are frequently intent on making an impression with their money or with their
possessions. Proud people are apt to seek wealth as a means to secure their sense of "independence" from others and even from
God; instead of relying on God to provide for their needs, they feel it’s entirely up to them to provide for themselves.
Greed is the result. But Greed, in its turn, has a significant bearing on many other vices. If you take Greed
in its most generic sense, as just "wanting / desiring too much" of something, several of the other items on the list of the
Big Seven can even be understood as forms of greed. For instance, gluttony designates a greedy appetite for food, anger a
greedy appetite for revenge, lust a greedy appetite for sexual gratification. In fact, there’s a New Testament verse
(Col. 3:5) in which the word for covetousness or greed has sometimes been translated as "lust," causing no little confusion
to readers and even preachers. (The text is referring to something tantamount to idolatry. In their 1986 pastoral letter on
economic justice, the Greed as a specific vice As a capital vice, greed is understood not in the generic sense of excess that I’ve
just elaborated, but as a distinct vice specified by the inordinate love of money and material wealth. As the famous New Testament
verse has it (I Tim. 6:10): "Love of money is the root of all evils; it is through this craving that some have wandered away
from the faith and pierced their hearts with many pangs." On the basis of this celebrated text, the formative writers in our
tradition have attributed to greed a certain supremacy among the other capital vices (though subordinate to pride), as the
"root" which nourishes the other vices by providing the wherewithal for them to be pursued and indulged. Note that what is identified as "the root of all evils" is the love / craving for money,
not money itself. Jesus did call some of his followers to renounce all wealth, but he didn’t propose this to everyone.
Jesus himself, and his companions, didn’t live on nothing. They accepted support from wealthy women who are named in
Luke’s gospel (Lk. 8:2-3), and there’s no indication that Jesus ever attempted to discourage these people from
supporting him. Remember too that one of Jesus’ company was appointed as treasurer, so there were evidently some funds
for the treasurer to manage. (The treasurer, of course, ended up sadly, and at least some material in the gospels suggests
that greed was his undoing – the payment he accepted for betraying Jesus, and see also Jn. 12:4-6; yet there has also
been speculation that other motives may have been involved.) Clearly, in any case, our tradition recognizes that we can’t live without some material
sustenance, and that normally we have to make use of money to provide for our needs. In fact, the tradition has identified
a vice at the opposite extreme from greed, i.e., the vice of expending our resources too freely to the point of carelessness,
recklessness. This would be the vice of prodigality or wastefulness. The apostle Paul expressly told the Corinthians that
he didn’t expect them to impoverish themselves in the process of trying to relieve the poverty of others (II Cor. 8:13).
The right of private property, or the right to acquire and keep things as one’s own, has been upheld throughout the
tradition (scholars explain the seemingly contrary witness of Acts 4:32 by suggesting that this narrative presents an idealized
picture of the infant church). Modern popes for over a century have strongly defended this right, in opposition to Marxism. The issue here, to put it in terms of a respected biblical word, is one of stewardship –
how we use the resources we’ve been blessed with. From the age of the church Fathers all the way down to our own, Catholic
teaching has insisted that while the ownership of goods may rightfully be private, the use made of these goods must be regulated
by just norms pertaining to social well-being. This goes directly against an idea that has, sadly, become a common assumption
in our society today, the extreme individualistic idea that I’m entitled to amass as much wealth as possible (by lawful
means) and to do simply whatever I want with what is "mine," unhindered by any social obligations. That idea, actually, is
typical of what we’re calling the vice of greed. Greed and prodigality are both vices against responsible stewardship, but greed is much more
profoundly so. We can see this in several ways, and perhaps most easily, to begin with, in practical terms. In the very nature
of the case, prodigality will eventually exhaust itself; if you keep on dissipating your resources over a long enough time,
sooner or later all your resources will be spent and you won’t have anything left to continue being prodigal with. Greed,
on the contrary, feeds on itself. There’s no limit to how much we can seek to acquire in our greed; the more we have,
the more we want, and our greed just keeps on expanding. Greed and its opposite virtues A deeper way to appreciate the contrast between greed and prodigality is to consider the
virtues they’re opposed to. The virtue most directly at stake here is generosity, also called "liberality" because it’s
the disposition to give freely (liberally) of what is rightfully mine in order to benefit others. Prodigality and greed are both opposed to generosity, but in very different ways. Prodigality
exaggerates and distorts generosity by wastefulness; ultimately it’s self-defeating, undermining the good that generosity
would promote. But greed is radically contrary to the very idea of generosity; it’s the vice that has me preoccupied
with getting and keeping for myself. Simply put, prodigal people are generous to a fault whereas greedy people are ungenerous.
That should make it clear enough which of the two vices is worse. But ungenerosity is only the beginning of greed. As I persist in my preoccupation with getting
things for myself and holding on to what is mine, I tend to develop exaggerated notions of "what is mine," of what rightfully
belongs to me. I progressively inflate my "rights" and I come to minimize and even negate your rights. And so, what I’m
so assiduously acquiring and holding on to as "mine" may often not really be rightfully mine at all; it’s yours! At
this point, my greed has made me not only ungenerous but downright unjust. In the end, greed violates not only generosity
but justice itself. Examples of this abound. On the personal level, just think of the countless petty thefts,
and also thefts that are not so petty, made from offices and other workplaces by employees who rationalize their conduct by
supposing that they’re somehow justified in helping themselves in this fashion. On the grand social scale, consider
the vast accumulation of wealth alongside dire poverty. The church Fathers adamantly insisted that the relief of the poor
is an obligation of justice, not simply of generosity or charity. In other words, there is simply no right to retain superfluous
wealth and withhold relief from starving people; those who do so are denounced by the Fathers as not just thieves but murderers. Greed as a Two years ago when I spoke here on "Moral Leadership and Business" (9/28/99), I quoted from
John Paul II’s 1979 address at Yankee Stadium during his first visit to our country as pope. Expounding on the gospel
parable of the rich man and the beggar Lazarus (Lk. 16:19-31), the pope reminded wealthy In the special edition of Time magazine devoted to the attacks of last September 11,
an article by Nancy Gibbs begins as follows: "If you want to humble an empire it makes sense to maim its cathedrals. They
are symbols of its faith, and when they crumple and burn, it tells us we are not so powerful and we can’t be safe. The
While we would readily say Amen to that final statement, we ought to do so with a prayer
to be spared, by the help of God’s grace, from yielding at all to the temptation to make money and power our god in
practice. That would be the covetousness, the greed, which the author of Colossians refers to as idolatry. Now I trust that these last few remarks are not going to be misunderstood. I’m not
intending to say, or to come anywhere near to saying, that our country’s problems with amassed wealth and our susceptibility
to greed put us in a position where we deserved to have these atrocities visited on us. Any such suggestion would be obscene.
Having clarified that, I submit that it is still permissible and germane to ask ourselves, in all humility and with all compassion,
whether it’s possible that our problems with greed would provide a partial answer to the question that has been on so
many lips during these weeks: Why are we so hated? Greed and "mammon illness" In my earlier presentation, already mentioned, on "Moral Leadership and Business," I cited
some reflections of Fr. Jack Haughey SJ who has been involved for many years with ethical issues regarding the acquisition
and use of wealth. He treats the capital vice of greed, in its personal and social dimensions, as a profound spiritual malady
which he terms "mammon illness." The vivid biblical illustration which Haughey offers is the sad story in Marks’s gospel
(Mk. 5:1-20) about a town’s adverse reaction to an exorcism which Jesus performed on one of its citizens, because the
outcome of the exorcism involved the destruction of a herd of pigs and this was disruptive to the town’s economy. In
Haughey’s terms, that town’s inverted social values – placing economic stability above the welfare of its
citizen newly released from demonic possession – were clearly symptomatic of its affliction with mammon illness. Arguably
the town itself was even sicker than the possessed man had been. It’s characteristic of mammon illness that greed is not perceived as the vice it really
is. Greed can even come to be seen as a virtue; as mentioned before, many in our society now consider it a right – and
I’ll add here, even an imperative – to amass as much wealth as possible and to keep and use it all for oneself
with no sense of obligation toward other people who are needy. Not surprisingly, the symptoms of mammon illness which Haughey
goes on to list show a striking correlation with the offspring of greed which are identifed in the tradition of the capital
vices. Although I elaborated on this more extensively in my earlier "Moral Leadership in Business" presentation, it’s
useful to summarize it briefly here. The first mammon-illness symptom listed by Haughey is what he calls "running," exemplified
in many instances of workaholism and, more generally, in so much anxiety over material security as well as in the over-all
driven quality of our lives. It correlates rather closely with the preoccupied and restless spirit which Christian authors
have traditionally pointed out as an offspring of greed. Next there is the symptom which Haughey calls "numbness," whereby one is oblivious of family
and friends and, a fortiori, of other people beyond one’s immediate circle – especially the needy. This symptom
correlates with that callousness toward the poor which Christian authors also identified as an offspring of greed. The third and last symptom Haughey proposes is "split consciousness" – the effort to
be "devoutly religious and devoutly avaricious at the same time," as I described it in my earlier address. In a basic way
this involves dishonesty, typically in the form of self-deception. Traditional Christian writers did not explicate this particular
type of dishonesty as an offspring of greed; but they did see greed as generating dishonesty in other forms, especially in
the proneness to deal with others in ways that are underhanded, deceitful, fraudulent – i.e., to take unfair advantage
of others for one’s own gain. It might be tempting to admire such behavior as clever or astute or "prudent." But Aquinas
expressly spoke of this astutia as a type of False Prudence, and he pointed out that it characteristically stems from
greed. Remedies for Greed Greed is so pervasive in our society that Solomon Schimmel, for one, is quite pessimistic
about the prospects for any effective remedy against it. He is among those who think that greed is built into the fabric of
capitalist economy, and suggests that the best we can hope to do is restrain the more destructive excesses of this vice. Pope
John Paul, on the other hand, appears more hopeful that capitalism can function effectively without the incentive of greed.
He continues to defend the legitimacy of private property and entrepreneurship, and even extols the superior merits of a free
market economy, though he emphasizes that the free market is in need of regulation so as to promote and not hinder the broader
common good. Some of this regulation he envisions as coming necessarily from the government, which is
directly charged with safeguarding the general welfare. But the most important regulation must come from a renewal of the
human spirit in love and justice, especially as expressed in the virtues of generosity and munificence. I’ve already
spoken here of generosity as the virtue most directly opposed to greed. The other virtue, munificence, is a kind of extraordinary
generosity – joined with a wholesome boldness or courage – exercised by those with more abundant means who invest
their resources heavily in undertakings of significant value for the community. This applies to philanthropic individuals
and corporate institutions, and also to wealthy nations such as our own that are called to share their rich blessings with
the world. Both generosity and munificence express and also foster a sense of solidarity with our fellow
human beings as well as with the world we all share. Pope John Paul even regards solidarity as a virtue in itself, and as
the key to the realization of humanity’s noblest earthly potential. Greed, like the other capital vices in various ways,
isolates and alienates us from one another. Its remedy must involve a new spirit of community solidarity, which can make possible
a real peace and thus true security instead of the illusory security of amassed wealth. " May God thy gold refine, ‘Til all success be nobleness And every gain divine." http://falcon.fsc.edu/~bnogueira/sevensins.htm Greed as topic: Quotations form Oliver Stone: “Greed is good! Greed is right! Greed works! Greed will save the Ivan Boesky: “Greed is all right.. Greed is healthy. You can be greedy and still feel good about yourself.”
Commencement address, “Pile on the Brown man’s burden/To satisfy your greed” – London Truth, reprinted in Middelbury VT Register March 17, 1899. From the Teaching for Merikare 2135-2040 BC “Wretched is he who has bound the land to himself ... a fool is he who is greedy when others possess. Life on earth passes away, it is not long; he is fortunate who has a good remembrance in it.” Nikos Kazantzakis:
“How simple and frugal a thing is happiness: a glass of wine, a roast chestnut, a wretched little brazier, the
sound of the sea .. All that is required to feel that here and now is happiness is a simple, frugal heart.” Zorba the
Greek, 1955 edition of FDR “It is not a tax bill but a tax relief bill, providing relief not for the needy but for the greedy.” Veto of tax bill, Feb 22, 1944. “Not greedy of filthy lucre.” FDR “We have earned the hatred of entrenched greed.” Message to Congress, Jan. 3, 1936. |
|
|
|
||||
|
||||
|
||||