Why Conservative Catholics Believe Parents Cannot be Happy Unless They Die
Personal News
You may have noticed that I haven’t posted for a while. That’s because I just had a son on June 21 and got a new job as a professor of humanities. Classes start on August 21. The school is a small, conservative Christian college, which is great. Obviously, I’ve been extremely busy and haven’t had time to write. I quit my old job at a conservative think tank, but teaching requires a lot of prep work, mostly making lecture notes. I’m teaching material that I mostly haven’t taught before. (My Ph.D was in political science, but I will mostly be teaching history and literature classes.) In addition to lecture prep, I’ve been packing and taking care of my three children. I have a couple of pieces in the works and hope to write more as we ease into the semester.
Introduction
Today I have a poorly written and tongue-in-cheek post that shouldn’t be taken too seriously, although it raises an important question about natural law theory and its relation to human happiness. (In case you’re wondering: yes, the title is click-bait.) While preparing a lecture on natural law theory and happiness for my ethics class, I began to reflect on my experience as a father and its connection to happiness as articulated in Aristotle and Aquinas. This post investigates the relationship between having children and human happiness in the classical tradition, and then shows how this analysis might explain both the global fertility decline of the last half-century and the fact that religious people tend to have more children. I will be referencing chapters 2 and 3 of the book I am using for class (An Introduction to Ethics by Brian Besong), which is a typical Catholic treatment of natural law theory.
Natural Law Theory and Happiness
According to the classical tradition, an organism becomes “happy” by pursuing the goods appropriate to its nature. The human goods are derived from characteristic human powers. Human powers come in three broad categories. The “nutritive” powers involve basic and largely automatic biological functions related to health and growth, such as eating, drinking, and healing from wounds. The “appetitive powers” involve the pursuit of goods derived from the sense appetites, like smelling roses or playing. Finally, the “rational powers” involve using reason to know and pursue truth and goodness (which is derived from truth). Examples of powers involve, for instance, an inclination to form friendships, live in peace in society, and procreate (more on that below).
Aristotle and Aquinas agree that these powers can be arranged in a hierarchy, with nutritive powers at the bottom and rational powers at the top. The non-rational powers are lower because both plants and animals have nutritive powers and animals have appetitive powers. The rational part of human nature is the best, noblest, and most uniquely human—we are the “rational animal” after all. Our natural powers thus “form a hierarchy” in which “[s]ome powers are more important than others.”[1] Likewise, the “good ends that the powers naturally aim at can also be categorized into a hierarchy,” with the good aimed at by the rational powers (truth) at the top.[2] Reason is our highest power and our characteristic power.
For classical philosophy, then, happiness (or fulfillment, or flourishing) is found in the exercise of our highest power of reason. This is our “function.” Of course, it is also good to exercise our other powers, but these lower powers aren’t connected as closely to happiness.
The exercise of reasons involves what the classical tradition calls “contemplation,” or thinking rationally about things. Reason wants to understand truth and to pursue truth. Thus, for Aristotle, the contemplative life of the philosopher is the highest form of life. Humans can also use reason to pursue “practical wisdom” or insights into how to live, which gives rise to ethics. We derive the virtues, like courage or moderation, from ethical deliberation. The life of virtue is part of the life of reason, albeit in a secondary way.
To live a life of reason, humans need to obtain what Aristotle calls “external goods,” such as food, clothing, friends, shelter, medicine, and money. These external goods, however, are good only insofar as they support the life of reason and should not become the focus of one’s life.
Aquinas’s vision of happiness is similar to Aristotle’s in that both rely on the exercise of reason. But Aquinas thinks that reason can lead us to faith, which teaches us that true happiness lies in heaven, where we will contemplate, not mathematics or physics or even ethics, but God’s very nature. Since God is both goodness and truth, this rational contemplation—which Aquinas calls the “beatific vision”—will make us perfectly happy. The beatific vision is more perfect and more lasting than the contemplative life of the philosopher favored by Aristotle. It extends forever and is unmixed with distracting things like hunger or sleepiness.
Aquinas on the Good of Procreation
Aquinas observes that creating and rearing children appears to be normal human powers, and so concludes that these things are “goods” for human beings. Procreation is a good we share with non-rational animals, making it part of our animal nature.
As is the case with all human powers, natural law theory teaches that it is wrong to thwart a natural power or to use a natural power in an unnatural way, i.e. in a way that is not directed toward the goal of that power. For Aquinas, the only goal of the inclination to have sex is procreation, and so it is wrong to engage in a sex act that isn’t naturally capable of producing pregnancy. Also, we must try to ensure the presence of every circumstance under our control that would enable sex to lead to procreation. Since contraception is under our control, but infertility isn’t, humans are allowed to have sex while infertile, but are not allowed to use contraception.
Procreation isn’t a virtue, like courage or love, so we don’t have to do it. Even traditionalist Catholics don’t mandate that people procreate as much as possible—only that people refrain from preventing pregnancy through artificial means. (From what I understand, natural means, such as prolonged breastfeeding or strategic abstinence, are permitted, even if they are undertaken solely to prevent pregnancy.)
Procreation and Happiness
The procreation and rearing of children is supposed to be a “good,” something that helps human beings to become happy. But is it? This section argues that procreation does not lead to happiness if one defines that term as natural law theory does.
The problem is that the good of procreation interferes with the good of contemplation. Human powers are supposed to work together as a system to support the highest power. Brian Besong writes that “our lower powers have a natural orientation toward the fulfillment of our highest power.”[3] If you eat a healthy diet, you will have more physical and mental energy and clearer thinking. If you exercise, your body and mind are fit for contemplative work—some people even philosophize better while exercising. Friends can be a great source of intellectual stimulation.
But kids aren’t. Far from being an essential support for our highest power of contemplation, they are destructive to it. My wife and I have three kids, ages 4, 2, and 6 weeks. Since becoming a father, my free time has dwindled. There are lots of intellectual pursuits—this blog, academic research, board game design, reading for fun—that have taken a back seat to raising my children. Even my devotions have suffered. It seems that procreation and education are an exception to the rule that our natural powers constitute a seamless whole designed to help us achieve our highest end (knowing and pursuing truth) by actively using our highest power (reason).
Therefore, if happiness consists in the active use of reason, then parents cannot be happy. This is true even if parents enjoy having children, since subjective feelings of pleasure are not the criterion of happiness. After all, Aristotle and Aquinas would deny that the satisfied drunk or the satisfied playboy are truly happy. For the classical tradition, the point is not whether one experiences psychological pleasure—which I often do when I’m with my children—but whether one actively uses his highest power of reason. Parents cannot do that as well as non-parents.
It may even be wrong to become a parent, on natural law theory. Besong argues that “knowingly choosing a lesser good … over—and to the exclusion of—a higher good” is wrong. It is wrong, he claims, because “happiness characteristically involves the higher (rational goods) over lower goods, goods that are also pursued by non-rational animals and plants” (83). He makes these statements while discussing drunkenness and highness, which temporarily dim the use of reason. However, arguably, lying awake in bed while a baby cries is a less pleasurable activity that produces the same result. It’s hard to do philosophy with infant-induced brain fog. Sor Juana Inez de la Cruz (who never married or had children) claimed she could engage in intellectual activity while cooking; but could she do it while playing trains or reading a children’s book for the thousandth time?[4] Moreover, plants and animals never get drunk or high, but they do reproduce, making having children a more animalistic—and therefore lower—good than getting drunk or high. Finally, whereas a night at the bar will give you a headache the next morning, having children imparts a hangover that lasts years. The negative effects of reproduction on the use of reason are greater, at least in the long run, than the effects of alcohol or pot. Thus, it would seem to be wrong to reproduce intentionally.
Why didn’t Aquinas address this? Maybe it was because he had no kids. Maybe it was because women did all the childcare back then, and women weren’t seen as particularly good at philosophy (I assume). Either way, natural law theorists have some ‘splain’ to do.
Human Goods and Declining Fertility
Given our analysis, it is no surprise the people are having fewer children these days. People instinctively recognize that children interfere with their ability to philosophize and pursue the virtues. Just kidding—most childless people spend their extra free time on social media, vacations, or cats. But the point remains that, whatever activity constitutes happiness, children detract from performing it (unless the activity is parenting itself, which no philosopher—and certainly no parent—has ever argued).
Weirdly, Catholics seem to agree that having children interferes with the highest good. Catholic and Eastern forms of Christianity valorize people who swear never to have sex or get married. Monks and priests—like Aquinas himself—take vows of celibacy so that they can attend to the things of God. For Catholics, presumably, forsaking procreation is helpful in achieving a high level of virtue. Most of the saints, except for martyrs, were celibate. (Here are Reddit threads discussing Eastern Orthodox and Catholic saints who chose to be celibate even though they were married, although admittedly there aren’t very many.) But even ordinary people are allowed to refuse to get married or procreate for any reason or no reason.
It is also true that philosophers rarely have children. Although Aristotle had at least one son, Plato never married or had children. Augustine and Aquinas never married. Descartes never married, although he did father a daughter with his servant, weeping at her death at age 5. Rousseau, by contrast, sent all of his bastard children to a foundling hospital, where they probably died. Spinoza, Hobbes, Locke, Newton, Leibniz, Hume, Smith, and Kant all remained bachelors. Kierkegaard famously broke off his engagement to Regine Olsen. Nietzsche proposed marriage but never married. He was explicitly following Schopenhauer’s advice. To be fair, there are counterexamples. Machiavelli had seven children with his wife. Socrates, Bacon, Montesquieu, Hegel, J.S. Mill, and (surprisingly) Marx were married, and most had children. When his daughter died, Cicero fled to the countryside in mourning—and wrote a philosophical treatise about overcoming grief. Still, philosophers generally aren’t the marrying type. (Cicero and Machiavelli also lived political lives that were not wholly contemplative; their philosophical writings were not their only preoccupation.)
If both saints and philosophers agree on something, it’s probably true. Maybe reproduction is bad, possibly even wrong, because it prevents us from attaining happiness.
Why Religious People Have More Children
Is it significant that Aristotle neglects to mention procreation or rearing children in his list of virtues in The Nichomachean Ethics, while Aquinas gives a prominent place to both in the treatise on law in the Summa Theologica. (Of course, when I did a little digging, I found out that Aristotle does mention procreation in his books about animals, arguing that animals procreate to gain a sort of immortality through the preservation of their form. Still, procreation has never played a huge role in Aristotelian ethics, whereas the Catholic natural law tradition is famous for its rejection of contraceptives.)
Perhaps Aquinas’ theism gets him out of this quandary. Remember, Aquinas locates perfect happiness in heaven, not on the earth. So Christians can reproduce, if that’s what God wants, and still anticipate a (marriage-free and presumably childfree) existence in heaven. They can defer the use of their reason until they see the beatific vision or have an empty nest—whichever comes first. In this way, Christian parents can be said to “drop on the grenade,” degrading their own ability to exercise reason for the sake of creating new potential members of God’s kingdom. They can be altruistic without destroying their own ability to be happy (after death). That option isn’t available to Aristotle, who limits happiness to the terrestrial realm. Maybe that’s why religious people have more children than secular people.
Conclusion: Reproduction and Altruism
Again, I’m not sure how seriously to take this post, but it does point to a curious feature of reproduction as a human good. Reproduction seems to be directed toward the happiness of the species as a whole and not to individual members of the species. To put it in natural law terms, the inclination to have sex seems to promote the contemplative powers of humanity as a whole—by preventing the extinction of the human race—while decreasing the contemplative powers of parents. It is an altruistic power.
But natural law theory says we aren’t required to sacrifice our lives for others. Saving someone from a burning building is considered a “supererogatory” act, i.e. one that goes above and beyond the call of duty. Humans don’t have a duty to promote the survival of the species in general if it conflicts with one’s own happiness. It is meritorious to do so. but not necessary. Parenting, it seems, is either evil or heroic. No wonder we have a fertility problem.
[1] Brian Besong, An Introduction to Ethics: A Natural Law Approach (Eugene, OR: Cascade Books, 2018), 68).
[2] Besong, Ethics, 69.
[3] Besong, Ethics, 69.
[4] See her “Respuesta a Sor Filotea de la Cruz.”