Dr. Philip Rolnick, a St. Thomas professor of theology, said that over the last 40 years “Barbour has been perhaps the most well-known figure in the field of science and religion. In fact, Ian Barbour did much to found this interdisciplinary study in the contemporary academy.”

Ian Barbour lecturing at Carleton College on the relationship between religion and science. (Photo by Kate Trenerry, courtesy of Carleton College.)

Dr. Alan Padgett of Luther Seminary will open the program with an overview of Barbour’s accomplishments. Next, Dr. Nathan Hallanger of Augsburg College will present the paper “A Brief History of Ian Barbour’s Work.”

Following a short video, Barbour will take questions from the audience.

The program is free and open to the public and will be followed by a reception and refreshments. It is co-sponsored by St. Thomas’ Theology and Philosophy departments and the Science and Theology Network.

Barbour, who will turn 90 later this year, earned his doctorate in 1949 at the University of Chicago, where he studied with Italian physicist Enrico Fermi. He went on to teach at the University of Kalamazoo, where he chaired the Physics Department, and later enrolled at the Yale Divinity School to study theology and ethics.

Barbour joined the Religion and Physics departments at Carleton College in 1955 and became Carleton’s first professor of science, technology and society. He has written many books and articles on science and religion and in 1999 received the Templeton Prize for Progress in Religion.

For more information contact Dr. Philip Rolnick, chair of the Science and Theology Network, at parolnick@stthomas.edu or visit this website.

Christopher Toner

Philosophy is the pursuit of wisdom – this is the meaning of the word, but we also might say it consists in asking “why” in a serial and dogged fashion. Growing up in a household at once Catholic and academic (my father was a political scientist, and my mother, not yet a convert to Catholicism, was taking courses and reading widely in religion), I think I was sort of groomed to ask “why” in such a way. I entered college intending to study physics as a way of answering such questions, but early on I took a required philosophy course that changed my path. The course began with what philosophers call the issue of personal identity – what makes you the same person over time? I approached this by asking questions about whether the Star Trek characters who entered a transporter in one location were the same people as those who came out at the other end – after all, those people were assembled from different atoms and so forth (and what if there was a malfunction and two Kirks walked out of two different transporters?). I was intrigued, and by the time the course moved on to arguments for and against the existence of God, the mind-body problem and the nature of morality, I was won over.

I was drawn to moral philosophy, in particular, by the influence of another Notre Dame professor from whom I took a class. In the English-speaking world, most moral philosophers work in one of three schools of thought: utilitarianism (focused upon the consequences of actions), deontology (focused upon moral rules or laws) and virtue ethics (focused upon character). This course took a historical view of the subject, asking which school could most effectively criticize the others while at the same time being best able to withstand the criticisms of the others. By the end of this course, I was convinced of both the virtue ethics approach, and the importance to the study of moral philosophy of knowledge of its history.

During graduate school, and in the years following, I have focused on virtue ethics and its history. A central claim of this school is that virtuous character and action are necessary, and rational, because they are essential to human flourishing or happiness. Some of the main questions that drove me were, if that’s the case, why doesn’t virtue ethics boil down to “enlightened self-interest,” and why, therefore, shouldn’t it be rejected as being a form of egoism? These questions held special interest for me because this approach to ethics has been central to the Catholic intellectual tradition. My dissertation and a number of published articles have focused on this question.

Much of my research also has focused on important figures in the history of virtue ethics, including Aristotle and St. Thomas Aquinas. What did they mean by the Greek and Latin terms we translate as “happiness,” and how does that bear on whether we should understand the theory they championed as egoistic or not?

The third main area of my research has been military ethics. Always interested in the field due to my own military background, I turned to researching it much more intensely out of necessity when I went to work for the Air Force. I focused on both abstract issues, such as the logical structure of just war theory, and more concrete questions, such as whether it is ever permissible to kill the innocent intentionally in war (e.g., in socalled “supreme emergencies”). I found that, in fact, virtue ethics, at least in some forms, is not egoistic. Properly understood, “happiness” or “flourishing” as used in the tradition does not refer to a private psychological state or feeling of well-being, but to the achievement, in character and in action, of human excellence – it’s concerned more with “being good” than simply with “well-being” (Aristotle, for example, held that true happiness consists in virtuous activity, not just in pleasure or satisfaction); moreover, since we are naturally social, this excellence is always excellence as a member of a community. If correct, this will enable virtue ethicists to answer what always has been one of the most important objections to their approach to moral theory.

My published work has received some attention – some appreciative, some critical. To the extent it wins acceptance, it will change the nature of key discussions of virtue ethics: It will enable philosophers to detect and (I hope) weed out forms of virtue ethics that are in fact egoistic, while allowing defenders of non-egoistic forms to dispense with a stubborn criticism and move on to other research problems.

In the area of military ethics, some of my research has bearings on how just war theory is understood and what its implications are for when and how we should fight. For example, one point I have argued in a couple of articles is that the direct, intentional killing of the innocent is always wrong – here I buck a trend among even liberal theorists of thinking that such killing can be justified in “supreme emergencies.” I hope my research here also has some practical influence – if it were to help even one soldier to understand better why the principle of civilian immunity is exceptionless, I think I would have done something meaningful. My hope is that it might do so through professors at the academies and staff colleges who may read my work.

While I have not been able to engage students in the production of my research (St. Thomas doesn’t have graduate students in philosophy, and philosophical research is anyway often a solitary endeavor), I have very much engaged them in some of the main questions that drive my research and have drawn on arguments I’ve made in my published work to provoke thought and – sometimes – a bit of controversy (in the good, discussion-provoking sense). For example, when it comes to just war theory (which we study in the Ethics class I teach most semesters), most students think that it is sometimes (rarely) permissible to kill civilians – e.g., they think that the bombings of  Hiroshima and Nagasaki were justified since, arguably, they saved so many American lives. I present an argument I’ve developed that tries to show that if they believe this, they should (to be consistent) also believe that an individual (any individual) could kill innocent people to protect himself, something most are not prepared to believe. I do this not necessarily to win the students over to my view, but to challenge them to identify assumptions they’ve (perhaps unconsciously) made, to confront the implications of conclusions they draw, and to wrestle with various views, including their own – whether ultimately to criticize them or to justify them.

Philosophy, I said, is serially and doggedly asking “why,” and trying to understand “what it’s all about.” Each philosopher starts afresh, free to ask “why” regarding any claims of his predecessors. Yet no philosopher starts from scratch – each, if he is wise, profits from the struggles of those who went before – each takes part in a great tradition. Philosophy is a conversation and debate that literally spans millennia. The prospect of furthering that conversation – even just here and there, even just a little – is a wonderful one.

Christopher Toner is assistant professor of philosophy at the College of Arts and Sciences.

 From Exemplars, a publication of the Grants and Research Office.

“For some reason or another, [Menssen] thought I would make a good editor,” Clemenson said with a chuckle. After some consideration, he said yes. The department applied for the opportunity, and by October 2008 the journal was under Clemenson’s guidance. While considering the editorship, Clemenson said he reflected on one of the key responsibilities of any professor: service. “Every faculty member is expected to not only do research and teaching, but also service. That can take a variety of forms. I thought this was one of the best fits for me. I’ve always been research oriented, and [editing] involves something very close to research.”

A commitment to service and scholarly endeavors is deeply rooted in the College of Arts and Sciences, which encourages faculty to enrich the community through “discovery, artistic activity, integration and pedagogy.” This mission gives Clemenson and other faculty members the encouragement to put in extra hours every week editing academic journals that become dear to them.

Clemenson is one of several College of Arts and Sciences professors who were nudged toward or sought positions as editors or publishers of scholarly journals. (See a list of journals on Page 17.) Philosophy professors W. Matthews Grant, Christopher Toner, Gloria Frost, Timothy Pawl, Mark Spencer and Joshua Stuchlik are part of the American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly’s faculty editing team, which is supported by department staff member Ann Hale, who is the quarterly’s managing editor. Sociology and Criminal Justice professor Lisa Waldner co-edits Sociological Quarterly, while Art History professor Mark Stansbury-O’Donnell publishes Pacific Arts Journal, and English professor Alexis Easley edits Victorian Periodicals Review.

Increasing Expertise and Personal Growth

For Easley, the most exciting part of her editing work is the development of a deeper understanding of her subject. Easley is a scholar of Victorian journalism. When she began editing Victorian Periodicals Review in spring 2012 she did not expect to develop a new and strong connection to her research.

“It’s giving me insight into [Victorian] editors,” Easley said. “It’s giving me solidarity with these individuals.”

Easley has been a member of the Research Society for Victorian Periodicals since 1998. She credits the society for mentoring her throughout graduate school. The society was founded in 1968 by scholars who were interested in Victorian journalism and studied the magazines, newspapers and journals of “every stripe” from about the 1780s until World War I, she said.

“It’s an international group of scholars. It’s pretty amazing and wonderful that we (St. Thomas) have this journal,” Easley said. “It’s quite a plum.”

Most of Easley’s work is concerned with editing the submissions, much as the philosophy faculty editing team members have their hands full with the editing and extensive review process behind the American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly.

The quarterly was founded in 1920 under the title New Scholasticism as a response to a call from Pope Leo XIII for a renewal of Catholic philosophy and theology. While the journal’s name has changed since then, its spirit of bringing reason and faith together in the area of philosophy has remained.

This mission is constantly on the editors’ minds as they process submissions to the journal. As do all academic journal editors, the St. Thomas editors seek experts in the subfields of their disciplines to act as referees who determine if each submission is worthy of publication. But before that process can begin, Clemenson and Toner dig through the submissions and determine each one’s level of appropriateness for the journal.

“Part of the beauty of philosophy as a discipline, because you’re dealing with fundamental questions, is that you can’t afford to limit yourself to a narrow specialization,” Clemenson said. The greatest benefit of editing the journal, he said, is the countless chances he is given to enrich his intellectual life by reading submissions and interacting with authors and referees.

“It’s important not to put the blinders on, but to keep perspective,” Clemenson said. He sees this branching out to learn about subfields in philosophy as a wonderful scholarly opportunity.

When Waldner was seeking new scholarly opportunities, she never dreamed of applying to a journal as prominent as Sociological Quarterly. That is, until her doctoral adviser and mentor, professor Betty Dobratz of Iowa State University, asked her to apply jointly to the Midwest Sociological Society’s call for a new editor in 2011.

After a rigorous application process, the pair was chosen. They began editing the journal in March 2012.

“Sociology is so broad, and there are some things that I know more about or that she knows more about,” Waldner said. “We thought a team made sense.” The pair’s broad knowledge base is very important for a journal such as Sociological Quarterly, which focuses on “a whole gamut” of things that sociologists study, including family, crime, politics and gender topics, Waldner said.

Waldner and her co-editor face the challenge of working together across a physical distance. Video chatting plays a big role in the editorial process, with weekly Skype appointments to discuss papers submitted to the quarterly that deserve a second look. Editing is a challenging and time-consuming process after which only about 10 percent of submitted articles are published. But to Waldner, the outcome and personal growth attached to the process make it well worth the challenge.

Waldner said the most exciting part of the editing process is when a paper goes out for review. A referee is generally at the top of his or her field and an expert on the submitted paper’s topic. “I really enjoy that it has given me an excuse to contact fairly prominent sociologists and say I’m the editor of The Sociological Quarterly,” Waldner said. “It’s providing [me] an opportunity to learn.”

It gives her the opportunity to read about almost every subfield of sociology and to identify additional topics she and Dobratz believe will be of interest to readers. Waldner said they identified Occupy Wall Street and the 2012 elections as special section topics for upcoming issues, and they regard the special topics as the perfect way to increase readership while keeping the journal, and themselves, current in sociology.

Mentoring the Next Generation

Professors are not alone in receiving new opportunities with the presence of scholarly journals on campus. Students benefit, too. They gain from the increased knowledge shared by professors in their classes.

Clemenson said he brings new articles from American Catholic Philosophical Quarterly into the classroom and finds his expanded knowledge of the field a benefit when it comes time for his students to write papers, because he can direct them to the best scholarship in the field.

“Being an editor of this journal broadens my perspectives, and keeps me from being narrowly focused on my own set of interests,” Clemenson said.

Waldner noted that expanding her knowledge outside her specialty in sociology helps her in the classroom. She believes working with the journal increases her critical-thinking skills, which she can then pass on to her students. “Folks that are involved in creating knowledge are the best to impart knowledge,” Waldner said.

The more insight the professor has, the more easily students are able to access information. Easley sees editing as a natural extension of her research and teaching. “The big picture is to bring the richness of Victorian culture to the next generation,” she said.

Some of the journals, including Victorian Periodicals Review, also provide tangible opportunities for students. English graduate student Rachel MacDonald is the first of an expected long line of students to receive an editorial assistantship with Easley.

“The experience [has] confirmed my belief in the revision process as the place where good writing becomes great writing,” MacDonald said. She was surprised at how much work goes into each issue, she said. The editing is extensive, but much of the work has “nothing to do with editing, but marketing, branding and business.”

The position allows MacDonald to be integrated in every part of this editorial process.

Pacific Arts Journal also provides a graduate student position, which is currently filled by Rachel Simmons. The journal is published and produced by members of the Art History Department under the leadership of department chair Mark Stansbury-O’Donnell. Simmons hopes to make her career working with Pacific art in some way, and Stansbury-O’Donnell believes work on the journal is an excellent opportunity for her to network in the art community.

The journal publishes articles on the art of Hawaii, New Zealand, Australia, New Guinea, the Philippines and the Pacific islands. This focus may seem very far away from Summit Avenue, but with the recent establishment of the American Museum of Asmat Art on campus, the Art History Department is showing itself as an impressive resource for Pacific art.

“She’s been brilliant,” Stansbury-O’Donnell said of Simmons. “Not everybody wants to or can teach in a classroom or curate in a museum. A publication is another place. Copy editing is not specifically an art history skill, but you could get a job editing art history journals.”

As a strong advocate for mentorship of students and recent graduates, Waldner seeks to pull her former students into Sociological Quarterly.

“I reach out to my [former] students and provide them with opportunities,” Waldner said. The newest member of the journal’s editorial board is 2004 St. Thomas graduate Valerie Clark. Clark is a research scientist for the Minnesota Department of Corrections. “It gets her professionally engaged, and it’s something she can put on her résumé,” Waldner said. “I look forward to inviting more [students] in the future to give them experience.”

Providing Visibility

Each of the scholarly journals edited or published in the College of Arts and Sciences provides new information and exciting opportunities to the faculty who work on them. Editing a journal also brings recognition among other scholars. Clemenson describes the responsibility of housing a scholarly journal at St. Thomas as a true “vote of confidence” by a scholarly discipline.

“Our institution was entrusted with this responsibility,” Clemenson said. “That speaks well of our department.”

Read more from CAS Spotlight.

For the past three summers, graduate students and beginning professors of philosophy and theology have traveled from around the world to attend the St. Thomas Summer Seminar in Philosophy of Religion and Philosophical Theory, which is led by Rota and coorganizer Dean Zimmerman of Rutgers University, and funded by the Templeton Foundation. The seminar they developed focuses on often neglected, yet widely sought after, contributions to a much disputed field of philosophy: philosophy as it relates to religion. Rota says it has been more than 20 years since a seminar of this magnitude was held.

The presence and popularity of the seminar marks a key change in the relationship between mainstream philosophy and religion. “Forty years ago if you were, say, a committed Christian, you would not mention that [as a philosopher],” Rota said.

But today, graduate students and faculty in top-tier philosophy programs are more open to addressing religious issues, Rota said. Theism, which always has been recognized by philosophy programs at Catholic universities, is now taken as a “serious contender” of relevant importance to all philosophers, he said, so young philosophers and theologians are jumping at the chance to attend a seminar that fills the theistic gap.

Rota sought the Templeton grant because of his interest in the work of Alvin Plantinga, who was a leader in unapologetically Christian philosophical thought. The Templeton Foundation, created by philanthropist Sir John Templeton, supports projects that involve academics asking “big questions” about human purpose. Templeton projects have been funded at several universities, including Notre Dame, Georgetown, Columbia and Oxford. The $709,000 Templeton grant to Rota’s seminar began in 2009.

In 2012, 164 applications for the seminar were received and 21 participants accepted. Applicants must be within five years of receiving their Ph.D.s, and about half the participants are graduate students and the other half junior faculty. All are among the best and the brightest philosophers and theologians from top universities around the world.

Charity Anderson, a postdoctoral fellow at Oxford University, was one of the participants last summer. “The seminar provided a unique opportunity to learn from philosophers doing cutting-edge work in the field,” Anderson said. “The sessions were stimulating, but I also enjoyed the many conversations that took place over meals and down time.”

The three-week seminar brings top academic names to St. Paul to present discussions on a variety of topics in philosophy and religion. “Most [students] of the elite programs in philosophy don’t have the opportunity to take classes in philosophy of religion,” Rota said. “Many of these students are interested in questions about God. So we want to give them a chance to learn from people who are doing the best work in that area.”

Presenters have included Alvin Plantinga of Notre Dame; Hans Halvorson and Thomas Kelly of Princeton University; Eleonore Stump of Saint Louis University; Roger White of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology; and Linda Zagzebski of the University of Oklahoma.

The seminar has covered discussion topics as specific as reductionism and the philosophy of biology, and as open as the problem of evil.

Each session begins much like a lecture, with each expert presenting a view on the topic. Generally philosophers of opposing viewpoints are chosen to present their positions, and a debate follows. Rota said summer 2012 highlights included a discussion focusing on neuroscience and philosophy by Jeffrey Schwartz, UCLA School of Medicine, and Hans Halvorson, Princeton University. Another highlight was a session on human freedom and divine foreknowledge by Linda Zagzebski, University of Oklahoma, and David Hunt, Whittier College. Rota said this puzzle is thousands of years old. “The problem of freedom and foreknowledge has to do with the question, ‘if God knows what you are going to do in the future, how can you still be free?’” Rota said, explaining the topic with enthusiasm. “How can it really be up to you if he already knows what you will choose?”

These provocative questions and expertly led debates keep enhancing the reputation of the seminar and the competitive nature of applications to participate.

Philosophy Department chair Sandra Menssen believes the seminar is a wonderful opportunity for both the St. Thomas community and scholars from around the world. She said members of her department are able to sit in on the discussions. “Rota has done a wonderful job assembling an internationally renowned group of presenters for the summer seminars,” Menssen said. “He’s brought in the best philosophers of religion in the English-speaking world to lecture.”

The seminar will return in the summer of 2014 with a fresh group of philosophers and theologians.

Read more from CAS Spotlight.

Winners will receive a “Tom and Ginny Sullivan Scholarship” to be applied to spring tuition. The first-place winner will receive a $1,000 scholarship, the second-place winner will receive a $500 scholarship, and the third-place winner will receive a $100 scholarship.

All winners will have the opportunity to present their winning papers publicly at the last Philosophy Department colloquium of the year.

Submission Guidelines

• Only current UST undergraduate students are eligible.
• Papers may be on any philosophical topic. (Be sure to see Award Criteria on the Philosophy Department website for more information.)
• The author’s name must not appear anywhere on the paper. If the author’s name appears anywhere on the paper, the submission will be returned to the student for correction before it will be considered.
• Word Limit: 3,500 words maximum. (Word limit includes all text, notes, works cited list, title, etc.)
• Deadline: Submissions must be received before midnight Wednesday, Dec. 12. Email paper to philosophy@stthomas.edu as an attachment. Include the author’s name and paper title in the body of the email, and the phrase “student essay contest” in the subject line.
• Only one submission per student will be considered. If more than one submission is received from a student, a single paper will be selected at random for consideration.

For more information visit the Philosophy Department website.

Coincidentally, fellow philosopher Gordon Marino, a professor of philosophy and director of the Hong Kierkegaard Library at St. Olaf College, has written an editorial for the Pioneer Press about the challenge of being open-minded. While I tend to agree with his basic line of thought – that it is indeed more challenging than we tend to think to be open-minded – the philosopher in me also wondered about whether it was possible to be open-minded about being open-minded and whether that entailed the possibility of being close-minded. Of course, I realize that it also is possible to be close-minded about being open-minded – but that is a completely different matter.

Dr. Stephen Laumakis

I mention this because some of my colleagues at St. Thomas – especially those with liberal, Democratic and progressive leanings – tend to think that I am close-minded politically, if not universally, because I tend to hold views (at least for the sake of argument) that they find, well, unenlightened and mindless.

I think that they see themselves as independent, impartial and open-minded people who come to their conclusions based on good reasons and the facts. Yet, as Marino warns us, thinking impartially – with an open mind – is not as easy as we tend to think it is, precisely because it “requires an ability to acknowledge the views that we are attached to, as well as the willingness to be triply careful about dismissing arguments that might rub our cherished positions the wrong way.” So, I started wondering if I am or could be open-minded in that way. Here’s what I discovered.

For better or for worse, I think of myself philosophically as a closet Platonist and/or “recovering” Thomist (of the strict observance) – which simply means that I tend to think things have essences – a metaphysical principle that makes a thing be the kind of thing it is (i.e., the essence of a tree makes a tree be a tree; the essence of a dog makes a dog be a dog and not a cat or some other animal), and that our knowledge and actions with regard to them is and ought to be based on this metaphysical fact.

Recently, however, I’ve begun to have serious reservations about such an essentialist view because it seems to be out of harmony with my experience and how things seem to be in the world. Or at least with how many of my colleagues see things.

I’ve begun to wonder whether the Buddha may have been right about things lacking fixed essences (i.e., the denial of my essentialist view), and reality being a function of how we see it – or how things appear to us, at least in part, because of our own conceptual habits and frameworks and our tendency to see things in a karmically determined and influenced way.

Take Olympic competition. For the life of me, I simply cannot see (because of my own karma?) how any true competitor can feel good about “winning” a silver or bronze medal. Doesn’t that just mean that they were first or second loser? As far as I see things, the point – the essence, if you will – of any competition is victory (especially if you’re keeping score). Everyone other than the winner just needs to work harder and practice more, not be recognized with a prize for losing! Many of my colleagues think I’m wrong about this, but I just can’t see the point or truth of saying someone “won a silver or bronze medal.” In my mind (and in my neighborhood) that just means you were a loser.

Assuming – for the sake of being open-minded – that I might be wrong about Olympic medals and what the essence of competition is, led me to wonder about just what I think a marriage is (and even if it is the kind of thing that might have an essence). This is, of course, a different question from the ballot initiative Minnesota voters will face on Nov. 6 about whether a specific definition of marriage should be enshrined in the state constitution. I thought I knew what marriage was because I’ve been in one for the last 21 years. But some of my colleagues think I’m wrong about that too. Marriage, so they say, is essentially about love and commitment, and not the sex of the individuals who enter into it.

Lastly, let’s consider one of the ongoing partisan talking points for this cycle: Who gets credit for building things? I definitely know the Buddha was right about interdependent arising – that “things,” understood as processes, events and happenings, arise from causal interactions involving myriad other processes, events and happenings, and that simple atomistic and dyadic cause-effect talk is a colossal over-simplification and falsification. But like Saint Augustine, I’m willing to take the blame for my own mistakes. My real problem, I guess, is seeing how I could have made any in the first place.

All of this has led me to wonder that perhaps the real essence of being open-minded is being able to see that you might just be wrong even when you think that’s impossible! I doubt it – but I could be wrong – maybe.

Steve Laumakis is a professor of philosophy and director of the Aquinas Scholars Honors Program.

The Cool Talk series is sponsored by the university’s Murphy Institute for Catholic Thought, Law and Public Policy.

The series, which explores Catholic positions and other perspectives on provocative issues of law and policy, will focus this year on the challenges of religious freedom around the world and address topics such as anti-Sharia laws in the United States, religious freedom and progressive politics, and public education, vouchers and charter schools.

“There is much to be discussed about religious freedom at this point in our history – beyond the current U.S. flash points emerging from the controversy surrounding the health-care mandate,” said Dr. Don Briel, director of the Center for Catholic Studies at St. Thomas.

Bishop Charles Morerod

“It’s important to examine the many threats to religious liberty around the world so we can better understand what freedoms are at stake both here and abroad. It is timely, too, as we approach the 50th anniversary of one of the most significant documents of the Second Vatican Council – Dignitatus Humanae – the Declaration on Religious Freedom. The preparatory discussions for the document, promulgated by Pope Paul VI in 1965, began in 1962,” he said.

Speaking at the first lecture in this year’s series will be the Most Rev. Charles Morerod, 50, who since November has been bishop of the diocese of Fribourg, Lausanne and Geneva, Switzerland. He will speak on “Vatican II’s Declaration on Religious Freedom: The View from Europe.”

Prior to his appointment as a bishop in Switzerland, Morerod spent 15 years in Rome, most recently as rector of the Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas, also called the Angelicum. He also has served as secretary general of the International Theological Commission and as a consultant to the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. In June he was named to the Congregation for Catholic Education.

A member of the Dominican order and a native of Switzerland, Morerod was ordained a priest in 1988. He holds a doctorate in philosophy from the Catholic University of Toulouse and a doctorate in theology from the University of Fribourg. An editor of the journal “Nova et Vetera,” he has written on the doctrinal and philosophical aspects of ecumenism.

While serving at the Angelicum, Morerod was academic director of the Rome program for University of St. Thomas’ Catholic studies students.

For information about future programs in the series, including an Oct. 23 program on the dangers of anti-Sharia laws, visit the Terrence J. Murphy Institute website.

Application has been made for an “elimination of bias” continuing-legal-education credit.

Related “Hot Topics: Cool Talk” program: Sept. 25 lunch and forum

Bishop Charles Morerod, along with Father Reginald Whitt, O.P., a professor of law at St. Thomas, will discuss “Vatican II on Religious Freedom: European and American Perspectives” at a 12:30 to 1:30 p.m. luncheon program on Tuesday, Sept. 25, in Room 235 of the School of Law on St. Thomas’ Minneapolis campus.

The lunch and program are free and open to the public but registration is required. To register and for more information, visit the Terrence J. Murphy Institute website.

Though I had traveled to and around Tibet many times in the past, it occurred to me during our group trip to the majestic Lake Namtso that I had never been inside a nomad tent. For more than a thousand years Tibetan nomadic herders have come to the pastures on the shore of this lake during the summer season, and their yak-hair tents look little different than they would have hundreds of years ago. So when our students’ nylon North Face tents were pitched at the edge of the lake, it wasn’t merely an opportunity for me and my students to wonder about these nomads, it was also a time for the nomads to wander nearby and stare at their temporary neighbors. I asked one of the young nomads if it would be OK for some students to see the inside of her family’s tent. She consented, and I went with five students to their tent, which was only one or two hundred meters away from our own campsite.

The contents of the yak-hair tent, which looked to be about 10 meters wide, were rather sparse. It had a fire pit in the middle with some small rugs placed around it, and was ringed by numerous sacks containing all the family’s clothes, food and supplies. No sooner had we entered the tent than the young woman began stoking the yak-dung fueled fire and putting a pot for tea on top. Oh! Why didn’t it occur to me that we’d be offered tea? I was actually pretty excited to get a cup of traditional Tibetan tea, but I was worried about my students. Tibetans add butter and salt to their tea, and most Americans find it quite … well, revolting.

This experience had me thinking about the role that tea plays in much of the world as a sign of courtesy. (Think, for example, about Greg Mortenson’s Three Cups of Tea.) Had we not been offered tea, none of us would have noticed its absence or been offended. But to this Tibetan nomad, not providing tea for a guest would have been a sign of disrespect and an embarrassment for her family. I wonder how many things we did that would have been considered rude by these nomads.

Tibet is an Ideal Place for Reflection

Less than 24 hours after St. Thomas’ May graduation ceremonies I departed from Minneapolis with a group of students on a four-week study-abroad program in the Tibet Autonomous Region of China. The students were taking part in my comparative ethics course, learning about both the foundational ethical theories of Western philosophy and core themes in Buddhist ethics. For the students it was an opportunity to fulfill the university’s second core requirement in moral and philosophical reasoning, but to do so in a unique cultural setting that would bring to life the ethical principles learned in a standard ethics course. For me it was an opportunity to use my expertise in Tibetan philosophy and culture and to provide students with an educational experience that would broaden their perspectives of the world.

It’s difficult to overestimate the value associated with experiencing a foreign culture. Immersing yourself in a different cultural setting not only broadens your understanding of the world, it can lead you to reflect on – and learn more about – your own beliefs and assumptions. In some cases, this sort of reflection leads to a reassessment of one’s values, and in other cases, it can strengthen one’s convictions. Specific geographic, religious and cultural features of Tibet make it an ideal place for this kind of reflection. Because it is situated on a plateau and surrounded by the highest mountains in the world, getting to Tibet has never been easy. Its harsh environment is one that made it an unwelcoming place for foreigners throughout history. As such, the external cultural influences on Tibet have been, until quite recently, comparatively minimal. In this way, Tibet possesses traditions and a way of life distinct from those found in other parts of the world – and, of course, distinct from those found in Minnesota.

The geographic features of Tibet also contribute to its unique religious heritage. Sandwiched between the (very different) Buddhist cultures of classical India and China, Tibet developed a form of Buddhism that borrowed from both these great traditions. Yet, owing to the geographic isolation of Tibet, the practices and traditions of Tibetan Buddhism are quite different from those found in other parts of Asia. But it is precisely these distinct Buddhist practices and traditions that make it a fertile subject of study. For, despite the seemingly unique practices of Tibetan Buddhism, at a deeper level many core ideas are shared by both Tibetan Buddhists and Christians. And in cases where there are substantial disagreements (such as on the question of whether humans have souls) learning more about Buddhist beliefs can lead to a deeper understanding of our own religious convictions.

Philosophically, many of the moral beliefs espoused by Tibetan Buddhists are in line with Anglo-European views of morality. Obviously, activities like lying, stealing and killing are all considered vices to be avoided. But even beyond these trifling similarities, the arguments traditionally given by Tibetan Buddhist scholars on practical ethics topics such as abortion and homosexuality are remarkably similar to those found in the Catholic intellectual tradition. Showing students the connections between these diverse philosophical traditions helps them grapple with their own values and beliefs, and enables them to recognize the universal scope of philosophical argumentation.

Of course, there are also many ways in which the moral perspectives of Tibetans differ from those of most Americans, and many respects in which moral beliefs differ from those reached by philosophical reasoning. One of the highlights in our course was a presentation on the blind and disabled in Tibet. Because of their Buddhist heritage – a heritage that places much weight on the role of karma – Tibetans traditionally view blindness as a punishment for transgressions committed in a prior life. As a result, little is done to help those who are born blind. The treatment that many blind people receive from their own families can be quite awful. Hearing lectures on practical ethics topics like this showcases the interactions between reasoned ethical argumentation on the one hand and actual moral practices on the other hand. Moreover, because critically assessing one’s own moral practices is incredibly difficult, examining practical ethics cases in a foreign culture like Tibet helps students develop their critical faculties in a way that fosters rational evaluation of their own deep-seated values.

Nevertheless, studying in a place like Tibet is tremendously challenging. The elevation of Tibet (the capital of Lhasa is in a valley about 12,000 feet above sea level) makes physical exertion difficult. Language differences make communication with the non-English speaking segments of the population impossible for students. Economically, the Tibet Autonomous Region is poor, so the sanitation and living conditions are difficult for many Americans to tolerate. Additionally, the current political situation in Tibet adds another layer of challenges. Restrictions by the regional government make it increasingly difficult for groups like ours to travel in Tibet. Transformations in Tibet pushed by the Chinese central government make it more and more difficult to experience traditional aspects of Tibetan life.

As an example of such a transformation, one of the more notable changes in the city of Lhasa when we arrived last summer was the absence of beggars and other “street people.” While there are normally a sizable number of people seeking monetary handouts, last summer there were (relatively speaking) very few. Largely gone were the Tibetans with disabilities begging for money from locals and foreigners. Missing were the young and/or blind children playing musical instruments and singing for donations. Gone were the monks and nuns who used to sit on street corners collecting handouts while reciting prayers. It was clear that the government had done something to eliminate the presence of these beggars.

This was disappointing to me, because I had planned to draw students’ attention to the ways in which local Tibetans interact with beggars. While in many cultures it is regarded as unseemly to give to beggars (for that would lead to more people begging, and do you really know what they do with the money they get?), in Tibet their views are just the opposite. Generosity is one of the six principal Buddhist virtues, and, thus, donating to beggars is considered meritorious. Giving money to a beggar is a particularly Tibetan manifestation of politeness.

Measuring Politeness

So what’s the most polite city in the world? According to Reader’s Digest, that honor goes to New York City. Yes, New York. Hong Kong, Seoul, Mumbai and many other Asian cities all ranked at the bottom of the survey. (See here.) Upon examination, it’s not difficult to see why New York topped their study. Politeness was determined via three measures: (1) the likelihood of people holding a door open for those behind them, (2) the likelihood of others helping pick up dropped papers, and (3) the likelihood of sales clerks thanking their customers. The problem, of course, is that different cultures associate politeness with different activities. Politeness may be universally valued, but the activities that constitute it can vary from culture to culture.

The three criteria Reader’s Digest employed are ones that Americans associate with politeness, and so it’s not at all surprising that New York, the only American city in the study, came out on top. Asian cities, where being polite is no less valued, faredpoorly, because the ways they display courtesy were not measured by the study. There’s no doubt that had the study examined, say, one’s likelihood of being offered tea after entering another’s home, the results would have been very different. In my estimation, the authors of this study didn’t really understand the true nature or essence of politeness. They identified some culturally specific expressions of courtesy without grasping the underlying essence of this virtue.

Programs like the one that St. Thomas offers in Tibet give students the opportunity to recognize the limitations of their own culturally bound impressions of humanity so as to arrive at a deeper understanding of the world and themselves.

Student Journal Entry Braille Without Borders in Tibet June 11, 2010, by Katie LaSee

Today, we visited a school run by the organization Braille Without Borders. Located in a back alley of Lhasa, the school is for blind children who need a place to live and be educated. With about 50 students, Braille Without Borders does everything in its ability to provide the necessities for these bright, upbeat and hopeful children.

While walking to the school … we witnessed a beautiful shock. As we entered the brightly colored building, we saw about 25 children eating lunch, laughing, chatting and having a great time. We sat in a side room and listened to the co-founder of the project, Paul Kronenberg. His partner, co-founder Sabriye Tenberken, was not present but is the person responsible for this hidden place of magic in Lhasa. We listened to several stories of these kids who have experienced lives of turmoil and heartache just because of their vision problems; something they obviously cannot control. We were told that in Tibetan culture, having a blind child is seen as the worst form of bad karma. They believe that in their previous life the blind person must have killed someone or committed some other hideous act. This viewpoint is completely unfair and unrealistic. Parents often do not want to take care of or be responsible for their child with disabilities and so they sometimes lock them away and ignore them.

After hearing the talk from Paul and his blind co-worker, Kyila, we went to visit the children. Some spoke English, and some were only partially blind. Regardless of their condition, they all were smiling, laughing and expressing tremendous joy that we were visiting. It brought me to tears when the children started to sing. It was then that I realized how fortunate I am to have my vision, clean water and access to an exceptional education. Braille Without Borders was, by far, the best outing we have done on this trip. It opened my eyes to the disadvantaged children of Tibet, and gave me a greater drive to help children across the world who cannot help themselves.

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Harold, you were an undergraduate student in the late ’70s and early ’80s and you majored in philosophy. What led you to that major? It was actually a theology professor: Father Roy Lepak. He taught the introductory theology course, but it included a great introduction to Thomas Aquinas’ philosophy. I found it fascinating, especially discussions about substance and the levels of human knowledge. I took some introductory philosophy courses and loved them. The philosophy faculty were wonderful, and they had a following on campus.

What have you been doing since you left St. Thomas? After St. Thomas, I went to law school and practiced law with a small firm in St. Paul. I gravitated toward business and real estate law. In the early ’90s, I had several clients in high technology, and I became fascinated by what was happening in the Silicon Valley. I didn’t hesitate when I had the opportunity to take a corporate position with one of them. In 1996 I moved to California to join Diba, a high-profile embedded software systems company. We created some great technology and sold the company to SunMicrosystems. I worked for Sun for a little while (my only experience in a large corporate environment). I found it relatively easy to succeed after the startup environment – keep your head down, work hard and stay out of office politics.

I didn’t stay there long because another start-up company opportunity came along. This was 1998 to 2000 and the investment capital was flowing freely. The company was Niku, which provides software applications for professionals. We had a very successful initial public stock offering (IPO) in 2000, about a week before the selloff started.

Then my wife, Sharon, and I had the itch to come back to Minnesota. (Sharon’s a “Katie,” by the way. We met, of course, at a freshman dance.) We have three children. We put the first one through high school in California, but Minnesota was, for us at least, a better environment for raising our younger kids. When we moved back, I established a small law firm serving IT companies, and that is what I am doing today.

What an interesting career path. Would you have imagined when you were a philosophy major at St. Thomas that this would be your future? No way. As a philosophy major, I heard dozens and dozens of times, “What are you going to do with that?” I didn’t have a good response for a long time. But I am so appreciative of my background. Philosophy was very useful on the job, most importantly because I always felt I had the ability to look at a problem, determine the critical elements and figure it out. Of course, that stems not just from my philosophy degree but also from my broader liberal arts training.

You have been a member of the CAS Board of Advisors for almost three years and in that capacity you have been a big supporter of our new civil discourse initiative. Is there anything in your experience as an undergraduate student at St. Thomas that helps to explain why you feel so strongly about this topic? I think so. As philosophy majors, we studied formal logic and that teaches you humility about what it is possible to know with any certainty. If you recognize going into a discussion what you can know and what you cannot, in any rigorous sense, then I think it helps. That helps you to understand that no matter how sure you are, there is the possibility that you are wrong.

Of course, civil discourse is broader than that. I think there are two parts to the concept. First, it involves simply having respect for the dignity of other people and using good manners as a result. Second, a “discourse” should involve an objective, something we are trying to work toward together. If we can agree on an objective and agree to work together to arrive at some sort of conclusion and do so in a respectful way, then there is the possibility of progress.

This initiative is multifaceted and includes the Public Discourse Lecture Series, the establishment of an Endowed Chair in Civil Discourse and associated curricular elements. As a supporter, what do you hope to see as a result? For me, the best long-term result would be to foster a way of being on campus that spills out into the community and says, “they do things differently at St. Thomas.” We want that to be both the perception and the reality. You can hardly go a day without an example in the news that demonstrates why this is important.

Are there ways that you see other alumni being able to connect with this initiative, and if so, what are they? I think alumni and members of the community will be drawn in. The issue has a natural appeal. Civil discourse is countercultural. The idea is very much in the tradition of our patron St. Thomas, and it strikes me as something really worth getting behind. Of course, we certainly need the financial support of our alumni and friends as we work to establish the endowed chair.

Read more from CAS Spotlight

As the 70-year-old son of a Chicago firefighter begins his 43rd year in a St. Thomas classroom, he can look back on a distinguished career: holder of the Aquinas Chair in Philosophy and Theology; five times selected Teacher of the Year by students and chosen 1985 Professor of the Year by his colleagues; twice honored with other institutional awards for teaching and scholarship, and the author or co-author of more than 50 scholarly articles in some 33 periodicals and books.

Sullivan’s father was a Catholic, his mother a Jew. Given the climate of the times, they eloped, and he describes his upbringing as “being pretty much on my own among Catholics, Jews, Protestants, agnostics and atheists.” Pondering college, he told his father he was interested in history. “You can look it up,” was his father’s succinct rebuff. Sullivan returned with another proposal: “I’ll major in English; I want to be a writer.” The paternal response: “You’ll starve.” He came back a third time. “I want to study philosophy,” he said. There was no objection from his father, so he took it as approval.

Sullivan received baccalaureate and master’s degrees from DePaul University and went on to get his doctorate from St. John’s University, New York, with a thesis on 20th century analytic philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein.

When one plus one make two, what does “make” mean?

A St. Thomas alumnus who had left St. John’s philosophy faculty to return to his alma mater convinced Sullivan to apply to St. Thomas. “Without exaggeration, I gave what must be the worst (job) interview in the school’s history,” he recalls, but was still hired.

Sullivan arrived on campus in 1966, when memories still lingered of the so called “philosophy affair” in 1950. The department was then dominated by Thomists graduate-trained at Laval University, Quebec, who advocated close readings of Aquinas and Aristotle to the exclusion of secondary sources. Faculty from other disciplines challenged what they considered the intellectual narrowness of this approach and its lack of relevance to contemporary philosophical scholarship, as well as to that of the modern sciences. The controversy was settled peacefully, but it marked the beginning of a broadening of inquiry in the department.

“The department in 1966 still gave special attention to Aristotle and Aquinas because it was generally (if not universally) believed they had a great deal to say to anyone, but especially to those who accepted the claim that the church has received a matchless revelatory endowment from the lips of the savior,” Sullivan notes.

Over time, as an examination of department offerings will attest, interest in medieval philosophy has come to include figures other than Aquinas and Aristotle; ethics has found applications in biology and in the environment, as well as in business, and students can take a course in Buddhism or Indian philosophy, as well as in metaphysics.

Sullivan believes that philosophy is to theology as mathematics is to physics, yet he welcomes the evolution of the department and stresses its continuing commitment to Catholicism. “Those women and men who continue to work chiefly on Aristotle and St. Thomas often connect their research with what is going on in analytic philosophy today,” he points out, endorsing a development “entirely congruent with the urgings of the church for its philosophers to be conversant with ideas and idioms of the day.”

Russell Pannier, emeritus professor at William Mitchell College of Law and a frequent collaborator with Sullivan in academic publications, puts it this way: “For Tom, the life of the mind does not run in any narrow sluice whose current carries along only the limited concerns of some slice of the complete intellectual spectrum. Rather, his never-quenched intellectual thirst has driven him to explore an enormously broad range of issues, including those in philosophy, logic, mathematics, physics, biology, neuroscience, literature, history, theology and even chess strategies.”

In his lifelong quest for what is true – for getting the words right – Sullivan has what another colleague, Dr. John Kronen, refers to as the gift of dialectic. “Tom will only discuss an issue with a person by reasoning from principles that that person accepts,” he explains. “This is very rare … but there can be no meaningful dialogue unless both parties reason from principles the other can accept. Without that, there is not dialogue but only two concurrent monologues.”

There are few, if any, “self-evident” truths.

Sullivan is given high marks for initiating collaborative scholarship in the department. Current chair Dr. Sandra Menssen counts 11 individuals with whom Sullivan has co-authored publications, including herself in the recently published The Agnostic Inquirer: Revelation from a Philosophical Standpoint. Scholarly partnership extends to the classroom, where he has team-taught with art historians, law professors and neuroscientists, as well as with fellow philosophers.

Sullivan’s institutional service has extended beyond the normal committee work. He suggested opening classrooms free to parents of undergraduates; and the Parents on Campus Program continues today with uncounted beneficiaries. He was among faculty instrumental in founding the Center for Catholic Studies as well as an “idea person” behind St. Thomas’ Renaissance Program, which allows liberal-arts majors to take extra classes in business. He promoted “THINK St. Paul,” a lecture series bringing intellectual discussion downtown.

It is in the classroom where the veteran professor makes an indelible impression. Oddly enough, when he is asked for the secrets of his teaching art, Sullivan’s body language betrays discomfort. He offers no pat list, only some guidelines. “Strive for clarity and justification of claims above all,” he advises. “Dig for foundations. Defamiliarize what everybody ‘knows’; Jefferson aside, there are few, if any, ‘self-evident’ truths. Never fail to consider what may be said against your view. See the new through the lens of the old, the old through the lenses of the new. Be far less concerned about who said it than whether it is true. You are not just learning philosophy, you are building a worldview – your own.”

Not surprisingly, student reviews of his teaching turn up such quotes as “I have learned so much about how to do philosophy in this class. Dr. Sullivan’s way of questioning truths that I once supposed to be self-evident has greatly helped me in my critical thinking and argumentation skills.” Another writes, “This is the most interesting class I have ever taken … my brain almost exploded a few times. It was great.”

Dr. Mark Dienhart, an alumnus and UST executive vice president and chief administrative officer, remembers a “smart, well-prepared teacher who wanted to know all of us by name and was obviously pleased when a good and correct student response came (from his Socratic Method of instruction). He celebrated with us. He wanted us to learn and succeed. There was a lot of laughter and kindness. I think he treated us much as he would his own kids.”

Another former student now an associate of Sullivan’s, Dr. Michael Winter, credits him with a career choice. “I came to this university with very little focus or vision about what I wanted to do with my life,” Winter recalls. “After being inspired in Dr. Sullivan’s courses, I knew I wanted to be a philosopher. He is the perfect role model for a Catholic philosopher – a hard mind but a soft heart.”

The soft heart could mask tough love. A man in his 30s once approached Sullivan in a neighborhood eatery. “You won’t remember me, but you were my academic adviser,” he began. “One day in your office reviewing my academic record, you asked what I wanted to do after graduation, and I replied that I wanted to be a veterinarian. You looked at me and said in a kind but convinced tone, ‘There’s no way in hell you’re getting into veterinary school with these grades.’ I thought about that at night in my dorm bed. I started studying, the grades came up, I got into veterinary college and now practice in Highland Park. I just want to thank you for changing my life.”

The soft heart also could mean just that. Several years ago, a fellow philosopher had to leave St. Thomas for medical reasons partway through a semester. Already teaching two courses of his own that semester, Sullivan, according to the department chair at the time, immediately phoned to say, “I can pick up two of his three classes.”

Pannier describes Sullivan’s humanity: “He listens carefully to others before responding, and, when he does respond, he invariably does so in an accepting, friendly, gentle and quietly respectful manner which transparently affirms the intrinsic worth of the other parties to the conversation as well as the intrinsic worth of their thoughts.”

Another trait for which Sullivan is notorious is stereotypical professorial absent-mindedness. The stories about him are legion, a friend reports, such as spending an hour looking for his car in the parking lot before remembering he walked to work; taking his dog for a walk, tying it to a tree and returning home without man’s best friend; eating a colleague’s lunch thinking it was his, and picking up unguarded keys as his own.

In a biographical form filled out shortly after he joined the faculty, Sullivan scrawled across the question about avocations and special interests: “None. When not working, I just mope around waiting for something to go wrong.” Today, the self-deprecatory tone is somewhat softened. “I have no hobbies,” he says, “but I like to hang around my wife, Ginny, our six kids and 16 grandchildren. I watch a bit of baseball, read history, preferably revisionist, as well as in the sciences and art history. I’m not much fun. I don’t play bridge, drink (much), dance, or play an instrument. I can whistle, though.”

In a time when what might be called mass-market atheism is fronted by contemporary philosophers like Richard Dawkins, Daniel Dennett and Sam Harris, it is refreshing to hear Sullivan tell of walking a lot along Minnehaha Creek, “thinking about philosophy and the great gift of revelation” as well as about “love of the church and the sacraments, particularly the Eucharist.” He spends several hours a week going to Mass and reading spiritual works. “It’s the sort of thing I am reluctant to discuss much, but it’s at the center of life, out of which grows everything affecting family, friends, acquaintances and strangers. It contributes to my wonder about the world.”

About which he is trying to get the words right.

Was the Iraq War waged by legitimate authority? Our government has the responsibility of the common good of the United States (Catechism §2309), so this criterion was met. Hopes that judgments about national security can be made by the United Nations hardly survive the experience of the Srebrenica Massacre in July 1995.

Was there a just cause? The invasion has to be seen against the backdrop of the liberation of Kuwait. The armistice which ended that war reasonably demanded, among other things, that Iraq destroy its remaining stockpiles of chemical weapons and agree not to develop nuclear weapons. What finally became of Saddam Hussein’s chemical weapons remains a matter of guesswork. What is clear is his blatant violation of the conditions of the ceasefire. In 2003, most observers thought that he still had chemical weapons. His nuclear ambitions also were a matter of legitimate concern.

Iraqi compliance was important because of Hussein’s history of aggression (invasions of Iran in 1980 and Kuwait in 1990) and his history of the use of chemical weapons (against Iran and against Iraqi Kurds). That history was reason enough to demand that he give up chemical weapons and nuclear ambitions. Compliance was made even more urgent by his sponsorship of terrorism (documented in the recently released report of the Iraqi Perspectives Project, “Saddam and Terrorism”).

Thus, when President George W. Bush launched his war on terrorism in 2001, Hussein found himself, as a sponsor of terrorism, on the wrong side.

Was invading Iraq the last resort in enforcing chemical disarmament and blocking Hussein’s nuclear ambitions? Other methods had been tried. Economic sanctions were imposed in 1991, but Hussein managed to deflect the harm they did onto Iraq’s citizenry. The United Nations was unable to run the “Oil for Food” program without corruption. Attempts to reform the sanctions regime were blocked by Russia, and support for its continuation was crumbling. The limited use of military force in response to the expulsion of U.N. arms inspectors (Desert Fox in 1998) also was ineffective.

By late 2002, the United States faced three options: (1) to end sanctions, allowing Hussein to resume his chemical and nuclear weapons development programs (as the Duelfer Report showed he had every intention of doing), (2) to maintain the sanctions regime, inefficient and ineffective as it was, or (3) to threaten military action. Somehow, critics of Bush’s decision to go to war never say which of the other options they would have chosen.

Bush’s threat of force finally secured some pretence of cooperation from Hussein, but not the reality. At that point, a reasonable threat having been made, the threat had to be carried out. Failure to do so would have made future threats less credible and future wars, consequently, more likely.

Did resort to war meet the criterion of proportionality? It was reasonable to believe in advance that it would. Although innocent people would die as a side effect of the war, innocent people were dying as a side effect of the sanctions. Innocent people also were dying as a direct effect of Hussein’s approach to government. Human Rights Watch estimates that Hussein killed as many as 290,000 people over 20 years. As a result of the post-invasion war against Iraq by al-Qaeda, the death rate in Iraq has not decreased by much, but it has not gone up, either.

As expected, the war brought many good effects to Iraq, such as freedom of religion and political liberty – both of which returned to Iraq in 2003 – and the prospect of reintegrating Kurdistan with the rest of Iraq. As Bush said in London in November 2003 when asked to comment on the protests against his visit: “I’ve noticed that the tradition of free speech … is alive and well here in London. … They now have that right in Baghdad, as well.”

Was there a prospect of success? The immediate objective – removal of a regime that supported terrorism and sought nuclear weapons – was achieved quickly. I address the matter of longer-range objectives below.

Was war waged with the right intention? No serious critic has offered any reason to doubt this.

Al-Qaeda’s attack on Iraq beginning in 2003 changes the analysis above in one key respect. The cause that justified the invasion of 2003 was the danger posed by Iraq’s continued unjust violation of the conditions of the ceasefire of 1991. The just cause for fighting now is different. The current, democratically elected government of Iraq has asked for our help in fighting the terrorists who now bomb pilgrimages, funerals and marketplaces.

Surely fighting against such terrorists constitutes a just cause. Those terrorists are already waging their war against the Iraqi people. (They could not have  expected to kill GIs at the Golden Mosque or at the Baghdad pet market.) There is no resort but for someone to fight against them. Since Iraq is still rebuilding its army and police force, for the time being that means us, along with our British, Polish, Georgian and other allies. And, as the Petraeus-Odierno strategy has shown, there is a real prospect of success. The number of civilians and soldiers killed by the enemy has fallen sharply. Equally important, key pieces of legislation have now been passed by the Iraqi parliament, promising progress on the political front.

Both the original invasion and the continuation of the war today meet the criteria of the Just War Theory.

Further Reading: Both The Ethics of War (Manchester University Press, 1997) by A. J. Coates and Morality & Contemporary Warfare (Yale University Press, 2001) by James Turner Johnson provide helpful insight on this topic. And for a revisionist account with which I disagree on a number of points, there is Just & Unjust Wars (Basic Books, 1977) by Michael Walzer.