The chance of finding a philosophy professor like J. Budziszewski is about as rare as finding a teenage student who doesn’t believe that right and wrong, like beauty, are in the eye of the beholder. In Pandemic of Lunacy Professor Budziszewski makes a compelling case for the opposite view, one seldom embraced nowadays even by members of his own profession, namely, that right and wrong are objective categories and not, in general, “vague and equivocal.” Nor are they “different for everyone.”
If the reader
immediately objects that different cultures have different notions about what
is right and wrong, the former nihilist and Nietzsche aficionado who
has ruffled many feathers at the University of Texas has a logical answer for
you, one that distinguishes what right and wrong actually are from what any
person or culture asserts they are.
Beyond that currently heretical belief, Budziszewski provides scholarly
evidence that the moral elements in the Ten Commandments are, in some form,
embedded in all cultures. You’ll have to
buy the book to get a reasoned and likely convincing reply to your objections,
but be warned that Margaret Mead’s conclusion about South Sea Islander sexual
license (precursors to those now extant in America) has been debunked.
Budziszewski’s
analysis concerning basic concepts of right and wrong serves as a foundation
for the other topics he addresses in this short, six-part tour de force,
written for “laymen” and employing a bare minimum of philosophical terminology. Part one, “Delusions about Virtue and Happiness”
is followed by topics that concern politics, sexuality, being human, reality,
and lastly, God and religion. That final
category shouldn’t mislead folks into thinking the book is based on religious
dogma. It is not. Aristotle is the philosopher Budziszewski
relies on most, even in the final section about God. Accordingly, when speaking about happiness,
the professor points readers toward Aristotle’s definition of the term that
concerns an activity, living well, not merely a feeling of pleasure.
Natural law and human
nature are two concepts that comprise the measuring rods by which the author
exposes our contemporary lunacy. For
example, the “natural” function of human sexuality, Budziszewski argues, is
procreation, just as the “natural” function of eating is body nourishment. When that natural function is ignored, a host
of negative consequences follow. If
pleasure is considered sex’s primary purpose (as students are inclined to tell the
professor) its “natural” connection to procreation and family formation is suppressed,
thus leading to promiscuity, STDs, pornography, and the severance of marriage itself
from procreation and the family. Needless
to say, the sixties-initiated revolution in sexual mores has been a disaster
for children, a quarter of whose fathers aren’t in the home and whose mothers likely believe
that nurturing them at home is an inferior vocation compared to the feminist
ideal of income equality with men.
The preceding paragraph
provides an example of Budziszewski’s warning: “Just as lies beget lies,
self-deceptions beget new self-deceptions.”
Stated otherwise, when one violates natural law, the negative
consequences have a cascading quality. So
in addition to the harmful effects listed above about sex-related delusions, one
must add millions of abortions, legislation expanding abortion’s scope, and in
recent years even abortion’s celebration.
The taking of human life in utero
also cheapens human life itself and makes suicide and euthanasia more
common. (I offer as additional evidence
this article about Canada’s MAiD program that now accounts for one in twenty deaths in
that country.)
Of course none of
these things are moral problems, at least intellectually, for those who insist
that natural law is a social fiction.
But Budziszewski argues persuasively that conscience exacts a cost for violating its moral parameters. Sometimes that price is compulsive repetition
of the immoral behavior, often leading to addiction. Sometimes the penalty is destruction of the
ability to truly love another person sexually. And for some individuals unacknowledged guilt
compels them to recruit others into sharing and celebrating their ruling vice
-- a form of confession without contrition. Of course we all pay the price of living in a
disordered world brought about by disordered loves and beliefs.
Budziszewski’s
penultimate lunacy (#29) deals with the popular proscription against “judging,”
an incoherent dogma encapsulated in the verbal challenge, “Who’s to say?” As the professor observes, this rejection of judgment amounts in point
of fact to a judgment against something else, usually traditional beliefs such
as the definition of marriage or the humanity of an unborn child. After confounding his imagined interlocutor by
asking, “Who is to say that tolerance is right?” Budziszewski concludes his
lesson by noting that nonjudgmentalism isn’t what it seems to be. “It is always
a disguise for imposing a moral judgment without having to give reasons for it,
just by pretending not to be making one.”
Some of the more
traditional philosophical delusions that Budziszewski addresses include the
belief that everything is material, that humans are naturally good or bad, that
humans have no “nature” at all, and the belief that humans are merely
animals. Whatever the topic, the
professor writes clearly and cogently, employing logic, experience, and common
sense to support conclusions that are sure to confound and possibly infuriate
persons tied to the unexamined delusions that underpin the lunacy of our time.
Richard Kirk is a freelance writer and a retired
philosophy and religion instructor. His
book Moral Illiteracy:
"Who's to Say?" is also available
on Kindle , as is his book Poetry with a Moral Edge.
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