Gray Matters - Mark Lowery

Conscience and Authority
It's not "either/or," it's "both/and."

A few issues ago [Anniversary Special 1997-1998], we talked about the error, noted in Veritatis Splendor, of creating a theological category from the psychological realm — a kind of psychological reductionism that we could term "psychologism." For example, when self-esteem becomes the be-all and end-all of our lives, instead of a by-product of a virtuous life, then a good concept has been misused and can easily lead us astray.

Let's now consider how psychologism considers the phenomenon of conscience. Psychologism tends to separate conscience and authority, suggesting we should act from within the wellsprings of our being, from our conscience, rather than acting how some authority tells us to act.

It seems a lot of theologians and pastors are against the very idea of "authority."
Consider this from a popular textbook in moral theology by Fr. Richard Gula: "For moral maturity, one must be one's own person. It is not enough merely to follow what one has been told. The morally mature person must be able to perceive, choose and identify the self with what one does. On the moral level, we perceive every choice as a choice between being an authentic or inauthentic person. Or, as some would put it today, we act either in character or out of character. In short, we give our lives meaning by committing our freedom. The morally mature adult is called to commit his or her freedom, not submit it. As long as we do not direct our own activity, we are not yet free, morally mature persons" (Reason Informed by Faith, p. 124).

So what does it mean to "commit one's freedom?"
One does not simply "commit his or her freedom." One commits freedom to something or someone. The Catholic commits one's freedom to Christ, and to the sacramental presence of Christ in history, the Church. This type of commitment involves submission, but submission understood positively as being necessary for real freedom. We are only truly free when we submit our lives to God, through Christ and the sacramental Church. Then, one need not separate freedom and authority. One can be "one's own person" precisely by "following what one has been told." One of the stunning accomplishments of Veritatis Splendor is its emphasis that our radical uniqueness and dignity is in harmony with submission to the one truth.

Are you saying that, just like musicians or athletes, we will never truly fulfill our potential as humans without first submitting to authorities who are experts in the field?
Exactly. Let's not forget that as men and women with fallen human natures, we have the tendency to want to "do it my way." Due to the concupiscence that still accompanies our healed natures, we have a proclivity toward misuse of our freedom. Hence, we must be suspicious of our "experience." We may find ourselves having to act on the basis of authority alone when our concupiscent tendency pushes us in the opposite direction. In such instances, we still act "authentically," or "in character," because we have freely embraced a sacramental view of reality which includes a particular view of authority. Someone who says "I did this because the Church told me to do it" is not necessarily at a low stage of moral maturity at all.

Someone told me I'm preoccupied with my "super-ego." What's that?
Revisionist moral theology argues that conscience has been confused in the past with what we now know to be the super-ego: "the ego of another superimposed on our own to serve as an internal censor to regulate our conduct by using guilt as its powerful weapon" (Gula, RF, p. 124). There is, of course, a real truth to the notion of the super-ego, and it ought be distinguished from the conscience. But revisionist theologians tend to think of the super-ego and the conscience in either/or terms: you do something because you were trained to and feel guilty if you disobey, or you do something because you yourself have internally assented to it.

In fact, there is a much more mutual relationship between the self and the super-ego. In our childhood, the self is primarily formed vis-à-vis external authority. Gradually we learn to interiorize what we have learned as a child. For instance, we learn not to take without asking, not out of fear-induced guilt from a higher authority, but out of an inner respect for the possessions of others. In this process, we also learn to separate truths learned from authority in childhood, such as, "Don't steal," from other non-essential aspects of our lives learned from authority, like, "Be home at 5:00."

You're saying there are different kinds of authority?
Correct. Some authority is false authority, as when a parent makes an unrealistic or even evil demand on a child. Some authority is somewhat arbitrary, and must be followed or not followed prudently, such as certain deadlines, age-limits and the like. A mature person must capture the spirit of such authority and apply it prudently. Finally, some authority is true and ought always to be followed, simply because it has a higher vantage point on reality than we do. In fact, a truly mature person actually interiorizes a fidelity to such authority precisely because at times, it is difficult to feel committed.

For instance, a married man who's experiencing a "mid-life crisis" may have lost his romantic feelings of attraction for his wife, and even, perhaps, his feeling of commitment to her. These feelings, whether he "feels" them or not, exist at the level of emotion. Still, he must be faithful to his marital vow, which he made knowing full well that difficult moments would arise. At such difficult moments, the man is greatly assisted by having interiorized a commitment to a true authority, such as the Church, which calls him to remain faithful despite his "experience" and his feelings. If asked why he is remaining faithful, the man may well respond "because the Church tells me I must." Is this simply the super-ego in operation? Should the man be more "authentic" and follow his inclinations? Is this an immature reaction based on authority alone?

A great example of this inner embrace of right authority is in the classic novel Jane Eyre. Jane is sorely tempted to yield to the very human and understandable request of her close friend, Mr. Rochester. But she recognizes that that request — however much it resonates with her experience and that of Rochester — is not in accord with the truth:

"I will keep the law given by God; sanctioned by man. I will hold to the principles received by me when I was sane, and not mad — as I am now. Laws and principles are not for the times when there is no temptation: they are for such moments as this, when body and soul rise in mutiny against their rigour; stringent are they; inviolate shall they be. If at my individual convenience I should break them, what would be their worth? They have a worth — so I have always believed; and if I cannot believe it now, it is because I am insane — quite insane: with my veins running fire, and my heart beating faster than I can count its throbs. Preconceived opinions, foregone determinations, are all I have at this hour to stand by: there I plant my foot" (Charlotte Bronte, Jane Eyre).

Should Jane follow her inclinations? Is hers an immature reaction based on authority alone?

Well, it sounds like Jane's response, like that of the faithful husband you mentioned, may well indicate a high degree of moral maturity.
It recognizes, to put it in technical language, the proclivity of our healed natures toward fallen nature. A true authority has been interiorized, and it is this type of authority that exists in mutual, not antagonistic, relationship with the inner self or the conscience. The question is not whether conscience and authority are mutual or exclusive; rather, which authorities are necessary for developing a true conscience? The right authority is in mutual relationship with the true conscience. It has nothing to do with the Freudian super-ego.

In sum, it is quite misleading to separate conscience (inner self) and super-ego (authority). Rather, the morally mature person will bring his conscience in line with the true authority, Christ in His Church.

Any good reading suggestions on the topic of psychology?
There are several fine works available that critique the contemporary capitulation to such a psychologism. See, in particular, Paul Vitz, Psychology as Religion: The Cult of Self-Worship (Grand Rapids: Eerdman's, 1977); William Kirk Kilpatrick, Psychological Seduction: The Failure of Modern Psychology (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 1983).