I was really hopeful that Brooks would avoid making an ass out of himself this time. No such luck.
After comparing the liberal and conservative reactions to the Schiavo case — and crusing at a fairly rapid clip along the Highway of Reasonableness, only to slip over the Razor Edge Of Overgeneralization and plummet into the Chasm Of Mental Mondrian Paintings, we get this:
The central weakness of the liberal case is that it is morally thin. Once you say that it is up to individuals or families to draw their own lines separating life from existence, and reasonable people will differ, then you are taking a fundamental issue out of the realm of morality and into the realm of relativism and mere taste.
I’ll have to be quick, because attacking Brooks feels like knocking the books out of a schoolboy’s arms.
First, the only “liberal argument” I’ve heard about the Schiavo case is that she wants to die, and that she should be allowed to. Everyone, liberal and conservative, would much prefer to see people sign living wills before they reach Schiavo’s sad, sad state.
Brooks turns this into something about being nonjudgmental, and the stereotyped liberal mushiness:
You are saying, as liberals do say, that society should be neutral and allow people to make their own choices. You are saying, as liberals do say, that we should be tolerant and nonjudgmental toward people who make different choices.
What begins as an appealing notion — that life and death are joined by a continuum — becomes vapid mush, because we are all invited to punt when it comes time to do the hard job of standing up for common principles, arguing right and wrong, and judging those who make bad decisions.
If anything, we’re standing up for freedom of contract, which is what conservatives ostensibly stand for. We’re standing up for the right to self-destiny. That’s all. There’s nothing mushy about it. If I want to die (I have no idea whether Schiavo actually wanted to die — but she’s not the point, is she? This case was about principles from the start), I should be able to put a gun to my head and do it, or request that when the time comes the hospital pull the trigger for me.
Brooks’s fundamental conceit is that there is an overriding principle here, free of any real-life confusion. Oddly, this is the same conceit that drives the assault on “activist judges”; it’s the belief that there is a set of principles out there (moral or legal; it doesn’t especially matter to Brooks et al.) that is inviolable and easy for the whole world to see. If a lawyer sits down at a set of law books, say Brooks and Scalia and their imitators, he will see a single answer. The law, or morals, are like a theorem.
No one really believes that reality is that unclouded. But where else can Brooks be going when he talks like so?
The core belief that social conservatives bring to cases like Terri Schiavo’s is that the value of each individual life is intrinsic. The value of a life doesn’t depend upon what a person can physically do, experience or achieve. The life of a comatose person or a fetus has the same dignity and worth as the life of a fully functioning adult.
I mean . . . yes, sure, no one should disagree with that. But it’s not the basis for a policy. The law recognizes the dignity of the living person, but every now and then the state puts certain people to death. Why? Well, because sometimes other rights conflict with the right to life. It’s not fair, and it’s inconsistent with a fundamental respect to life, but we can’t expect strict consistency either from the common law or from the messiness of voting.
It may well be that there is a set of principles from which we could derive ethics that we can all agree on, and among which there are no contradictions. If such a thing is possible, then one of the following is true:
- The right to life is not fundamental among this system of ethics, or
- The right to life is fundamental, and it’s thereby morally wrong to sentence humans to death.
And yet the social-conservative wing that Brooks pretends to scorn would, I assume, be the first to assert that sometimes the state has a right to kill people. Where’s the “right to life” here? It’s a right, yes, but it’s not a fundamental right.
I’m very rambly, because it’s very late. I just hate to see this turned into a debate over abstract principles that really have nothing to do with the case at hand. I’ll accept that there is at least one principle undergirding the Schiavo case: people ought to be able, if possible, to choose the way in which they die. This immediately turns away from a question of principle, into one of policy — namely, how do we establish what someone wanted before they became incapable of telling us? Fortunately we have a majestic common law that establishes precisely the will that we’re looking for. When we’re lucky, people leave behind their wills and assign durable power of attorney. Then we know what they want, which should be the only principle that anyone cares about.
When we do get cases like Ms. Schiavo’s, they’re irretrievably messy, and no recourse to hallowed principles is going to clean it up, no matter how much Brooks would wish it to be so.
I wrote all of the above before finishing the final few paragraphs of Brooks’s essay. Finishing it, he’s basically making my point — that liberals focus on laws, whereas conservatives focus on principles:
If you surveyed the avalanche of TV and print commentary that descended upon us this week, you found social conservatives would start the discussion with a moral argument about the sanctity of life, and then social liberals would immediately start talking about jurisdictions, legalisms, politics and procedures. They were more comfortable talking about at what level the decision should be taken than what the decision should be.
Laws exist, at least in part, to codify principles and make them flesh. A law is a philosophy taken out of the academy and applied to real people. Rather than judging each new case as a mere instance of a grand principle, we make a trial out of it and decide the new case based on its particulars. We bring juries in, at least in part, because they might see things in this case that sclerotic judges would have written off as a mere instance of a type that they’d seen thousands of times before. The reason we have laws is because we have explicitly thrown off morals as our guidepost through complex situations.
Perhaps law doesn’t provide as much guidance as a moral, but I thought we considered that a virtue?