Against Popesplaining

A Diagnosis and Refutation

Consider becoming a Patron here for as little as $5 per month.

Introduction

As many of you know, I have a sordid past when it comes to so-called “popesplaining.” The phenomenon of “popesplaining” developed as a reaction to a genuine need in Catholic apologetics. With increasing frequency in the past few decades, popes have said or done things that are putatively contrary to the historic teaching and praxis of the Catholic Church and to the plain sense of Scripture. This fact has been exploited by enemies of the Catholic Church in their efforts to refute Catholicism or, in many cases, weaponized by these enemies to attack the ability of Catholics to “do apologetics.”

In response to this difficulty, most apologists decided to answer these putative contradictions with herculean efforts to explain the contemporary teaching and praxis in light of the historic teaching and praxis. I firmly believe that this decision was a mistake, and that unless this methodology changes among those who have taken upon themselves the role of an apologist, we will continue to damage our own witness to those genuinely seeking the truth of the Catholic Faith.

In this article, I seek to argue that popesplaining is the unnecessary and harmful acceptance of the apologetic burden of proof in pursuit of ideological purity at the expense of our witness to the truth of the Catholic faith.

A Disclaimer

I want to explain carefully what I am not saying in order to explain better what I am saying. You may have noticed that I have used the term “putative” to describe the problem that has arisen in the last few decades. For something to be “putative” is for it to appear to be such a case, abstracting from whether or not such is actually the case. Therefore, in this article, I do not seek to adjudicate whether such instances are genuinely contrary to the historic teaching and praxis or not. In fact, I believe that even the most ardent “popesplainers” concede that in certain cases there are such instances, as theologians have always conceded. From this it follows that the actual judgement that I (or anyone else) make in resolving these cases is not what is relevant to the argument I am going to lay out in this article. Rather, it is precisely the appearance of such contradictions and the involved character of the explanations that are relevant. It matters little whether such putative contradictions are actually true or simply have the appearance of truth.

Therefore, in order to understand the argument at hand, the reader should note that we are simply discussing what follows from the nature of an error as putative, not from the nature of an error as such. If we concede that there are putative errors, then we ought to draw the conclusions that follow for the mode of proceeding in light of such realities. It is not enough to object to my line of argumentation that such errors do not exist. Rather, one would need either to claim that such a character does not exist (which no one maintains) or to claim that the consequences I draw do not truly follow from the putative character of such acts and teachings.

The Role of the Apologist

The apologist differs from the theologian insofar as the apologist exercises a particular role in theology. The apologist is meant to treat the very principle of theology, i.e., Divine Revelation, insofar as he exercises a defensive role towards it by a twofold office: preaching the credibility of Divine Revelation insofar as it is manifested in the motives of credibility (signs, miracles, prophecies, etc.), and defending Divine Revelation from the objections of our adversaries.

It is the latter with which much of the apologetics of today is concerned (although there has been a hopeful resurgence of the former through the efforts of many). St. Thomas describes this role of the apologist quite well in his Summa:

[The highest science] can dispute with one who denies its principles, if only the opponent will make some concession; but if he concede nothing, it can have no dispute with him, though it can answer his objections.

Hence Sacred Scripture, since it has no science above itself, can dispute with one who denies its principles only if the opponent admits some at least of the truths obtained through divine revelation; thus we can argue with heretics from texts in Holy Writ, and against those who deny one article of faith, we can argue from another. If our opponent believes nothing of divine revelation, there is no longer any means of proving the articles of faith by reasoning, but only of answering his objections—if he has any—against faith. Since faith rests upon infallible truth, and since the contrary of a truth can never be demonstrated, it is clear that the arguments brought against faith cannot be demonstrations, but are difficulties that can be answered. (ST I, q. 1, a. 8)

This description of St. Thomas is quite clear and is based on the supernaturality of Divine Revelation. We cannot give strict demonstrations of matters of faith by appeal to natural reason. Therefore, there can be only two paths whereby we oppose those who come out against the Catholic Faith. First, we can argue from something that they already concede (e.g., we dispute with Jews from the Old Testament; cf. SCG I, c. 2), which is a proper argumentum ad hominem (not to be confused with the fallacy of the same name). Second, we can answer the objections that they have brought against the faith, since, we can be assured, each of these is a “difficulty that can be answered.”

On this second point (which is the more relevant to us here), I would like to draw your attention to another formulation that St. Thomas gives in certain places, which helpfully indicates the scope of his resolution of objections. He speaks of one of the uses of philosophy in theology as being “to resist those who speak against the faith, either by showing that their statements are false, or by showing that they are not necessarily true” (Super Boetium De Trinitate, q. 2, a. 3). In another place he makes a curious admission:

Whatever arguments are alleged against the teachings of faith, they do not rightly proceed from the first self-evident principles instilled by nature. Hence they lack the force of demonstration, and are either probable or sophistical arguments, and consequently it is possible to solve them. (SCG I, c. 7)

These two notes are quite significant in our consideration of these difficult questions, and they converge upon the same point. Broadly speaking, we can distinguish arguments into necessary (demonstrative) and probable (dialectical). For example, while we deny that the Trinity can be demonstrated by natural reason, there is no reason why we could not give various probable arguments for the truth of the Trinity that dispose the person to attend to Divine Revelation.

How does this relate to the role of the apologist? As St. Thomas indicates in the quoted passage of the Summa contra Gentiles, arguments made against truths of faith are either “probable” (i.e., not demonstrative) or “sophistical” (i.e., having some formal or material defect). Neither of these destroys the truth of faith. Therefore, as he indicates in the quoted passage of the Super Boetium De Trinitate, the apologist simply needs to show that these arguments are “not necessarily true,” i.e., that they are not demonstrative.

Here we are able to set out what is minimally necessary in our interaction with such putative errors (whether we ought to do more than this will be treated in another place). Supposing a case has been made for the papacy from Scripture and Tradition, what is minimally necessary in response to these arguments is not to refute them as sophistical (although it is perfectly possible that they are), but at least to oppose them as merely probable and non-necessary arguments that do not destroy the truth of faith.

The Fundamental Error

Before us comes a practical question regarding these putative errors. Which way do we follow? We see that there are at least three approaches:

1. We can demonstrate the truth of what is said from something they concede;

2. We can resolve the objection directly by showing the falsehood of what is said;

3. We can resolve the objection indirectly by showing that the conclusion is “not necessary.”

To highlight better the distinction between the second and third approaches, we can construct a syllogism and consider how we may resolve the argument given in it. An objection may go as follows: Pope Francis spoke error X in a non-definitive context; such an error in a non-definitive context shows that Catholicism is false; therefore, Catholicism is false.

There are three approaches we could follow in responding to the first premise of this argument. First, we can concede the first premise, admitting that Pope Francis spoke an error in such-and-such a context. Second, we can deny the first premise, rejecting the claim that Pope Francis taught an error in such-and-such a context. Third, we can “bypass” the first premise (called “transeat” by scholastic theologians), abstracting from whether Pope Francis did or did not speak an error in such a context.

The first mode of proceeding has various disadvantages in the apologetic encounter. The instances in which we may or may not withhold assent from a non-definitive teaching, while real, are quite limited (as I have discussed elsewhere), and they are not appropriate to raise when speaking with inquirers. The reason for this is that we truly seek to convert this person to the Catholic Faith. If we have already disposed this person to reject the proper obsequium that is due to non-definitive teachings, then we are damaging that person’s capacity to exercise this virtue properly as a Catholic.

The second mode of proceeding also has various disadvantages in the apologetic encounter. The burden of proof is now on the apologist to demonstrate the continuity of such a non-definitive teaching with previous teachings. There are two difficulties that render this “popesplaining” impractical.

First, from the intrinsic complexity of the task. In order to establish the continuity between two texts, we must establish three things: (a) the sense of the non-definitive teaching in the context in which it is spoken, both immediate and remote; (b) the sense of the previous teaching in the context in which it was written, both immediate and remote; and (c) the logical connection between the senses of the two passages. In some cases, this will require historical study of a kind on which specialists in the field spend entire lifetimes merely to establish the sense of one of the statements in its proper context, let alone to establish all three conditions. In the apologetic encounter this is (often) completely impractical, as experience has revealed.

Second, from the condition of the hearer. Often, these considerations require attention, study, freedom from passion and prejudice, strong powers of abstraction, lucidity in the logical process, etc. These traits are absent or dulled in many scholars, let alone the average inquirer. In many cases, even when the hearer is led to conclude that there is no opposition between the two statements, his grounds for such a judgement are weak, and these spurious grounds often expose him to false doctrines and can scandalize him if their weakness is exposed. In other cases, those who do not have these intellectual virtues are emboldened in their opposition to the Church when they cannot grasp the complexity of the explanation that is given.

The third mode of proceeding, in my judgement, is to be favored above all the rest. To “bypass” the first premise is to leave it in suspense on account of its irrelevance to the conclusion. Therefore, we are able to treat the argument in such a way as to abstract from its truth or falsity. The reason that this is an appropriate move is that the force of the syllogism is taken from both the major premise and the minor premise. If either is false, then the entire argument fails. We do not need to reject both premises in order to show the failure of the argument, since its failure is apparent from the destruction of either, abstracting from the truth or falsity of the other.

In this way, we are able to show that it is “not necessary.” The second premise of the argument is to be completely rejected. We can abstract from the truth or falsity of the first premise because the second premise is false.

Often, Catholic apologists believe that their role is to be able to resolve in practice each doubt with which the unbeliever approaches the Church. Yet this is completely impractical in many cases. There are some demons which come out only by prayer and fasting, the merit of which proceeds from faith. To expect certain objections to be resolved without the true faith, prayer, and submission to the pastors of the Church is to expect something that is morally impossible. Yet to show clearly that such objections are “not necessary” is well within the reach of many.

We can diagnose popesplaining as an acceptance of the burden of proof where it is neither necessary, nor profitable. This is the ideological adherence to the second mode of proceeding, despite the damage caused, at the expense of the third mode of proceeding.

A Clarification

The general outlines of the argument I have set out are clear from what I have already said, but it is important to make one note in the practical order. In practical matters, general principles often take account of what happens ordinarily and in the majority of cases, without seeking to lay out the particular conditions that may lead to exceptions. In this case it is no different.

While I have generally indicated my belief that the first and second options laid out above are poor options in the majority of cases, this does not mean that there are no circumstances in which it may be preferable to follow one of them. For example, there are certain cases of clear and obvious calumny against the Pope or the Church which we can easily refute even to a partial audience. In these cases, it is clearly preferable not even to discuss the question of principle, but simply to refute what should be obvious to the audience. In another case, one may understand that the audience he addresses is one that can reason through the case properly and come to understand the continuity that is present.

Conclusion

It is this last case that creates so much of the practical difficulty in the entire project of e-apologetic popesplaining. Surely it will be profitable for the well-disposed to hear these explanations. Yet these same explanations will be harmful to others who are not well disposed, and these are certainly the majority of hearers. To my mind, while I do not disavow each of the explanations I have given in this regard, I do believe that the endeavor was foolish. These disputes should ordinarily have stayed in books and journals rather than being directed towards an ordinary lay audience.