How Catholic Social Teaching Can Help Today

A Remarkable Blend of Principles and Practical Wisdom for Public Life

With Pope Francis’s recent health scares and Vice President J.D. Vance’ notable speech at the Catholic Prayer Breakfast, I wanted to offer some brief thoughts about the role of Catholic Social Teaching (CST) in governing today.

Wait. Before you scroll away, I know many of you are not Catholic, don’t religiously follow papal encyclicals, and/or weren’t aware of Vance’s recent invocation of ordo amoris. So let me explain: CST has substantial secular value for anyone committed to ethical, prudent public service.

Principle and Practice

CST is a sturdy but continuously evolving body of thought that relates to social life. It speaks to the dignity and role of individuals, how we form various associations (e.g., families, organizations, towns), who possesses different types of responsibility and authority, and much more. All of this can inform our understanding of how best to lead in public life.

CST has had a significant influence on my thinking because it is shaped by two quite different but equally valuable lines of reasoning: 1) Immutable moral principles, and 2) the practical wisdom that comes from engaging in social life.

You would, I’m sure, expect the first given that CST is a product of a 2,000-year-old faith tradition. Indeed, CST articulates firm, permanent views on a range of moral issues, like the sanctity of life, the meaning of human flourishing, and the nature of virtuous and improper action.

The second line is less obvious and far less appreciated. It also distinguishes CST from most ideologies purporting to understand and improve society. CST’s practical wisdom comes from the Catholic Church’s millennia-long parish- and diocese-based arrangements and its fundamental commitment to service, particularly of the disadvantaged.

Top-Down and Bottom-Up

Lots of philosophical and ideological approaches to governing are based on ideas alone. They might’ve come from a thinker’s reasoning, study of data, or heartfelt views about how the world ought to be. Such -isms abound.

But -isms tend to be, or try to be, top-down and all-encompassing. They have a single insight—class struggle, markets, the divine right of kings—that is then applied to everything. An -ism is a hammer and everywhere is a nail.

But bottom-up approaches tend to be more modest. They take into account the complexity of a particular place and recognize that each other place has its own set of complexities. As such these approaches often take the form of rules of thumb. They are generally less dogmatic and place a premium on leaders’ judgment. A top-down -ism has an answer for just about everything; the -ism simply needs a leader to faithfully execute the plan. A bottom-up approach asks leaders to consider many factors, appreciate trade-offs, and make prudent choices. When operationalized well, a bottom-up approach is rarely clumsy and typically wise.

Though often scholarly, CST isn’t just the work of secluded Vatican-based academics (though there is some of that). Instead, it is informed by the experiences of parish priests and their lay colleagues who work with individuals, families, and communities every day. It is informed by bishops and their diocesan staffs who lead in geographies as different as we can imagine. It is informed by those leading, working in, and volunteering in Catholic schools, hospitals, clinics, shelters, food banks, and reliefs services.

In other words, CST is an ongoing dialogue between evergreen principles and the real conditions of human life. It comes from the top and bottom.

CST in the Governing Lexicon

There are a number of terms from CST that have made their way into the secular world of governing. “Social justice,” which is now often used by the political left to refer to progressive causes, means something different in CST—something more along the lines of properly assigning rights, duties, and privileges among individuals and groups. Another is “solidarity,” a way of understanding community and our responsibilities to others.

My favorite, however, is the ingenious concept “subsidiarity.” It is a framework for appreciating that different entities in society have different powers and obligations. Although sometimes understood as distributing authority, subsidiarity actually contends that authority and duty are inherent in individuals and communities and cannot be taken away. This then leads to a web of interdependencies among social entities that strengthens society and enables human flourishing.

These concepts and others demonstrate CST’s ground-level view of the world. It appreciates that our lives are made up of different types of associations serving different purposes. And it understands each of those association types as essential and complementary. But since the history, traditions, and conditions of one place will be different from those of another, CST seldom gives simple playbook-style answers to challenging governing questions. It does not presume to know the needs of a neighborhood outside of São Paulo, the goals of the actors involved in a dispute between a particular red state and its particular blue city, or the details of a lawsuit between a family and a school district. Instead, it offers a brilliant framework to help individuals and their leaders solve their own problems.

But at the same time, CST’s unapologetic embrace of timeless moral principles produces unusual clarity, independence, and backbone. Indeed, for ages CST has offered guidance on a wide array of pressing contemporary problems without being tied to a particular political party or philosophy. It helped societies understand the threats posed by rapid industrialization and totalitarianism. It has helped inform society’s thinking about novel scientific concepts like eugenics, cloning, IVF, and embryonic stem-cell research. It helped elucidate the evil of Communism. It helps explains why the loss of voluntary associations is so worrisome and why parental rights are so important. It can help us think about a universal basic income, immigration, just-war theory, school choice, and more.

The Need for Principle and Practice Today

There is one last thing about CST that is worth emphasizing. And it has nothing to do with the policy prescriptions it might recommend.

My view is that too many public leaders today have too few governing principles and too little practical wisdom in governing. They are often, it seems to me, motivated by less healthy forces—winning on a specific hot-button issue, earning momentary fame, demonstrating tribal loyalty, acting on anger at perceived foes.

CST asks us to think about basic principles about individuals and social life. Then it asks us to consider the day-to-day experience of families, communities, and nations across the globe.

Even if you disagree with the Church’s unshakeable tenets and/or the lessons it has gathered from millennia of on-the-ground service, CST at least roots us. It gives us concepts and experiences to consider. It encourages us to put aside polling data and viral moments and instead focus on principles and people. No, it won’t tell you whether a tax rate should be 23 percent or 24 percent or how to structure a new housing or transportation program. But it will ask you the right questions so you can reach a moral, experienced-informed answer that advances the common good.

Oh, I forgot to mention that “common good” is found in CST, as well.