Author: Kleiner

Aristotle and Aquinas could never have foreseen the global economic markets of today, nor the necessity for capital to run that economic engine. But as people begin to talk of an ‘end of the credit era’, it is an occasion to turn back to Aristotle’s thoughts on money lending.

Like many in the classical and medieval traditions, Aristotle and Aquinas thought money lending at interest was immoral. If you don’t want to slug through their actual arguments (immediately below), you can skim down to below the quotations where I give a brief summary of their view.

Aristotle writes,

‘There are two sorts of wealth-getting, as I have said; one is a part of household management, the other is retail trade: the former necessary and honorable, while that which consists in exchange is justly censured; for it is unnatural, and a mode by which men gain from one another. The most hated sort, and with the greatest reason, is usury, which makes a gain out of money itself, and not from the natural object of it. For money was intended to be used in exchange, but not to increase at interest. And this term interest, which means the birth of money from money, is applied to the breeding of money because the offspring resembles the parent. Wherefore of all modes of getting wealth this is the most unnatural.’ Politics X

Here is Aquinas’ argument:

‘ I answer that, To take usury for money lent is unjust in itself, because this is to sell what does not exist, and this evidently leads to inequality which is contrary to justice. Onorder to make this evident, we must observe that there are certain things the use of which consists in their consumption: thus we consume wine when we use it for drink and we consume wheat when we use it for food. Wherefore in such like things the use of the thing must not be reckoned apart from the thing itself, and whoever is granted the use of the thing, is granted the thing itself and for this reason, to lend things of this kin is to transfer the ownership. Accordingly if a man wanted to sell wine separately from the use of the wine, he would be selling the same thing twice, or he would be selling what does not exist, wherefore he would evidently commit a sin of injustice. On like manner he commits an injustice who lends wine or wheat, and asks for double payment, viz. one, the return of the thing in equal measure, the other, the price of the use, which is called usury.

On the other hand, there are things the use of which does not consist in their consumption: thus to use a house is to dwell in it, not to destroy it. Wherefore in such things both may be granted: for instance, one man may hand over to another the ownership of his house while reserving to himself the use of it for a time, or vice versa, he may grant the use of the house, while retaining the ownership. For this reason a man may lawfully make a charge for the use of his house, and, besides this, revendicate the house from the person to whom he has granted its use, as happens in renting and letting a house.

Now money, according to the Philosopher [Aristotle] (Ethic. v, 5; Polit. i, 3) was invented chiefly for the purpose of exchange: and consequently the proper and principal use of money is its consumption or alienation whereby it is sunk in exchange. Hence it is by its very nature unlawful to take payment for the use of money lent, which payment is known as usury: and just as a man is bound to restore other ill-gotten goods, so is he bound to restore the money which he has taken in usury.’ (Summa, II-II, 78.1)

My summary:

What Aristotle and Aquinas after him are doing is distinguishing between what is natural and what is unnatural (good and bad), and here they make a distinction between natural and unnatural commerce. Here is the basic argument:

A distinction is drawn between two types of goods, fungible and non-fungible (those are actually Aquinas’ terms for them). Fungible goods are goods that are destroyed (consumed) when they are used. Food (wine) is the best example here. Food is destroyed when it is used, it cannot be returned and does not naturally make more of itself when used (from bread one does not get more bread, in fact, when you ‘use’ bread you have less and less of it).

Fields and flocks are examples of non-fungible goods (in the passage above Aquinas mentions houses). They are not destroyed when they are used. Quite to the contrary, they are naturally reproductive (they naturally produce surplus value in their use, as in the case of a flock producing wool or more sheep, a field yeilding a crop year in and year out). For this reason they can be rented.

Aristotle thinks that money is a fungible good because it does not naturally create more value. It is unnatural (immoral) to expect money to create surplus value out of itself. For that reason, money is good solely as a means of exchange. With money (as with wine and wheat), there is no distinction between the thing itself and its use, and so one ought not add an additional usury fee. In other words, lending money at interest is wrong.

I looked around for a very brief history of usury, and found that our very own Prof Norman Jones (history) has a short article giving a quick historical overview.

Thoughts?

Since I keep hearing some of my students fret about the threat of ‘theocracy’ in this country, I thought maybe we should do a little political philosophy on the blog. 

I am no defender of George W. Bush (or the neo-cons), but a ‘tyrant’ or a ‘theocrat’ he is not.  What silliness, to be perfectly honest.  This is as ridiculous as those who suggest that Obama is a Muslim.  When I press these students to name a single policy as an example of our alleged move toward ‘theocracy’, they always come up silent.  But that hardly seems to stop them from repeating, diligently and with all the appropriate defiant anger, such silly claims.

So let’s revisit what the First Amendment says about religion:

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

There are two clauses that speak of religion, the Establishment Clause and the Free Exercise Clause.  Richard John Neuhaus, in a recent article on this that I will here parrot, writes that recent jurisprudence has severely deformed the real (original) meaning here.  He writes,

‘The deepest deformation is the subordinating of free exercise to no-establishment. Once we forget that no-establishment is a means and instrument in support of free exercise, it is a short step to talking about the supposed conflict or tension between the two provisions. And from there it is a short step to the claim, as it has been claimed in numerous court decisions, that the two parts of the religion clause are “pitted against one another” and must somehow be “balanced.” ’

As he points out, the consequence of this inverted understanding is that ‘whenever the government advances, religion must retreat’.  But since government is constantly advancing into more and more areas of our social and personal lives, it is suggested that believing Americans must surrender their faith in the ‘public square’.

How absurd.  When it is written that ‘Congress shall make no law’, it is clearly limiting government – not religion.  The purpose of the First Amendment religion clauses IS NOT to limit religion or even religion’s place in the public square.  The purpose of the clauses is to limit government from interfering with free (and open and public) religious expression.  Religious persons and churches are left perfectly free to try to influence the government, all that is restricted is the government’s ability to interfere with the lives of churches and individual believers.  Let me restate that, since this appears to be news to many secularists:  the Religion Clauses are not meant to protect government from religion, rather they are meant to protect religion from ‘the overweening ambitions of the modern state.’  (Note that this free expression, then, is protected and could be appealed to even in those areas of life where the government may find itself involved – such as education.)

This is, of course, an ‘originalist’ interpretation (rather like the interpretation Scalia encouraged in his recent talk here).  But it is also the most obvious – note that the entire First Amendment has the aim of limiting government’s power to interfere with free expression (of various sorts).   

Perhaps I am treating the philosophy blog too loosely in this post, but I don’t think so.  If Strauss is right, philosophy is by nature political (it concerns the discernment of the good, and the vexed relationship between high-minded principle and dirty human affairs).  Besides, this post is not religious per se (since the Catholic Church teaches that her moral principles are knowable by natural reason).

Here is an article from the NY Times today on the role of Catholic voters in the coming election.  

You can link here for a 2007 statement from the US Conference of Bishops on voting, though this provides a more manageable summary (it does lack the nuance of the original though).  For students in my Social Ethics class and for others, it is a nice outline of moral principles Catholics see as binding and a look at how these principles relate to various political and social issues. Even if you are not Catholic or if you reject the moral principles that are outlined, it still provides a nice model of what thoughtful and principled application of moral principles looks like (and that is far too rare).

The ‘guide’ does not attempt to tell Catholics exactly how to vote, and it is not a partisan document (one will find that Catholics do not fit neatly on one side of the conservative/liberal divide). Political decisions are prudential judgments, and each person must make prudential judgments for themselves. (A prudential judgment is a judgment where a general principle is applied to a particular situation).

Part of me hesitates to even post this, because I don’t care too much about this debate.  Mormons want to call themselves Christian, and I don’t really care.  There is no doubt that Jesus Christ plays a central role in their religion, so it makes sense for Mormons to self-identify as ‘Christian’.  Of course, the whole debate hinges on the definition of Christianity, and there are other competing definitions of Christianity.  On those more robust definitions (if we accept them), then Mormons are not Christians, though I think it is probably better to just say they are not ‘creedal Christians’.  But, as I say, I don’t really care too much about quibbling over who has claim to the name ‘Christian’.

That said, I have very little doubt (and most of the LDS folk I know agree) that Mormonism is very different – essentially and fundamentally different – than every other brand of Christianity we usually think of.  Quite simply, Mormon Christians and Creedal Christians disagree about the nature of God (Trinity, Jesus) and the nature of man (whether man is of the same species as God, whether man can become a god).  Which is to say they disagree about the most important things.  

My only complaint is when some Mormons diminish those differences, acting as if Mormonism was just ‘another denomination’ (as if the differences between a Mormon and a Lutheran are not any more extreme than the differences between a Lutheran and a Methodist).  To my mind this is, not to put too fine a point on it, just plain dishonest.  (Let me stress, not all Mormons intentionally diminish these differences, but just that some do).

Anyway, First Things has an article on the matter here.  Bruce Porter (a member of the Quorum of the Seventy) writes on one side, Gerald McDermott on the other.  I think it is pretty fair on both sides (though I am sure my Mormon friends will disagree with some of McDermott’s arguments).  You can also listen to interviews with the two authors here.