Before beginning my response to Douglas Farrow’s essay, it is important to note at the outset that neither Farrow nor any of his respondents, including myself, are public health, epidemiological, or legal experts. Hence, whatever we say on this topic should be contextualized in light of the expertise each of us brings to this discussion. I mention this to call attention to the fact that the COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated a growing public distrust and disavowal of academic and scientific expertise. With appropriate epistemic humility, I will speak out of my own background as a bioethicist and student of the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas, from whom Farrow takes his inspiration in structuring his disputatio.
As a matter of style, and in the spirit of informed scholarly discourse, I will avoid the use of hyperbolic language as found in Farrow’s essay—e.g., “dehumanization,” “devil’s bargain,” “Dark Tower”—as well as specious comparisons—such as comparing proof of vaccination to a baptismal certificate—and appeals to unfounded conspiracy theories implicating Bill Gates, Gavi, and the WHO among others. Finally, I will not make any unsubstantiated empirical claims, as Farrow does, for example, when he refers to the COVID-19 vaccines as a form of “experimental gene therapy,” which is patently false.
Farrow actually concedes the foundational premises upon which I have previously built an argument, addressed to my Catholic brethren, that they have no basis for requesting a religious exemption to COVID-19 vaccination mandates: for instance, that governments have an essential role to play in ordering temporal affairs for the sake of the common good, that individual and collective liberties are not absolute and may be limited in extraordinary circumstances, and that one ought to obey the morally licit dictates of lawful authorities. Accepting these premises, Farrow nevertheless argues against the liceity of vaccination mandates based on the putatively “evil” nature of the vaccines themselves, individuals’ right to “bodily autonomy,” and “freedom of conscience.”
Regarding Farrow’s first claim, we must clarify the connection of the currently FDA approved or authorized COVID-19 vaccines to abortion. Like Farrow, I view voluntarily procured abortion as a grave evil and thus any connection one’s action has to voluntarily procured abortion must be carefully evaluated. Such an evaluation was carried out by the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the ultimate doctrinal oversight body within the Catholic hierarchy. Drawing upon an earlier analysis conducted by the Pontifical Academy for Life, an advisory body to the Vatican created by St. John Paul II, the CDF concluded unequivocally that “it is morally acceptable to receive Covid-19 vaccines that have used cell lines from aborted fetuses in their research and production process” (emphasis original). The basis for this conclusion is a distinction that has been drawn for centuries by Catholic moral theologians between various degrees of cooperation with another’s evil act. In the present case, both the PAL and CDF judged that electing to receive a COVID-19 vaccine is only remotely materially cooperative with at least one known voluntary abortion that occurred several decades ago from which an immortalized cell line was developed that has been utilized in the development of all sorts of pharmaceutical products and processed food additives.
Many Catholics and other Christians who are morally opposed to abortion invoke, as Farrow does, a right to “bodily autonomy,” while the same “my body, my choice” rhetoric is typically invoked to support a right to abortion. This meeting of strange bedfellows is even more ironic given the recently passed law in Texas outlawing abortion once a fetal heartbeat is detected. Some physicians who wish to provide abortions beyond the cut-off point, as well as the Church of Satan, have challenged this law on the basis of their conscientious or religious beliefs. Farrow bases his claim to bodily autonomy on the rights enumerated by the U.S. Declaration of Independence and later enshrined in the U.S. Constitution, and the fundamental right of individuals to act according to their conscience.
Farrow sacralizes the founding documents of the U.S. without contextualizing the sources from which they explicitly draw, which differ from the Thomistic natural law foundation that Farrow presumably accepts given his extensive quotations from the Angelic Doctor. When Thomas Jefferson, a deist who edited his own version of the New Testament to maintain Jesus’s moral lessons without any supernatural elements, wrote the initial draft of the Declaration of Independence, his claim that there are natural rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” paraphrased the Enlightenment philosopher John Locke’s specified rights to life, liberty, and property. Lest one think that Locke’s and Jefferson’s enumerated rights can be derived without qualification from Aquinas’s concept of natural law, note that Aquinas held only a limited right to private property—declaring that “in cases of need all things are common property”—and far from holding, as Farrow does, that the individual person is more ontologically basic than the state, Aquinas argued that each person is a member of the body politic “as part to whole” and justified capital punishment on the basis that the social body may cut-off “dangerous and infectious” members (Aquinas is referring to being “infectious” in terms of scandalizing others to sin). Furthermore, as opposed to Farrow’s implicit appeal to limited government, Aquinas approved Aristotle’s assertion that the essential role of a good legislator is to train citizens to be virtuous. I am not claiming that Aquinas is correct on all these points—I have deep reservations about his view of capital punishment, for example—but rather pointing out that American civil rights and Farrow’s appeal to them is foreign to the Thomistic foundation on which his argument, addressed to Catholics, stands.
This brings us to the question of the value and role of individual conscience in relation to public interests. Rightly wanting to avoid the extreme of “tyranny,” Farrow appeals to the fundamental right of individual persons to act in accord with their conscience, even if their conscience is misinformed. While Farrow is correct to this point, he neglects to note Aquinas’s requirement that individuals properly inform their conscience, as well as the appropriate role of the wider society and Church authorities in “fraternally correcting” errors in one’s conscience. Conscience was a preeminent consideration of the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council in their document on religious freedom, Dignitatis humanae. It is worth quoting at length what they say about the relation of individual conscience to the common good administered by public authorities:
“On his part, man perceives and acknowledges the imperatives of the divine law through the mediation of conscience. In all his activity a man is bound to follow his conscience in order that he may come to God, the end and purpose of life. It follows that he is not to be forced to act in a manner contrary to his conscience. Nor, on the other hand, is he to be restrained from acting in accordance with his conscience, especially in matters religious.” (n. 3)
This paragraph is oft-quoted by conscience absolutists who object to any curtailment of one’s expression of their conscience. Yet, just a few paragraphs later, the Vatican II Fathers balance one’s exercise of conscience, in particular religious freedom, with the demands of the common good and specify an appropriate role for government in striking this balance:
“The right to religious freedom is exercised in human society: hence its exercise is subject to certain regulatory norms. In the use of all freedoms the moral principle of personal and social responsibility is to be observed. In the exercise of their rights, individual men and social groups are bound by the moral law to have respect both for the rights of others and for their own duties toward others and for the common welfare of all. Men are to deal with their fellows in justice and civility. … Furthermore, society has the right to defend itself against possible abuses committed on the pretext of freedom of religion. It is the special duty of government to provide this protection.” (n. 7)
While obedience to civil authorities is not an absolute moral duty, neither is one’s freedom to act on their conscience, especially if one’s appeal to conscience or religious freedom is a mere pretext:
“Many pressures are brought to bear upon the men of our day, to the point where the danger arises lest they lose the possibility of acting on their own judgment. On the other hand, not a few can be found who seem inclined to use the name of freedom as the pretext for refusing to submit to authority and for making light of the duty of obedience. Wherefore this Vatican Council urges everyone, especially those who are charged with the task of educating others, to do their utmost to form men who, on the one hand, will respect the moral order and be obedient to lawful authority, and on the other hand, will be lovers of true freedom-men, in other words, who will come to decisions on their own judgment and in the light of truth, govern their activities with a sense of responsibility, and strive after what is true and right, willing always to join with others in cooperative effort. Religious freedom therefore ought to have this further purpose and aim, namely, that men may come to act with greater responsibility in fulfilling their duties in community life.” (n. 8)
Farrow has used the disputatio structure to make a seemingly compelling argument against not only the moral liceity of the COVID-19 vaccines, but also vaccination mandates (and other public health measures), all in support of a call for civil disobedience. Yet, Aquinas sets a high bar for justifying civil disobedience to avoid disrupting social harmony and destroying trust in authority, not to mention each individual’s duty to safeguard their own life and health. Unfortunately, for Farrow’s view, that bar has not been met based on the erroneous moral assessment of the COVID-19 vaccines, ill-informed appeals to empirical data, and unsubstantiated hyperbolic and conspiracy-theoretic comparisons Farrow makes to persuade readers to his perspective. Furthermore, Farrow offers no viable positive alternative, given that he opposes not only vaccination mandates but also lockdowns and quarantine measures. It seems that the only alternative is Sweden’s approach, which has been deemed a failure by public health experts and even Sweden’s own king and prime minister. So, absent herd immunity achieved through vaccination, we would be left with lockdowns and other measures that Aaron Kheriaty has rightly labeled “the other pandemic.” I, for one, consider vaccination to be far less invasive and dangerous than these other measures.
Jason T. Eberl, Ph.D. is Professor of Health Care Ethics and Philosophy, and Director of the Albert Gnaegi Center for Health Care Ethics at Saint Louis University.
Before beginning my response to Douglas Farrow’s essay, it is important to note at the outset that neither Farrow nor any of his respondents, including myself, are public health, epidemiological, or legal experts. Hence, whatever we say on this topic should be contextualized in light of the expertise each of us brings to this discussion. I mention this to call attention to the fact that the COVID-19 pandemic has exacerbated a growing public distrust and disavowal of academic and scientific expertise. With appropriate epistemic humility, I will speak out of my own background as a bioethicist and student of the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas, from whom Farrow takes his inspiration in structuring his disputatio.
As a matter of style, and in the spirit of informed scholarly discourse, I will avoid the use of hyperbolic language as found in Farrow’s essay—e.g., “dehumanization,” “devil’s bargain,” “Dark Tower”—as well as specious comparisons—such as comparing proof of vaccination to a baptismal certificate—and appeals to unfounded conspiracy theories implicating Bill Gates, Gavi, and the WHO among others. Finally, I will not make any unsubstantiated empirical claims, as Farrow does, for example, when he refers to the COVID-19 vaccines as a form of “experimental gene therapy,” which is patently false.
Farrow actually concedes the foundational premises upon which I have previously built an argument, addressed to my Catholic brethren, that they have no basis for requesting a religious exemption to COVID-19 vaccination mandates: for instance, that governments have an essential role to play in ordering temporal affairs for the sake of the common good, that individual and collective liberties are not absolute and may be limited in extraordinary circumstances, and that one ought to obey the morally licit dictates of lawful authorities. Accepting these premises, Farrow nevertheless argues against the liceity of vaccination mandates based on the putatively “evil” nature of the vaccines themselves, individuals’ right to “bodily autonomy,” and “freedom of conscience.”
Regarding Farrow’s first claim, we must clarify the connection of the currently FDA approved or authorized COVID-19 vaccines to abortion. Like Farrow, I view voluntarily procured abortion as a grave evil and thus any connection one’s action has to voluntarily procured abortion must be carefully evaluated. Such an evaluation was carried out by the Vatican’s Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the ultimate doctrinal oversight body within the Catholic hierarchy. Drawing upon an earlier analysis conducted by the Pontifical Academy for Life, an advisory body to the Vatican created by St. John Paul II, the CDF concluded unequivocally that “it is morally acceptable to receive Covid-19 vaccines that have used cell lines from aborted fetuses in their research and production process” (emphasis original). The basis for this conclusion is a distinction that has been drawn for centuries by Catholic moral theologians between various degrees of cooperation with another’s evil act. In the present case, both the PAL and CDF judged that electing to receive a COVID-19 vaccine is only remotely materially cooperative with at least one known voluntary abortion that occurred several decades ago from which an immortalized cell line was developed that has been utilized in the development of all sorts of pharmaceutical products and processed food additives.
Many Catholics and other Christians who are morally opposed to abortion invoke, as Farrow does, a right to “bodily autonomy,” while the same “my body, my choice” rhetoric is typically invoked to support a right to abortion. This meeting of strange bedfellows is even more ironic given the recently passed law in Texas outlawing abortion once a fetal heartbeat is detected. Some physicians who wish to provide abortions beyond the cut-off point, as well as the Church of Satan, have challenged this law on the basis of their conscientious or religious beliefs. Farrow bases his claim to bodily autonomy on the rights enumerated by the U.S. Declaration of Independence and later enshrined in the U.S. Constitution, and the fundamental right of individuals to act according to their conscience.
Farrow sacralizes the founding documents of the U.S. without contextualizing the sources from which they explicitly draw, which differ from the Thomistic natural law foundation that Farrow presumably accepts given his extensive quotations from the Angelic Doctor. When Thomas Jefferson, a deist who edited his own version of the New Testament to maintain Jesus’s moral lessons without any supernatural elements, wrote the initial draft of the Declaration of Independence, his claim that there are natural rights to “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” paraphrased the Enlightenment philosopher John Locke’s specified rights to life, liberty, and property. Lest one think that Locke’s and Jefferson’s enumerated rights can be derived without qualification from Aquinas’s concept of natural law, note that Aquinas held only a limited right to private property—declaring that “in cases of need all things are common property”—and far from holding, as Farrow does, that the individual person is more ontologically basic than the state, Aquinas argued that each person is a member of the body politic “as part to whole” and justified capital punishment on the basis that the social body may cut-off “dangerous and infectious” members (Aquinas is referring to being “infectious” in terms of scandalizing others to sin). Furthermore, as opposed to Farrow’s implicit appeal to limited government, Aquinas approved Aristotle’s assertion that the essential role of a good legislator is to train citizens to be virtuous. I am not claiming that Aquinas is correct on all these points—I have deep reservations about his view of capital punishment, for example—but rather pointing out that American civil rights and Farrow’s appeal to them is foreign to the Thomistic foundation on which his argument, addressed to Catholics, stands.
This brings us to the question of the value and role of individual conscience in relation to public interests. Rightly wanting to avoid the extreme of “tyranny,” Farrow appeals to the fundamental right of individual persons to act in accord with their conscience, even if their conscience is misinformed. While Farrow is correct to this point, he neglects to note Aquinas’s requirement that individuals properly inform their conscience, as well as the appropriate role of the wider society and Church authorities in “fraternally correcting” errors in one’s conscience. Conscience was a preeminent consideration of the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council in their document on religious freedom, Dignitatis humanae. It is worth quoting at length what they say about the relation of individual conscience to the common good administered by public authorities:
“On his part, man perceives and acknowledges the imperatives of the divine law through the mediation of conscience. In all his activity a man is bound to follow his conscience in order that he may come to God, the end and purpose of life. It follows that he is not to be forced to act in a manner contrary to his conscience. Nor, on the other hand, is he to be restrained from acting in accordance with his conscience, especially in matters religious.” (n. 3)
This paragraph is oft-quoted by conscience absolutists who object to any curtailment of one’s expression of their conscience. Yet, just a few paragraphs later, the Vatican II Fathers balance one’s exercise of conscience, in particular religious freedom, with the demands of the common good and specify an appropriate role for government in striking this balance:
“The right to religious freedom is exercised in human society: hence its exercise is subject to certain regulatory norms. In the use of all freedoms the moral principle of personal and social responsibility is to be observed. In the exercise of their rights, individual men and social groups are bound by the moral law to have respect both for the rights of others and for their own duties toward others and for the common welfare of all. Men are to deal with their fellows in justice and civility. … Furthermore, society has the right to defend itself against possible abuses committed on the pretext of freedom of religion. It is the special duty of government to provide this protection.” (n. 7)
While obedience to civil authorities is not an absolute moral duty, neither is one’s freedom to act on their conscience, especially if one’s appeal to conscience or religious freedom is a mere pretext:
“Many pressures are brought to bear upon the men of our day, to the point where the danger arises lest they lose the possibility of acting on their own judgment. On the other hand, not a few can be found who seem inclined to use the name of freedom as the pretext for refusing to submit to authority and for making light of the duty of obedience. Wherefore this Vatican Council urges everyone, especially those who are charged with the task of educating others, to do their utmost to form men who, on the one hand, will respect the moral order and be obedient to lawful authority, and on the other hand, will be lovers of true freedom-men, in other words, who will come to decisions on their own judgment and in the light of truth, govern their activities with a sense of responsibility, and strive after what is true and right, willing always to join with others in cooperative effort. Religious freedom therefore ought to have this further purpose and aim, namely, that men may come to act with greater responsibility in fulfilling their duties in community life.” (n. 8)
Farrow has used the disputatio structure to make a seemingly compelling argument against not only the moral liceity of the COVID-19 vaccines, but also vaccination mandates (and other public health measures), all in support of a call for civil disobedience. Yet, Aquinas sets a high bar for justifying civil disobedience to avoid disrupting social harmony and destroying trust in authority, not to mention each individual’s duty to safeguard their own life and health. Unfortunately, for Farrow’s view, that bar has not been met based on the erroneous moral assessment of the COVID-19 vaccines, ill-informed appeals to empirical data, and unsubstantiated hyperbolic and conspiracy-theoretic comparisons Farrow makes to persuade readers to his perspective. Furthermore, Farrow offers no viable positive alternative, given that he opposes not only vaccination mandates but also lockdowns and quarantine measures. It seems that the only alternative is Sweden’s approach, which has been deemed a failure by public health experts and even Sweden’s own king and prime minister. So, absent herd immunity achieved through vaccination, we would be left with lockdowns and other measures that Aaron Kheriaty has rightly labeled “the other pandemic.” I, for one, consider vaccination to be far less invasive and dangerous than these other measures.
Jason T. Eberl, Ph.D. is Professor of Health Care Ethics and Philosophy, and Director of the Albert Gnaegi Center for Health Care Ethics at Saint Louis University.
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