Edward Feser's Blog, page 51

Christmas every day

A Protestant friend once asked me what the point is of the Catholic doctrine of transubstantiation.  Why is it so important to think that Christ is really present under the accidents of bread and wine?  What is the cash value of this idea?  The answer I gave him is best understood in light of the meaning of Christmas.
Christmas is about Emmanuel, God with us.  In particular, it is about the second Person of the Trinity entering the material world by taking on flesh.  He did so by entering into Mary’s womb, and that is why Mary had to be without sin, whether original or actual.  She was, in the most intimate way possible, the tabernacle of God.  And the tabernacle of God must be spotless. 
This spotlessness found expression in her famous exclamation “Be it done to me according to thy word,” which conveys a humble submissiveness to the divine will that every Christian must emulate.  Mary didn’t protest that she had never consented to being the vessel of the Incarnation.  She didn’t ask for time to think about it.  She didn’t bargain with God for some special favor in return for what she was going to do.  She simply said yes.  
And that is also what Christmas is about.  It’s not just about Christ being with us, but also about our welcoming Him to be with us.  Mary shows us how to do that.  When you have a guest over, you act in such a way as to make him feel welcome – by not saying or doing things that will offend him, by serving him good food and drink, by tidying the house up beforehand, and so forth.  Living without sin is the way to tidy up, as it were, so as to welcome God-made-flesh to be with us.

Now, for the Catholic, in Holy Communion we are doing something analogous to what Mary did.  We are taking God Himself, this time in the guise of the Eucharist, into our bodies.  We are consenting to be the tabernacle of God.  And though, unlike Mary, we are not sinless, we must earnestly strive to be, as far as we can.  For not to do so is to risk desecrating God’s tabernacle.  That is why taking Holy Communion in a state of mortal sin is itself such a grave sin.  It is like having a king over for dinner, and then insulting him and serving him garbage – only infinitely worse, because in this case it is Christ the King who is being insulted.

Pope Francis likes to say that the Eucharist is not a prize for the perfect.  That is true.  But it must be a prod to us to try to become perfect – just as our Father in heaven is perfect – so as to be worthy to house the Eucharist.

That, as I told my friend, is why the doctrine of transubstantiation is so important.  Meditating on the meaning of the Eucharist can help make sin detestable and horrific to us, because God’s dwelling place ought to be spotless, and we know that every time we take Holy Communion God Himself dwells in us.  We can do so daily – God with us, not just at Christmas, but throughout the year.  And throughout the year, not merely at Christmas, we need to welcome Christ with the unreserved yes that His mother exemplified.

Related post:

Putting the Cross back into Christmas

Immateriality in Rome

Earlier this month I gave a talk on “The Immateriality of the Intellect” at a conference on neuroscience and the soul held at the Angelicumin Rome.  Video of the talk has now been posted at YouTube.

Links to other recent talks of mine can be found at my main website.

Byrne on why sex is not a social construct

Recently we looked atphilosopher Alex Byrne’s defense of the commonsense view that there are only two sexes.  In a new article at Arc Digital, Byrne defends another aspect of sexual common sense – the thesis that the distinction between male and female is natural, and not a mere social construct.  Let’s take a look.
As is typically done these days by writers on this topic, Byrne begins by distinguishing between sex and gender.  Sex has to do with the biological distinction between male and female, whereas gender has to do with the way the difference between male and female is shaped by culture.  In the article in question, Byrne does not challenge the claim that gender is socially constructed.  He is concerned only to rebut the more radical claim that sex is socially constructed.  We’ll return to the gender question later, though, because the claim that sex differences are natural is relevant to it. Byrne identifies three lines of argument for the claim that sex is socially constructed.  As he easily shows, they are all quite bad.
The first is what he calls the performative argument, which he attributes to Judith Butler.  The argument makes use of J. L. Austin’s notion of a “performative utterance,” i.e. an utterance the mere carrying out of which can make something the case.  For example, under the right circumstances, a judge’s utterance of “I sentence you to ten years in prison” can make it the case that an offender really has been sentenced to ten years in prison.  Now, there is an obvious sense in which such a sentence is socially constructed.  It is only as a matter of convention that a person acting as a judge can under certain circumstances make it the case that an offender receives such a sentence.
The performative argument claims that a doctor’s utterance of a statement like “It’s a boy” is like this.  The idea is that when the doctor says this, he essentially makes it the case that the baby he is talking about is a boy, just as the judge makes it the case by virtue of his utterance that an offender has received a sentence.
As Byrne points out, one problem with this argument is that performative utterances are not susceptible of error as long as the relevant conditions are met.  If the judge makes the utterance in question under the right circumstances, he necessarily really has sentenced the offender to ten years.  He may have made a mistake in the sense that he shouldn’t have issued that sentence, but the point is that he really did successfully issue it, whether or not he should have and even if he can later go on to revoke it.  By contrast, the doctor’s declaration is susceptible of error.  The doctor is reporting what he takes himself to have discovered, not trying to make something the case. 
To add to Byrne’s objection, we might note that to claim that the declaration “It’s a boy” makes it the case that a baby is a boy is as silly as claiming that a doctor’s declaring his diagnosis by saying “It’s cancer” makes it the case that a patient has cancer.  (Should such a patient sue the doctor for making him sick?  Could the doctor also make it the case that you don’t have cancer simply by saying “It’s not cancer”?)  Or you might as well say that a chicken sexer can increase the number of hens a farmer has simply by declaring that all the chicks he comes across today are female.
The second argument Byrne considers is one he calls the assignment argument.  The idea here is that in cases where a baby is born with certain deformities of the genitalia, the doctors will assign a certain sex to the baby, and considerations about what society considers paradigmatically male or female will in part determine how this is carried out.  Hence, the argument concludes, sex is really socially constructed. 
Byrne rightly points out that this argument fallaciously conflates being assigned to a certain class with actually belonging to that class.  That the doctors assign a certain sex to a baby simply does not by itself entail that the baby is really of that sex.  Again, for all the argument shows, a doctor could simply be making a mistake (even if in cases of the sort in question it is difficult to detect the mistake).
We should also note that it is simply a fallacy of hasty generalization to suppose that what is true of unusual cases like the ones the assignment argument cites is true of all cases.  That there are a few cases where doctors see a need to assign a sex to a baby doesn’t entail that the sex a baby belongs to is always a matter of being assigned a sex by the doctor. 
It is also a fallacy, here as in the context of other metaphysical questions, to suppose that the existence of borderline cases entails that there is no fact of the matter about whether something belongs to a certain class.  Hard cases make for bad law, and for bad metaphysics too.  The sound procedure is to start with the clear cases and evaluate the borderline cases in terms of those, rather than the other way around.  For all the assignment argument shows, the indeterminacy in question in the cases it cites is merely epistemological rather than metaphysical. 
The third argument Byrne discusses is one he calls the explanatory argument.  This argument rests on the premise that if a certain category functions primarily in the explanation of social facts rather than natural facts, then that category is probably socially constructed.  The argument then goes on to claim that the categories male and female function primarily to explain social facts, so that these categories can be judged to be socially constructed.
Byrne’s main objection here is to point out that there can be categories that feature primarily in explanations of social facts, yet are nevertheless clearly natural rather than socially constructed.  For example, it is plausible that we apply the category gold primarily in contexts that involve various social facts (such as facts about jewelry, or industrial uses of gold), but gold is still a natural kind rather than a socially constructed category.
There are also obvious natural rather than socially constructed facts that we explain by making use of the categories male and female.  For example, facts about pregnancy, childbirth, and the like are like this.  (Not to mention facts about non-human animals, as in the chicken sexer example.)  Byrne doesn’t pursue this point himself, noting that one defender of the explanatory argument claims that these reproductive facts can be accounted for in terms of physiological descriptions rather than in terms of categories like male and female. 
But this is not an impressive response.  For one thing, whether or not we could in theory try to come up with some way to explain the reproductive facts in question without making use of the categories maleand female, the fact that in reality we do routinely make use of these categories to explain those facts is enough to cast serious doubt on the explanatory argument.  For another thing, the defender of the explanatory argument needs to tell us exactly how we can specify the relevant physiological processes without implicitly smuggling in the concepts of male and female.  And it is by no means obvious that this can be done.  For example, how are we to characterize the reproductive processes without making reference to their function of getting smaller gametes together with larger ones – where, as we saw Byrne argue in the earlier post, to make reference to this difference in gamete size is precisely to make reference to the distinction between male and female?
After noting the deficiencies of these arguments against the thesis that the distinction between the sexes is natural rather than socially constructed, Byrne presents a positive argument for that thesis.  The argument is that there would have been sexes (in plants and animals) even if there were no human societies and thus nothing that is socially constructed.  Nor, as Byrne notes, is it a good response to this to suggest that the humansexes are socially constructed, because the category human isn’t any more plausibly socially constructed than the categories male and female are.
All of this is, or should be, pretty obvious.  So why would anyone deny it?  Byrne suggests that the activists who hold that the distinction between the sexes is socially constructed are so preoccupied with changing certain human social institutions that they have lost sight of the natural world.
That is no doubt true, but I think the activists in question also see something that, perhaps, Byrne does not – namely, that the distinction between sex and gender is not as sharp as he and many others seem to think.  Consider a parallel distinction – between food and cuisine.  There is a clear sense in which food is a natural category (plants and animals need food no less than we do, after all) whereas cuisine is socially constructed.  For the differences between French cuisine, Thai cuisine, and so on obviously reflect various human conventions and culturally contingent circumstances, and these can vary significantly.
All the same, there are obvious limits to this variability, and certain features that are true of all cuisines.  For example, all cuisines are going to provide at least some significant nutritional value.  The reason is that even though a cuisine is always more than just food, it is also always at least that.  Vary the use of spices, the kinds of meat favored, the manner of presentation, etc. all you like, you are always going to get something that provides nutrition.  Cuisines do this in a specifically humanway because they reflect the creativity that follows from our rationality, but they nevertheless always build on rather than replace the raw biological function served by food.
Now, sex and gender as traditionally understood are like this.  What expectations follow from being either “male” or “female” in the gender-related senses of these terms may vary somewhat from culture to culture, but they also traditionally have always been taken to reflect merely different, distinctively human ways of being male or female in the biologicalor sex-related senses of the terms.  And merely to note that gender is socially constructed does not suffice to show that that traditional view is mistaken.  You might as well argue that because cuisine is a socially constructed category, it follows that there could be cuisines that serve no nutritional end but have only wax, or Play-Doh, or the like as ingredients. 
Arguably, it is because some activists rightly perceive that gender is bound to be less fluid if sex differences are natural that they want to cast doubt on the latter thesis – however beyond reasonable doubt it is. 
Byrne quotes a remark from Butler to the effect that she seeks “to undermine any and all efforts to wield a discourse of truth to delegitimate minority gendered and sexual practices.”  The idea seems to be that if the objective facts entail that maleand female are less fluid categories than Butler and like-minded thinkers suppose, then so much the worse for the idea of objective facts.  Here, I think, we need to move well beyond Byrne’s diagnosis, and to read the signs of the times in light of Aquinas’s account of the “daughters of lust” – especially the one he labels blindness of mind.  (That is a topic I’ve addressed in a couple of earlier posts, hereand here.)

COMING SOON: Aristotle’s Revenge (Updated)

My new book Aristotle’s Revenge: The Metaphysical Foundations of Physical and Biological Science will be out early next year from Editiones Scholasticae.  More information forthcoming, but to whet your appetite, here are the cover copy and the detailed table of contents:
Actuality and potentiality, substantial form and prime matter, efficient causality and teleology are among the fundamental concepts of Aristotelian philosophy of nature.  Aristotle’s Revenge argues that these concepts are not only compatible with modern science, but are implicitly presupposed by modern science.  Among the many topics covered are the metaphysical presuppositions of scientific method; the status of scientific realism; the metaphysics of space and time; the metaphysics of quantum mechanics; reductionism in chemistry and biology; the metaphysics of evolution; and neuroscientific reductionism.  The book interacts heavily with the literature on these issues in contemporary analytic metaphysics and philosophy of science, so as to bring contemporary philosophy and science into dialogue with the Aristotelian tradition.TABLE OF CONTENTS 
0. Preface
1. Two philosophies of nature
1.1 What is the philosophy of nature?1.2 Aristotelian philosophy of nature in outline1.2.1 Actuality and potentiality1.2.2 Hylemorphism1.2.3 Limitation and change1.2.4 Efficient and final causality1.2.5 Living substances1.3 The mechanical world picture1.3.1 Key elements of the mechanical philosophy1.3.2 Main arguments for the mechanical philosophy
2. The scientist and scientific method
2.1 The arch of knowledge and its “empiriometric” core2.2 The intelligibility of nature2.3 Subjects of experience2.4 Being in the world2.4.1 Embodied cognition2.4.2 Embodied perception2.4.3 The scientist as social animal2.5 Intentionality2.6 Connections to the world2.7 Aristotelianism begins at home
3. Science and reality
3.1 Verificationism and falsificationism3.2 Epistemic structural realism3.2.1 Scientific realism3.2.2 Structure3.2.3 Epistemic not ontic3.3 How the laws of nature lie (or at least engage in mental reservation)3.4 The hollow universe 
4. Space, time, and motion
4.1 Space4.1.1 Does physics capture all there is to space?4.1.2 Abstract not absolute4.1.3 The continuum4.2 Motion4.2.1 How many kinds of motion are there?4.2.2 Absolute and relative motion4.2.3 Inertia4.2.3.1 Aristotle versus Newton?4.2.3.2 Why the conflict is illusory4.2.3.3 Is inertia real?4.2.3.4 Change and inertia4.3 Time4.3.1 What is time?4.3.2 The ineliminability of tense4.3.2.1 Time and language 4.3.2.2 Time and experience4.3.3 Aristotle versus Einstein?4.3.3.1 Making a metaphysics of method4.3.3.2 Relativity and the A-theory4.3.4 Against the spatialization of time4.3.5 The metaphysical impossibility of time travel4.3.6 In defense of presentism4.3.7 Physics and the funhouse mirror of nature
5. The philosophy of matter
5.1 Does physics capture all there is to matter?5.2 Aristotle and quantum mechanics5.2.1 Quantum hylemorphism5.2.2 Quantum mechanics and causality5.3 Chemistry and reductionism5.4 Primary and secondary qualities5.5 Is computation intrinsic to physics?5.5.1 The computational paradigm5.5.2 Searle’s critique5.5.3 Aristotle and computationalism
6. Animate nature
6.1 Against biological reductionism6.1.1 What is life?6.1.2 Genetic reductionism6.1.3 Function and teleology6.1.4 The hierarchy of life forms6.2 Aristotle and evolution6.2.1 Species essentialism6.2.2 Natural selection is teleological6.2.3 Transformism6.2.4 Problems with some versions of “Intelligent Design” theory6.3 Against neurobabble

UPDATE 12/9: Some pre-publication praise:

"With characteristic clarity and panache, Feser argues that the principles of Aristotelian and Thomistic philosophy, especially metaphysics and the philosophy of nature, are not challenged by developments in modern and contemporary science.  Indeed, Feser thinks that a proper understanding of the natural sciences discloses the enduring value of these very principles.  The book offers an excellent analysis of many of the key philosophical questions that lie at the heart of discourse about the implications of the physical and biological sciences. It is a very important resource for philosophers and scientists."

Dr. William E. Carroll, Aquinas Institute, Blackfriars, University of Oxford

COMING SOON: Aristotle’s Revenge

My new book Aristotle’s Revenge: The Metaphysical Foundations of Physical and Biological Science will be out early next year from Editiones Scholasticae.  More information forthcoming, but to whet your appetite, here are the cover copy and the detailed table of contents:
Actuality and potentiality, substantial form and prime matter, efficient causality and teleology are among the fundamental concepts of Aristotelian philosophy of nature.  Aristotle’s Revenge argues that these concepts are not only compatible with modern science, but are implicitly presupposed by modern science.  Among the many topics covered are the metaphysical presuppositions of scientific method; the status of scientific realism; the metaphysics of space and time; the metaphysics of quantum mechanics; reductionism in chemistry and biology; the metaphysics of evolution; and neuroscientific reductionism.  The book interacts heavily with the literature on these issues in contemporary analytic metaphysics and philosophy of science, so as to bring contemporary philosophy and science into dialogue with the Aristotelian tradition.TABLE OF CONTENTS 
0. Preface
1. Two philosophies of nature
1.1 What is the philosophy of nature?1.2 Aristotelian philosophy of nature in outline1.2.1 Actuality and potentiality1.2.2 Hylemorphism1.2.3 Limitation and change1.2.4 Efficient and final causality1.2.5 Living substances1.3 The mechanical world picture1.3.1 Key elements of the mechanical philosophy1.3.2 Main arguments for the mechanical philosophy
2. The scientist and scientific method
2.1 The arch of knowledge and its “empiriometric” core2.2 The intelligibility of nature2.3 Subjects of experience2.4 Being in the world2.4.1 Embodied cognition2.4.2 Embodied perception2.4.3 The scientist as social animal2.5 Intentionality2.6 Connections to the world2.7 Aristotelianism begins at home
3. Science and reality
3.1 Verificationism and falsificationism3.2 Epistemic structural realism3.2.1 Scientific realism3.2.2 Structure3.2.3 Epistemic not ontic3.3 How the laws of nature lie (or at least engage in mental reservation)3.4 The hollow universe 
4. Space, time, and motion
4.1 Space4.1.1 Does physics capture all there is to space?4.1.2 Abstract not absolute4.1.3 The continuum4.2 Motion4.2.1 How many kinds of motion are there?4.2.2 Absolute and relative motion4.2.3 Inertia4.2.3.1 Aristotle versus Newton?4.2.3.2 Why the conflict is illusory4.2.3.3 Is inertia real?4.2.3.4 Change and inertia4.3 Time4.3.1 What is time?4.3.2 The ineliminability of tense4.3.2.1 Time and language 4.3.2.2 Time and experience4.3.3 Aristotle versus Einstein?4.3.3.1 Making a metaphysics of method4.3.3.2 Relativity and the A-theory4.3.4 Against the spatialization of time4.3.5 The metaphysical impossibility of time travel4.3.6 In defense of presentism4.3.7 Physics and the funhouse mirror of nature
5. The philosophy of matter
5.1 Does physics capture all there is to matter?5.2 Aristotle and quantum mechanics5.2.1 Quantum hylemorphism5.2.2 Quantum mechanics and causality5.3 Chemistry and reductionism5.4 Primary and secondary qualities5.5 Is computation intrinsic to physics?5.5.1 The computational paradigm5.5.2 Searle’s critique5.5.3 Aristotle and computationalism
6. Animate nature
6.1 Against biological reductionism6.1.1 What is life?6.1.2 Genetic reductionism6.1.3 Function and teleology6.1.4 The hierarchy of life forms6.2 Aristotle and evolution6.2.1 Species essentialism6.2.2 Natural selection is teleological6.2.3 Transformism6.2.4 Problems with some versions of “Intelligent Design” theory6.3 Against neurobabble

Opening the thread

It’s the latest open thread.  This is the time to get your off-topic comments off your chest, and to give your threadjacking impulses free reign.  From iPhones to I, Claudius, from D-list celebs to Eugene Debs, from the A-theory to Blossom Dearie – discuss whatever you like, within reason.  Just keep it civil, classy, and troll-free.
I should perhaps clarify for some readers that these open threads are not “Ask Ed anything” posts.  Sorry, I just don’t have time to respond to most questions.  Think of them instead as “Ask each other anything” posts.Previous open threads are linked to here.

Byrne on why sex is binary

At Arc Digital, philosopher Alex Byrne defends the proposition that there are only two sexes, while suggesting that this has no implications one way or the other for transsexuality, gender dysphoria, and related issues.  Let’s consider both claims.
Byrne argues that it is a mistake to suppose that one’s sex is fundamentally a matter of what chromosomes one has or even what sorts of genitals one has.  Hence it is also a mistake to point to examples such as individuals who have male chromosomes but female external genitalia, or people who have only an X chromosome or XXY chromosomes, as evidence against the thesis that sex is binary.  In fact, Byrne suggests, chromosomes and genitalia are reflections of a deeper distinction, and the nature of that distinction is not captured by a mere description of the chromosomes and genitalia: To be chromosomally female is to have the sex chromosomes typical of (human) females; to be genitally female is to have the genitalia typical of (human) females, and so on.  But what is it to be, simply, female or male?
Byrne’s answer is that the sexes are defined in terms of the gametes they produce:
Specifically, females produce large gametes (reproductive cells), and males produce small ones. (Since there are no species with a third intermediate gamete size, there are only two sexes.) A glance at the huge variety of females and males across the animal and vegetable kingdoms will confirm that there is nothing else the sexes can be. For instance, the equation female=XX is confused for a fundamental reason having nothing to do with human chromosomal variation: females of numerous species either have different sex chromosomes (as in birds) or else no sex chromosomes at all (as in some reptiles). The XX/XY system is merely the mechanism by which placental mammals like humans typically become female and male; other animals and plants use different means to achieve the same end result.
End quote.  Byrne does not make use of Aristotelian-Scholastic metaphysical notions in order to make his point, but it is illuminating to do so.  Scholastics distinguish between the essence of a thing and its properties (or “proper accidents”).  A thing’s properties flow or follow from its essence, but are not to be identified with its essence.  For example, the essence of a human being is to be a rational animal, and a capacity for language is a property that flows or follows from this essence.  It is a kind of byproduct of being a rational animal insofar as it will always manifest in a mature and healthy specimen. 
Of course, some individual human beings are deficient in or lacking this capacity, but that is because the “flow” is, as it were, being blocked (by immaturity, brain damage, dementia, etc.).  It does not follow from such cases that the capacity for language is not a true property of human beings, but rather merely that an immature or damaged human being will not manifest all of his properties.  Similarly, the exercise even of rationality itself can be impaired or blocked by genetic defect, brain damage, aging, etc.  For the Scholastic, this does not mean that some human beings are not rational animals, but rather that they are rational animals whose actual exercise of their rationality is being frustrated.
Now, what Byrne is proposing can be interpreted as the thesis that the essence of being either male or female involves having the capacity to produce either smaller or larger gametes, respectively.  And having certain chromosomes and having genitalia of a certain type are properties which flow or follow from having one or the other essence.  In particular, having XY chromosomes, a penis, testicles, etc. are properties of human males, and having XX chromosomes, a vagina, ovaries, etc. are properties of human females.  As with other properties, the manifestation of these can be distorted or blocked due to immaturity, defect, damage, etc.
Again, Byrne doesn’t use such language, but he at least implicitly gestures at something like the essence/properties distinction insofar as he notes that:
There is a complication. Females and males might not produce gametes for a variety of reasons. A baby boy is male, despite the fact that sperm production is far in his future (or even if he dies in infancy), and a post-menopausal woman does not cease to be female simply because she no longer produces viable eggs.
In other words, immaturity prevents the manifestation of the relevant properties in a baby boy, whereas aged organs being worn out prevents the manifestation in a post-menopausal woman. 
This brings us to another Aristotelian notion that illuminates Byrne’s point, viz. that of intrinsic teleology.  As longtime readers of this blog know, intrinsic teleology is the kind that a thing manifests naturally, just by virtue of being the kind of thing it is.  A stock example would be an acorn’s tendency to grow into an oak, a tendency it has simply qua acorn.  This contrasts with extrinsic teleology, which is the kind a thing possesses only insofar as some end or purpose has been imposed on it from outside.  A stock example would be the time-telling function of a watch, which is not intrinsic to the bits of metal that make up a watch, but has to be imposed by the maker and users of the watch.  (Again, see Scholastic Metaphysics for detailed exposition and defense of this distinction.) 
To have an essence involves having certain intrinsic teleological properties.  For example, having the essence of a rational animal entails having faculties that are directed toward or aim at ends such as acquiring knowledge.
Now, Byrne speaks of “the mechanism by which… humans typically become female and male” and says that “other animals and plants use different means to achieve the same end result.”  That is teleological language, and since he is talking about natural kinds rather than artifacts, it is the language of intrinsic teleology, specifically. 
Similarly, when Byrne says that “a baby boy is male, despite the fact that sperm production is far in his future (or even if he dies in infancy),” it is natural to read this in teleological terms.  In particular, it is natural to read it as implying that a baby boy’s physiology is naturally directed toward the eventual production of sperm, and is so directed even if this end is never realized (because of the death of the baby).  Furthermore, the claim that “a post-menopausal woman does not cease to be female simply because she no longer produces viable eggs” can also be read in teleological terms.  The idea would be that a woman’s ovaries are directed toward the production of viable eggs, and remain so directed even if age leaves them no longer capable of realizing that end.  (Something similar is true of organs in general.  For example, the eye is for seeing, and it retains that function even if genetic defect, injury, or old age leave it incapable of fulfilling that function well or at all.)
This reading is especially natural in light of these follow-up remarks from Byrne:
In the light of these examples, it is more accurate (albeit not completely accurate) to say that females are the ones who have advanced some distance down the developmental pathway that results in the production of large gametes — ovarian differentiation has occurred, at least to some extent. Similarly, males are the ones who have advanced some distance down the developmental pathway that results in the production of small gametes.
End quote.  Talk of “developmental pathways” is naturally read as teleological.  The development in question is not just in any old direction, after all, but is a development toward the production of the gametes.  The “pathway” has a specific natural destination.
All the same, I presume that Byrne would not want to commit himself to anything like Aristotelian essentialism and teleology.  He may hold, as contemporary philosophers often do, that teleological-sounding talk is a mere façon de parler which can be replaced with a purely efficient-causal description.  But even the hint of an essentialist and teleological metaphysics accounts for why many with “progressive” views about sex are, as Byrne complains, reluctant to acknowledge that sex is binary.
After all, if anything has teleology, gametes do, and it has to do with getting together with the gametes of the opposite sex.  And if, as Byrne’s account suggests, chromosomes and genitalia play a secondary role relative to gametes, it isn’t hard to figure out their teleology too.  It has to do with facilitating the getting together of the gametes of the opposite sexes.  Hence the extremely well-known suitability of penises to get male gametes into the vicinity of female gametes, etc.
Before you know it, the evolutionary psychologists will show up and start pointing out that psychological drives (like sexual arousal, romantic attraction, and the like) are no less plausibly described in functional terms than genitalia are, and that the psychological functions in question have to do with facilitating the physiological processes by which male gametes get together with female gametes.  Add Aristotelian essentialism and teleology to the mix, and the function talk takes on normativesignificance.  Deviations from the physiological and psychological functions in question take on the status of malfunctions and deformations, no less bad for the organism than other malfunctions and deformations are.  All that’s left at that point is for the natural law theorists to come along and draw out the implications for sexual morality – though the progressive will by that time already have started hyperventilating, in a most unsexy way.
So, the skittishness of some progressives about acknowledging that sex is binary is understandable.  The messier sex can be made naturally to seem, the easier it will be to resist natural law conclusions.  But again, Byrne holds that to acknowledge that sex is binary should give the progressive nothing to worry about.  Is he right?
Well, if essentialism and intrinsic teleology are rejected, then the moral conclusions the progressive dislikes won’t follow.  (Though only because no moral conclusions about anything at all can survive the abandonment of essentialism and teleology, or so I would argue – but that is a topic for another time.)  And as I have said, I presume that Byrne would reject them, though this is not a topic he addresses.
The trouble is that it is very difficult at best to reduce or eliminate essentialist and teleological notions in the context of biology.  To be sure, the assertion that they can be reduced or eliminated is extremely common.  But actually pulling this job off is something no one has really done.  For example, attempts to reduce the notion of biological function (e.g. in causal terms or in terms of natural selection) are famously problematic.  Furthermore, as writers like Marjorie Grene, Andre Ariew, and J. Scott Turner have argued, natural selection in any event at most casts doubt on teleology where questions about adaptationare concerned, but leaves untouched the need for teleological descriptions of developmental processes.  It is often thought that resort to computational notions (such as characterizations of the genome as a kind of software or program) provides a handy replacement for teleology.  But as I argued in another recent paper, the computational descriptions in fact implicitly presuppose something like Aristotelian essentialism and teleology.
Again, Byrne himself describes the phenomena with which he is concerned in terms that suggest teleology.  Even if (as, again, I presume) he would hold that such talk can be cashed out in non-teleological terms, it is another thing actually to show exactly how this could be done.  In particular, one would need to capture everything we know about gametes, chromosomes, genitalia, etc. in a way that makes no implicit reference at all to teleological features.  For example, one would have to be able to give a complete description of male gametes without saying anything that implies that they have the end or telos of getting together with female gametes; one would have to be able to give a complete description of genitalia without saying anything that implies that they have the function of getting gametes together with those of the opposite sex; one would have to give a complete description of immature testicles without implying that they aim or are directed toward sperm production years down the line; and so on.
Since, again, it’s very hard to pull off such a consistently non-teleological re-description (where any aspect of biology is concerned, not just sex), it is no surprise that some progressives prefer to muddy the waters where the biological facts are concerned.  If sex is not binary, then the teleology is messier, and if the teleology is messier, then the dreaded conservative moral conclusions are easier to resist.
So, Byrne’s remarks about the biology are plausible, but his remarks about the implications or lack thereof for progressive views about sex, not so much. 
Related reading:
Love and sex roundup

The latest on Catholicism and capital punishment

At First Things, Joseph Bessette, Michael Pakaluk, and Fr. Brian Harrison comment on Steven Long’s recent article on capital punishment and the change to the catechism, and Long responds.
Parkland shooter suspect Nikolas Cruz has assaulted a prison guard, illustrating the continuing danger murderers pose even after incarceration.
In the October 2018 issue of the magazine New Directions , Fr. Richard Norman reviews By Man Shall His Blood Be Shed: A Catholic Defense of Capital Punishment .  Fr. Norman says that he is “prudentially opposed” to the death penalty, yet still judges that: [Bessette and Feser] authored a well-argued defence of the legitimacy of capital punishment within the catholic tradition… By Man Shall His Blood Be Shed is a relentlessly tightly-argued programme… Most importantly, the authors present a compelling theological case for accepting the legitimacy of capital punishment in principle, even if in practice its use is strictly curtailed.  They challenge the theological bases upon which much opposition to capital punishment rests and debunk many sociological assertions on the abolitionist side of the debate…
They argue very coherently as to why this power is properly reserved to the state according to the tradition of the Church… and they expose many inconsistencies and errors in the arguments brought against the death penalty… [T]his book [is] an important corrective within an often one-sided debate among churchmen.
End quote.  Naturally, Fr. Norman also raises some criticisms of the book.  For example, he says:
Bessette and Feser… do somewhat undermine their explanation of the deterrent effect of the death penalty in a chapter in which the capital crimes of seventeen offenders are described ‘in some detail’— the deterrent effect was evidently lost on these men.
With all due respect to Fr. Norman, this seems to me to be a pretty weak objection.  That a punishment does not deter everyone does not entail that it does not deter anyone.   The prospect of jail time, fines, bodily injury, accidental death, damage to one’s reputation, loss of employment, angering one’s spouse, etc. deter people all the time from doing things that are immoral, embarrassing, criminal, or otherwise risky.  Do they deter absolutely everyone, all of the time?  Of course not.  But it would be absurd to conclude from that that they have no significant deterrent effect.  It is no less absurd to question the deterrent effect of capital punishment, on the grounds that there are somepeople who are not deterred by it.
Another objection raised by Fr. Norman is as follows:
Another question relates to the determination of which authority is empowered to pass capital sentences: what is to prevent a father from applying the death penalty to his child, or the abbot of a monastery condemning a murderous religious?  Each of these has as many responsibilities towards their charges as does the state, but we would surely feel some reluctance at affording them the same juridical powers.
This is also a very weak objection.  One problem with it is that it would prove too much.  In particular, if it really cast any doubt on capital punishment, then it would also cast doubt on every other serious punishment.  For we could equally well ask: “What is to prevent a father or an abbot from imposing jail time or major fines?” and then on that basis argue against allowing the state ever to jail or to fine anyone.
Another problem, though, is that the objection neglects the answer that natural law theorists like Aquinas would give to Fr. Norman’s question.  As Joe Bessette and I discuss in our book, while Aquinas thinks that a murderer deserves a punishment of death as a matter of retributive justice, he also thinks that retributive justice is not by itself a sufficient reason for actually inflicting this deserved penalty, since Aquinas holds that retributive justice is primarily to be achieved in the afterlife.  There would therefore have to be some additional consideration favoring the actual infliction of death in this life – and there is such a consideration, in Aquinas’s view, namely the defense of the community.
Now, only those with authority within a kind of social order have the right to inflict punishments intended to protect that social order.  But those with authority to defend the community as a whole are public officials or governmental authorities.  Hence Aquinas argues thatit is only they, and not private citizens (including fathers and abbots), who may inflict capital punishment.
A further objection raised by Fr. Norman is the following:
The greatest difficulty, however, is with the authors’ fundamental idea of proportionality… [A]t least three problems go unaddressed: (i) if there is a direct proportionality between the crime of murder and a capital sentence, is justice lacking in sentences for murder which do not invoke the death penalty and, if not, could justice be also otherwise served where a capital sentence has been passed; (ii) how do proponents of capital punishment account for the many changes over time in the list of crimes which attract a capital penalty, if the issue at stake is one of proportionality, and (iii) how might one signal the moral difference between one capital crime and another if the sentence is the same, e.g. between the drug-dealer who fatally shoots a rival, the sadist who sexually assaults and murders a child, and the war criminal who orders the execution of hundreds of innocent civilians?
The first thing to say in response to these points is that as Joe Bessette and I note in the book, it is a misunderstanding of the natural law position to suppose that it entails that it is always possible in practice to inflict a proportional punishment, or that that we are always morally obligated to inflict it when this is possible.  For one thing, there may in some cases be practical reasons why inflicting a proportional punishment is not possible, or epistemological reasons which prevent a determination of exactly what a proportional punishment would be.  But that simply does not entail that there is not in fact a punishment that would be proportional.  For another thing, the natural law position holds only that there is a presumptionin favor of inflicting a proportional punishment, but allows that there are various reasons which might override this presumption, including moral reasons. 
Another problem with the objection is that Fr. Norman seems to be conflating questions about what punishments should be given with questions about what punishments arein fact given today.  It’s true, as he says, that there have been “many changes over time” in the list of offenses eligible for the death penalty, but by itself that has no implications one way or the other for the question of what punishments should be given.  In particular, the fact that there are in fact fewer offenses today for which death is inflicted does not entail that there morally must be fewer offenses for which it is inflicted.
That is not to imply, however, that Joe and I would necessarily want to expand the list.  Again, the presumption that an offender will get just what he deserves can be overridden for various practical and moral reasons, and in this life the imperative of doing what is best to secure the welfare of the community is in practice more important than the securing of strict retributive justice.  So it is perfectly possible for the list of crimes for which offenders should in practice be executed to be much shorter than the list of crimes for which offenders might in theory be executed.  Joe and I do not draw up any detailed list of either sort because it simply isn’t necessary for the specific purposes of our argument to do so.
Finally, Fr. Norman writes:
Another significant challenge to Bessette and Feser, which indeed impacts upon catholic tradition more extensively, is the question as to whether the New Testament ever anticipated Christians in positions of significant civic influence in what might be termed a ‘Christian state.’ When the New Testament recognizes the authority of the state to mete out justice, did its authors envisage Christians on the judgment seat?
The answer to this, I think, is that whether or not the authors of the New Testament writings envisaged this is not really important.  What isimportant is what the principles they taught would imply when applied to concrete circumstances in which Christians find themselves in positions of civic influence.  And that is a question that has been answered in detail by the Church’s great political thinkers (such as St. Thomas and St. Robert Bellarmine) and by the social doctrine of the Church. 

Thomas Pink on “official theology” (Updated)

At the National Catholic Register, Edward Pentin recently interviewed philosopher Thomas Pink on the subject of the failure of the Church’s leaders to teach and defend her doctrines.  (The interview is in two parts, hereand here.)  Pink is interesting and insightful as always, and in general I agree with the substance of his analysis.  However, it seems to me that the way he expresses his main point is potentially misleading and could needlessly open him up to unfair criticism.Pink draws a distinction between the “magisterial teaching” of the Church and what he calls the “official theology” of churchmen.  The problem with many current leaders in the Church, in Pink’s view, is that their official theology effectively smothers magisterial teaching without explicitly contradicting it.  Explaining what he means by “official theology,” he says:

They are statements that are official – made by officeholders in their public role – but they simply explain what the magisterial teaching means, or what the Church’s policies and practices are, without those statements of themselves imposing any obligation on our part to believe them.

End quote.  Now, it’s this expression “official theology” and Pink’s gloss on it here that I find problematic.  Again, I don’t disagree with the substance of what Pink is saying.  I think his main point is absolutely correct and important.  But the literal meaning of the expression “official theology” might lead an unsympathetic reader wrongly to accuse Pink of drawing a distinction without a difference, with a view to rationalizing a rejection of doctrines he doesn’t like.  

After all, what Pink calls “magisterial teaching” is also theological in content, and it is put forward officially insofar as it is to be found in authoritative documents such as the decrees of Church councils, papal encyclicals, instructions issued by the CDF, and so forth.  So isn’t magisterial teaching itself a kind of “official theology”?  Furthermore, doesn’t the Church tell us that it is the job of popes and bishops to “explain what the magisterial teaching means,” and that the faithful are obliged to give religious submission of intellect and will to this teaching (even if, as I have explained elsewhere, the Church allows that there can be circumstances in which such submission may legitimately be withheld)?  So, when churchmen acting “in their public role” rather than as private theologians “simply explain what the magisterial teaching means, or what the Church’s policies and practices are” isn’t there at least a presumption that Catholics do have an “obligation… to believe them”?

So, again, if you go just by the literal meaning of the expression “official theology” and the explanatory remark from Pink quoted above, it may seem that he hasn’t made it clear either how this is distinct from “magisterial teaching,” or why Catholics are not obligated to accept the former despite being obligated to accept the latter.

However, when you look at the specific examplesPink discusses, his meaning is clear.  For instance, he says:

Official theology often changes over time, and not in a constant direction.  The to-ing and fro-ing over unbaptised children [the doctrine on limbo] shows that the official theology of one time can contradict the official theology of another time.  And if past official theology of the Church can be mistaken, so too can modern official theology. 

End quote.  Another example Pink discusses at greater length is Jacques Maritain’s political theology of democratic pluralism, which has never been magisterial teaching but has nevertheless had an enormous influence on how contemporary Catholic theologians think about matters of Church and state.  An example Pink does not give but which is another instance of the sort of thing he has in mind is Hans Urs von Balthasar’s view that there is a realistic hope that all human beings will be saved. 

Other examples could be given, but these three – the rejection of the idea of limbo, the affirmation of the pluralistic non-confessional state as a positive good, and the “empty hell” hypothesis – provide a representative sample.  Here are three observations about them.  First, and again, none of these ideas is magisterial teaching, and no Catholic is obligated to agree with them.  

Second, these ideas are nevertheless widespread even among contemporary Catholic churchmen and theologians who have reputations for orthodoxy, and they reflect more general theological tendencies that are even more widespread.  For example, Maritain’s position reflects the influence of modern personalist philosophy, and personalism was also a major influence on the thinking of Pope St. John Paul II.  Von Balthasar was a major figure within the nouvelle théologie or resourcement movement in twentieth-century Catholic theology, and Pope Benedict XVI was another major figure in that movement.  No Catholic is obligated to endorse either personalism or the nouvelle théologie, but the fact that two popes widely admired among faithful Catholics were influenced by these movements has given them enormous prestige and influence within Catholicism. 

As I say, I think it would be misleading to call either these general movements or the specific theological ideas referred to parts of an “official theology.”  But they might plausibly be regarded as parts of a “dominant theology” or a “prevailing theology,” which I think would be better labels than the one Pink uses.

A third observation is that these three specific examples of prevailing theological ideas – again, the rejection of limbo, the affirmation of the non-confessional state as a positive good, and the “empty hell” hypothesis – all reflect a kind of optimism about the human condition that is novel, and indeed foreign to the Catholic tradition.  Magisterial Catholic teaching holds that without baptism we cannot be cleansed of the stain of original sin, and without sacramental confession we cannot be cleansed of the stain of mortal sin committed after baptism.  Thus, without baptism and confession we cannot be saved.  Hence the urgency of the Great Commission.  Now, it is true that there are qualifications to be made to these doctrines, having to do with the notions of baptism of desire, invincible ignorance, and the like.  But to think that this makes the need for baptism and confession less urgent is somewhat like thinking that a diagnosis of cancer needn’t prompt urgent action, since there are rare cases where cancers disappear without treatment; or like thinking that to prepare to have a large family and put the kids through college, it will suffice to buy a few lottery tickets.

Now, the rejection of limbo is hard to square with the urgency of infant baptism, and the “empty hell” hypothesis is hard to square with the urgency of conversion, of repentance, and of confession of mortal sin.  Celebration of the pluralistic non-confessional state as a positive good (as opposed to a necessary evil) is also in tension with this urgency.  If conversion is an urgent matter, then it can hardly fail to be an urgent matter to dispel theological error.  But if religious pluralism is a positively good thing, then it is hard to see how dispelling theological error can be an urgent matter, and thus hard to see how conversion can be an urgent matter either.  It is no surprise that latitudinarianism in theology and pluralism as a political ideal tend to go hand in hand.  (The connection goes back to the beginning of the liberal tradition, as I discuss in my book on John Locke.)

These novel theological opinions are often formulated in a way that attempts to make them consistent with the letter of Catholic magisterial teaching.  That is, for example, why “empty hell” theorists don’t deny either that hell exists or that some people might in theory end up there, but confine themselves to arguing that there is at least good reason to think that perhaps few if any in fact do.  I think these attempts at harmonization with past teaching are dubious at best.  (Pink has written much on the problems facing attempts to harmonize the affirmation of the non-confessional state as a positive good with traditional Catholic teaching, most recently at Public Discourse.  See the articles linked to above for discussion of limbo and the “empty hell” hypothesis.)  But even if these novel theories could be made consistent with the letter of traditional Catholic doctrine, they are manifestly in conflict with its spirit.  

Pink’s main point is that it is precisely because such theological opinions are at the very least in conflict with the spirit of traditional Catholic teaching that many churchmen beholden to these opinions do not proclaim and defend that teaching.  Why bother preaching the urgent need for conversion and baptism, or the urgency of repenting of and confessing mortal sins (such as the variety of sexual sins that are today not only widely indulged in but widely celebrated), if most people are going to be saved anyway?  Especially when doing so will only bring down upon you the opprobrium of the dominant secular liberal culture?  

In this way, the “official theology” (or better, the “prevailing theology” or “dominant theology”) makes magisterial teaching of no effect, without explicitly denying it.  And part of the remedy, as Pink goes on to argue, is for Catholic scholars to criticizethis prevailing theology – to show how it not only differs from actual magisterial teaching, but either explicitly or at least implicitly and in practice conflicts with it.  To carry out such criticism is in no way to be disloyal to the Church or her leaders.  On the contrary, it is precisely to defend the Church’s magisterial teaching and to assist her leaders in doing the same.  (It is also to exercise a right and duty that the Church herself recognizes.)

It seems to me that a helpful parallel here might be drawn with a distinction made in the philosophy of science.  In his recent book on quantum mechanics, Peter Lewis draws a distinction between (1) the phenomena a physical theory is meant to explain, (2) the theoryitself, and (3) alternative possible interpretationsof the theory.  In the case of quantum mechanics, the phenomena would include the interference phenomena of the two-slit experiment, and quantum entanglement phenomena.  The theory would include the mathematical representation of the physical systems central to quantum phenomena, and a law describing the changes of such systems over time.  The interpretations would include accounts of how the mathematical representation relates to concrete physical reality, such as the Copenhagen interpretation or the many worlds interpretation.

I would suggest that a parallel distinction can be drawn between (i) the data of divine revelation found in scripture and tradition, (ii) authoritative magisterial statements found in the decrees of councils, papal encyclicals, etc., and (iii) theological theories and systems that provide alternative interpretations of the sources of revelation and of magisterial statements.

Now, in the case of science, especially in popularized accounts, the distinction between (1) and (2) on the one hand and (3) on the other is often blurred.  For example, one sometimes hears sensationalistic claims to the effect that quantum mechanics has established the existence of parallel universes, or that it has vindicated the idealist view that physical reality depends on the observer.  In fact, quantum mechanics per se does not establish any such claims.  Rather, it is only certain interpretations of quantum mechanics – or even only certain extrapolations from certain interpretations of quantum mechanics – that make such claims, albeit they are interpretations and extrapolations that are sometimes endorsed by scientists.

Similarly, in Catholic contexts, the distinction between (i) and (ii) on the one hand and (iii) on the other is sometimes blurred.  For example, one sometimes hears claims to the effect that Catholic teaching no longer accepts the idea of limbo, or that it now requires that one affirm the non-confessional state as the ideal political arrangement.  In fact, Catholic magisterial teaching makes no such claims.  It is only certain theological theories that make such claims, albeit they are theories that are often endorsed by churchmen.  

What Pink is getting at, I would suggest, is precisely this point.  What he calls “official theology” is what I am referring to as category (iii) theological claims, or as examples of “prevailing theology” or “dominant theology.”   And he is right to say both that these ideas are not binding on the faithful, and that they often tend at least implicitly to undermine magisterial teaching and to discourage churchmen from proclaiming and defending it.

UPDATE 11/10: Pink's views are developed further in a recent three-part article at The Josias on the topic "Vatican II and Crisis in the Theology of Baptism": Part I, Part II, and Part III.

Thomas Pink on “official theology”

At the National Catholic Register, Edward Pentin recently interviewed philosopher Thomas Pink on the subject of the failure of the Church’s leaders to teach and defend her doctrines.  (The interview is in two parts, hereand here.)  Pink is interesting and insightful as always, and in general I agree with the substance of his analysis.  However, it seems to me that the way he expresses his main point is potentially misleading and could needlessly open him up to unfair criticism. Pink draws a distinction between the “magisterial teaching” of the Church and what he calls the “official theology” of churchmen.  The problem with many current leaders in the Church, in Pink’s view, is that their official theology effectively smothers magisterial teaching without explicitly contradicting it.  Explaining what he means by “official theology,” he says:
They are statements that are official – made by officeholders in their public role – but they simply explain what the magisterial teaching means, or what the Church’s policies and practices are, without those statements of themselves imposing any obligation on our part to believe them.
End quote.  Now, it’s this expression “official theology” and Pink’s gloss on it here that I find problematic.  Again, I don’t disagree with the substance of what Pink is saying.  I think his main point is absolutely correct and important.  But the literal meaning of the expression “official theology” might lead an unsympathetic reader wrongly to accuse Pink of drawing a distinction without a difference, with a view to rationalizing a rejection of doctrines he doesn’t like.  
After all, what Pink calls “magisterial teaching” is also theological in content, and it is put forward officially insofar as it is to be found in authoritative documents such as the decrees of Church councils, papal encyclicals, instructions issued by the CDF, and so forth.  So isn’t magisterial teaching itself a kind of “official theology”?  Furthermore, doesn’t the Church tell us that it is the job of popes and bishops to “explain what the magisterial teaching means,” and that the faithful are obliged to give religious submission of intellect and will to this teaching (even if, as I have explained elsewhere, the Church allows that there can be circumstances in which such submission may legitimately be withheld)?  So, when churchmen acting “in their public role” rather than as private theologians “simply explain what the magisterial teaching means, or what the Church’s policies and practices are” isn’t there at least a presumption that Catholics do have an “obligation… to believe them”?
So, again, if you go just by the literal meaning of the expression “official theology” and the explanatory remark from Pink quoted above, it may seem that he hasn’t made it clear either how this is distinct from “magisterial teaching,” or why Catholics are not obligated to accept the former despite being obligated to accept the latter.
However, when you look at the specific examplesPink discusses, his meaning is clear.  For instance, he says:
Official theology often changes over time, and not in a constant direction.  The to-ing and fro-ing over unbaptised children [the doctrine on limbo] shows that the official theology of one time can contradict the official theology of another time.  And if past official theology of the Church can be mistaken, so too can modern official theology. 
End quote.  Another example Pink discusses at greater length is Jacques Maritain’s political theology of democratic pluralism, which has never been magisterial teaching but has nevertheless had an enormous influence on how contemporary Catholic theologians think about matters of Church and state.  An example Pink does not give but which is another instance of the sort of thing he has in mind is Hans Urs von Balthasar’s view that there is a realistic hope that all human beings will be saved. 
Other examples could be given, but these three – the rejection of the idea of limbo, the affirmation of the pluralistic non-confessional state as a positive good, and the “empty hell” hypothesis – provide a representative sample.  Here are three observations about them.  First, and again, none of these ideas is magisterial teaching, and no Catholic is obligated to agree with them.  
Second, these ideas are nevertheless widespread even among contemporary Catholic churchmen and theologians who have reputations for orthodoxy, and they reflect more general theological tendencies that are even more widespread.  For example, Maritain’s position reflects the influence of modern personalist philosophy, and personalism was also a major influence on the thinking of Pope St. John Paul II.  Von Balthasar was a major figure within the nouvelle théologie or resourcement movement in twentieth-century Catholic theology, and Pope Benedict XVI was another major figure in that movement.  No Catholic is obligated to endorse either personalism or the nouvelle théologie, but the fact that two popes widely admired among faithful Catholics were influenced by these movements has given them enormous prestige and influence within Catholicism. 
As I say, I think it would be misleading to call either these general movements or the specific theological ideas referred to parts of an “official theology.”  But they might plausibly be regarded as parts of a “dominant theology” or a “prevailing theology,” which I think would be better labels than the one Pink uses.
A third observation is that these three specific examples of prevailing theological ideas – again, the rejection of limbo, the affirmation of the non-confessional state as a positive good, and the “empty hell” hypothesis – all reflect a kind of optimism about the human condition that is novel, and indeed foreign to the Catholic tradition.  Magisterial Catholic teaching holds that without baptism we cannot be cleansed of the stain of original sin, and without sacramental confession we cannot be cleansed of the stain of mortal sin committed after baptism.  Thus, without baptism and confession we cannot be saved.  Hence the urgency of the Great Commission.  Now, it is true that there are qualifications to be made to these doctrines, having to do with the notions of baptism of desire, invincible ignorance, and the like.  But to think that this makes the need for baptism and confession less urgent is somewhat like thinking that a diagnosis of cancer needn’t prompt urgent action, since there are rare cases where cancers disappear without treatment; or like thinking that to prepare to have a large family and put the kids through college, it will suffice to buy a few lottery tickets.
Now, the rejection of limbo is hard to square with the urgency of infant baptism, and the “empty hell” hypothesis is hard to square with the urgency of conversion, of repentance, and of confession of mortal sin.  Celebration of the pluralistic non-confessional state as a positive good (as opposed to a necessary evil) is also in tension with this urgency.  If conversion is an urgent matter, then it can hardly fail to be an urgent matter to dispel theological error.  But if religious pluralism is a positively good thing, then it is hard to see how dispelling theological error can be an urgent matter, and thus hard to see how conversion can be an urgent matter either.  It is no surprise that latitudinarianism in theology and pluralism as a political ideal tend to go hand in hand.  (The connection goes back to the beginning of the liberal tradition, as I discuss in my book on John Locke.)
These novel theological opinions are often formulated in a way that attempts to make them consistent with the letter of Catholic magisterial teaching.  That is, for example, why “empty hell” theorists don’t deny either that hell exists or that some people might in theory end up there, but confine themselves to arguing that there is at least good reason to think that perhaps few if any in fact do.  I think these attempts at harmonization with past teaching are dubious at best.  (Pink has written much on the problems facing attempts to harmonize the affirmation of the non-confessional state as a positive good with traditional Catholic teaching, most recently at Public Discourse.  See the articles linked to above for discussion of limbo and the “empty hell” hypothesis.)  But even if these novel theories could be made consistent with the letter of traditional Catholic doctrine, they are manifestly in conflict with its spirit.  
Pink’s main point is that it is precisely because such theological opinions are at the very least in conflict with the spirit of traditional Catholic teaching that many churchmen beholden to these opinions do not proclaim and defend that teaching.  Why bother preaching the urgent need for conversion and baptism, or the urgency of repenting of and confessing mortal sins (such as the variety of sexual sins that are today not only widely indulged in but widely celebrated), if most people are going to be saved anyway?  Especially when doing so will only bring down upon you the opprobrium of the dominant secular liberal culture?  
In this way, the “official theology” (or better, the “prevailing theology” or “dominant theology”) makes magisterial teaching of no effect, without explicitly denying it.  And part of the remedy, as Pink goes on to argue, is for Catholic scholars to criticizethis prevailing theology – to show how it not only differs from actual magisterial teaching, but either explicitly or at least implicitly and in practice conflicts with it.  To carry out such criticism is in no way to be disloyal to the Church or her leaders.  On the contrary, it is precisely to defend the Church’s magisterial teaching and to assist her leaders in doing the same.  (It is also to exercise a right and duty that the Church herself recognizes.)
It seems to me that a helpful parallel here might be drawn with a distinction made in the philosophy of science.  In his recent book on quantum mechanics, Peter Lewis draws a distinction between (1) the phenomena a physical theory is meant to explain, (2) the theoryitself, and (3) alternative possible interpretationsof the theory.  In the case of quantum mechanics, the phenomena would include the interference phenomena of the two-slit experiment, and quantum entanglement phenomena.  The theory would include the mathematical representation of the physical systems central to quantum phenomena, and a law describing the changes of such systems over time.  The interpretations would include accounts of how the mathematical representation relates to concrete physical reality, such as the Copenhagen interpretation or the many worlds interpretation.
I would suggest that a parallel distinction can be drawn between (i) the data of divine revelation found in scripture and tradition, (ii) authoritative magisterial statements found in the decrees of councils, papal encyclicals, etc., and (iii) theological theories and systems that provide alternative interpretations of the sources of revelation and of magisterial statements.
Now, in the case of science, especially in popularized accounts, the distinction between (1) and (2) on the one hand and (3) on the other is often blurred.  For example, one sometimes hears sensationalistic claims to the effect that quantum mechanics has established the existence of parallel universes, or that it has vindicated the idealist view that physical reality depends on the observer.  In fact, quantum mechanics per se does not establish any such claims.  Rather, it is only certain interpretations of quantum mechanics – or even only certain extrapolations from certain interpretations of quantum mechanics – that make such claims, albeit they are interpretations and extrapolations that are sometimes endorsed by scientists.
Similarly, in Catholic contexts, the distinction between (i) and (ii) on the one hand and (iii) on the other is sometimes blurred.  For example, one sometimes hears claims to the effect that Catholic teaching no longer accepts the idea of limbo, or that it now requires that one affirm the non-confessional state as the ideal political arrangement.  In fact, Catholic magisterial teaching makes no such claims.  It is only certain theological theories that make such claims, albeit they are theories that are often endorsed by churchmen.  
What Pink is getting at, I would suggest, is precisely this point.  What he calls “official theology” is what I am referring to as category (iii) theological claims, or as examples of “prevailing theology” or “dominant theology.”   And he is right to say both that these ideas are not binding on the faithful, and that they often tend at least implicitly to undermine magisterial teaching and to discourage churchmen from proclaiming and defending it.