In Human Dignity and Liberal Politics: Catholic Possibilities for the Common Good, Patrick Riordan argues for “liberal politics serving human dignity from the Catholic perspective on common goods” (223), with an orientation towards exploring “what is common, even when there is difference and division” (1). To do this, Riordan employs three analytical lenses: Aristotelian philosophy (primarily through Aristotle and his contemporary interlocutors, such as Alasdair MacIntyre and Zoli Filotas), liberalism (primarily through political philosophers such as John Rawls and John Stuart Mill), and Catholic social thought (primarily through documents emerging from the Second Vatican Council—such as Gaudium et spes—or from the papacy of Francis, such as Laudato si’). The structure of the text tracks these analytical lenses clearly, though it also provides discussions that diverge from the beaten path (though not in an unwelcome manner).
The general framework is that for each analytical lens there is a chapter that deals with the topic directly, followed by two chapters that continue to engage with the lens at hand but go in different directions. For instance, though Riordan devotes the entirety of the second chapter to Aristotle, the third and fourth chapters—on political Augustinianism and Aquinas—weave Aristotelian themes into their own focuses. Not only does Riordan engage directly with Aristotelianism as an analytic lens, but he also deploys that analytical lens to examine topics germane to the greater discussion. In the third chapter, he explores the possibilities and pitfalls of political Augustinianism as received through Augustine of Hippo’s own City of God and the work of contemporary scholars, such as Oliver O’Donovan and Brian Trainor. In chapter 4 he shifts to Aquinas’ contribution to contemporary discussions of human dignity and the common good.
Similarly, the fifth chapter addresses liberalism directly (“Is Liberalism the Enemy?”) but is then followed by two chapters that transcend a simple examination of the topic. Indeed, chapters 6 and 7, which concern conflict, utopia, and apocalypticism, add dimensions to a discussion of liberalism that are unlikely to be found elsewhere. This structure continues in the last three chapters of the text, in which Catholic social teaching becomes more of a focus. Of course, the common thread that ties all of these chapters together is a concern with the common good. What is it exactly? Is there one common good, or are there many? Who decides what the common good is or should be? What role does the Catholic church play in the discussion, if it plays a role at all?
Throughout the text, Riordan carefully demarcates and defines the relevant terminology, adding a great deal of clarity to discussions that often hinge on exactly how certain terms are being used. Riordan’s depth of knowledge and expertise in the subject matter is evident throughout the book, yet he remains mindful of the fact that not all readers share his level of familiarity with political philosophy. His explanations of key concepts are both accessible for newcomers and valuable as refreshers for those with prior knowledge of the field. Another element of Riordan’s style that adds to the value of the text is that though he makes clear his own stance on a given issue, he does not let this affect the rigor of his analysis. While a good deal of the text does concentrate on the idea of “liberalism” as a political philosophy, Riordan steers clear of debates between “liberals” and “conservatives.” Even when he does discuss figures who are known to be partisans—such as Patrick Deneen in chapter 5—he engages those figures on the basis of their engagement with or aversion towards political liberalism, rather than their personal liberalism or conservatism.
This careful avoidance of arguing for one side or another is also characteristic of Riordan’s engagement with Catholicism. While Riordan is a Jesuit priest and makes no attempt to disguise his involvement with the Catholic Church, he is willing to turn a critical lens to his own faith tradition and makes it clear that he is attempting to engage with models that work in both secular and religious contexts. He writes that though he is informed by the Catholic intellectual tradition, “the substance of my contribution is intended to be both intelligible and acceptable to reasonable fellow citizens of other faiths or of no faith” (3). For those teaching in fields such as political science, philosophy, or theology, it should also be noted that while the chapters do fit together well, they could just as easily be excerpted for readings in a course that engages with any of the aforementioned analytical lenses, or with the theme of “the common good” as a broader concept.
Overall, the book is a delight to read. Riordan not only offers a text rich in insight and intellectual depth, but he also skillfully balances scholarly rigor with a writing style that is equally engaging for newcomers and seasoned participants in these discussions. By making complex ideas accessible without compromising on academic integrity, Human Dignity and Liberal Politics provides a great service to the field.
Benjamin Cail is a doctoral student in philosophy at Institut Catholique de Paris.
Benjamin Cail
Date Of Review:
October 25, 2024
