St. Thomas and Cooperation with Evil

This article will examine a foundational principle for the classical Thomistic account of cooperation with evil in the realm of moral theology: namely, understanding and appreciating the integral nature of the external object of the moral act (the “object”). Focus on the nature or essence of our actions is central to engaging the question of cooperation. In order to properly assess the nature and species of cooperation with evil, it is first necessary to establish what the act that is being done, which potentially amounts to cooperation, actually is. Working through the speculative density of this question allows the Thomistic account of cooperation to supersede the more casuistic account which began with Thomas Sanchez and St. Alphonsus Liguori, CSsR in the early modern period.1 The latter account is deeply hampered by its focus on an artificial distinction between material and formal cooperation, a distinction not found in Thomas and one predicated upon how “close” the intention of the cooperator gets to the intention of the malefactor.2 Further, a key principle of the Alphonsian cooperation account is the notion that some human acts are morally indifferent.3 This principle is directly contrary to Thomas’s assertion that while the essential nature of an object may be per se indifferent, the object always ceases to be morally indifferent or neutral when chosen by a human agent (ST I-II.18.9).4

The Integral (Hylomorphic) Nature of Moral Action

Understanding why the Thomistic account of cooperation with evil is superior to the Alphonsian casuistic account entails a contemplative focus on unified normative teleology, on the grammar and architecture of the object of the moral act. Human nature has been created by God to desire knowledge of the true and fruition of the good, as found first in ens creatum and then, leading up from it, as found in the final Good that is God Himself. The true and the good may be found within a normative order of ends, a teleological order. This order is impressed on human nature, and in fact on all created being, purely passively; this is the eternal law, according to St. Thomas. When it comes to human beings, we have been given the dignity to have a rational participation of this eternal law, whereby we come to recognize the truth of the normative order of ends, and thereby its goodness and desirability as providing ends for our moral (that is, good or bad) action, as foci of our intending, towards human flourishing. This rational participation is the natural law. The natural law provides precepts by which we are directed to the good as true, and as naturally desirable for us (because under the sway of recta ratio and its comprehension of what conduces to our happiness). When we “tap in” to these precepts, we tap into the teleology of the normative order of ends within us. This tapping in is, to use an image from Steven Long, like the turning on of an electric circuit: every step within the execution of our act, of our motion (consisting of various intermediate chosen objects) towards a given end within the normative orders of ends (which we have understanding of speculatively), is, from beginning to end, teleological, that is, ordered to an end that we (rightly or wrongly) perceive to be good for us, because in accordance with the truth about our created nature and that to which God has called that nature, both qua nature and qua graced.

To miss the fact that the precepts of the natural law in us are capable of yielding speculative knowledge, knowledge regarding a normative, teleological order of ends, is to enter a realm of casuistic calculation, a realm where moral action consists in a stilted, stultified and largely immobile moral calculus, one that is unyielding to any notion that we might truly feel the goodness of the normative order of ends — of the teleological precepts — and so desire rightly. We either become connaturalized to the good of the order of ends, which we know speculatively and which we can come to love in our affections, or we have to resort to some kind of Kantian (and casuistic) moral calculus.5 Never to be forgotten is the motion of grace in enabling us “promptly, joyfully and easily” to embrace the normative order of ends and its precepts as good-for-us. The infused virtues and the Gifts of the Holy Spirit seep into our teleological natural constitution, cooperating with acquired virtue and making it possible for us to withstand those situations which might otherwise become occasions of cooperation with evil.6

Also important to remember here is that even when we are considering how to bring about an end — which we have perceived as good for us and are thus intending — and, while doing so, we are deliberating about the prudent choice of singular objects (acts) to reach that end, our deliberation remains primarily speculative. Even though we are deliberating about concrete acts, the normative order of ends gives us speculative precepts, precepts which we can contemplate when deciding on the choice of a good object to reach a good end. The fact that the precepts are primarily speculative ensures that we do not get lost in the moral calculus of the singular; in fact, that we begin with the speculative ensures that we have real contactus with singulars, because the normative order of ends infallibly puts us in touch with the real, whereas a kind of casuistic moral calculus can so easily mystify the concrete singular which is in front of us. We can easily miss the forest for the trees if we think that the action of prudence in a given concrete situation is primarily practical; when we begin with the speculative, we ensure contactus with the real.

All of the preceding has been to say that human action is teleological, through and through. It does not cease to be teleological because we encounter a difficult situation in which we are tempted to cooperate with evil. We remain in charge of our free acts, insofar as we have the dignity of secondary causality, following upon the divine premotion. Object, end and circumstance come under the auspices of our secondary causality, a causality that is free while remaining with the ken of the divine providence, and thus of the divine auxilium. This is a great cause for hope, that we might truly live a Christian life: an earthly life in which eternal life has already inchoately begun, here and now, so that we can feel, think, will, and act in a morally good and meritorious way.

The preceding analysis should help us to see the centrality of understanding the object of the moral act as possessing an integral nature, with its own per se effects. What it means to say this is simply that a given object tends of itself toward a given end. Of itself, the object I choose has a nature, and because it has a nature, it has an end intrinsic to it; so, my choosing of it in itself tends towards the end that is intrinsic to the object, not necessarily to my final intended end, if that be different. The latter is the case of a per accidens ordering of object to end. If I intend to satisfy my hunger, but I choose to consume a jar of nickels, the end towards which my chosen object tends — the act of eating nickels — is not satisfying my hunger, but rather destroying my digestive tract and sending me to the ER. The act of eating nickels tends of itself towards sickness and injury, not towards satisfying hunger. Conversely, if I intend to get a Ph.D. in Catholic theology, and I choose to apply for a doctoral program at Ave Maria University, I choose an object which is per se ordered towards my intended end. Acts have natures. They retain those natures even if I misapply (badly choose) an act to an end towards which it is not of itself ordained, mistakenly thinking that it does. A per se effect is an effect that flows directly from the nature of the chosen act/object. Having a speculatively-based practical knowledge of concrete singulars helps me to answer the question, “What exactly am I doing when I do this action, and what of itself does this action tend towards?”

The misconstrual of the problem of cooperation with evil during the casuistic period within Catholic moral theology is rooted in a kind of despair about the ability of the human being to virtuously withstand — that is, to virtuously feel — the psychological and social pressures of a situation in which the temptation is to cooperate. This despair is uncalled for. Once Christic grace comes, the natural love of man for God and the natural ability to do and to will the natural good in its integrity are restored, and God simultaneously restores the supernatural love of charity and the ability to do supererogatory works of caritative virtue (gratia elevans). The motio towards the supernatural last end of the beatific vision is not schizophrenic, to use the memorable phrase of Steven Long: one must be ordered both naturally and supernaturally to God as last End, in order to do both the natural and the supernatural good, and to love Him accordingly. The solution to the aforementioned despair is not to remain in this misplaced despair, but rather to throw oneself upon the divine mercy, to abandon oneself to divine providence. Only in doing so do we avail ourselves of the action of the Holy Spirit, Who wishes for grace to seep all the way down, even into those contending passions according to which we might otherwise flee from the arduous evil of withstanding temptation to cooperate with evil.

A Case: Teleology or Casuistry?

It is hard to think of a greater irony in this area than to posit a hypothetical case which can demonstrate the ultimate inferiority of the casuist school’s account of cooperation with evil.7 As such, we will proceed with positing a hypothetical case involving cooperation with evil. We will do so in order to demonstrate that the unified normative teleology of the Thomistic school much more strongly accounts for the complexities and moral demands involved in situations of potential cooperation with evil, than does the moral calculus involved in the casuistic account associated (in some places wrongly, as noted above) with Alphonsus Liguori. Fundamentally, the the key thread in the case is the following: without attention to the nature and teleology of the object to which our act goes out, we will more or less end up resorting to the question of what we can get away with licitly, and thus we will abandon the virtue framework which underpins the entirety of St. Thomas Aquinas’s moral system.8 That Thomas does not have a separate treatise on cooperation with evil is no excuse to abandon, consciously or not, the overall virtue-thrust of his thought in the area of resisting moral evil and overcoming vice. We cannot just put a blanket over evil, Luther-style. We must actually feel how right it is to overcome it, and so actually and connaturally overcome it. This is a key datum which underpins the fine work of Ryan Connors, Kevin Flannery, and Steve Long, three of the most important theologians in the Thomistic tradition today working in the area of cooperation with evil.

Case: Dr. Smith Contra Mundum

Here is our case. Newly-minted Catholic theologian Dr. Smith has just come on the job market after successfully defending his dissertation. He sees a job advertisement for a teaching position at his alma mater: it is a tenure-track position; it is located back home, where he has been hoping to find a job; taking on the role would work for his budding family, for his wife and their young children. He notices and is somewhat concerned by the fact that the job title is not for Theology, but for Religious Studies: surprising, given that this is a Catholic institution, at least in name. Nevertheless, at the prompting of his former teachers, he applies, becomes a top candidate, and is offered the position. During the interview process, Dr. Smith becomes acutely aware of how much the institution has changed since his time there: what had previously been but a liberal subtext or current both on campus and in the Theology Department has now become a full-blown, campus-wide, institutional and procedural apostasy from the Truth. The campus is decorated with advertisements for alphabet soup month; internships at Planned Parenthood are offered to the nursing students; most horrifying of all, the Theology office itself features a wall-high pride flag, draped over the door of one of the professors’ offices. Furthermore, it is made clear to Dr. Smith that he will be expected to teach World Religions, and to do so in a non-partisan way: that is, without trying to convince the students of the superiority of Christianity. He will furthermore be expected to participate in institutional governing bodies which approve and plan campus-wide initiatives in support of immoral causes. He is told that all University syllabi typically include a statement of non-discrimination with respect to “gender pronouns.” Nowhere is he asked to seek a mandatum from the local Bishop, who, perplexingly, sits in the cathedral right down the road from the university, yet seems blissfully unaware of the chaos going on at this “Catholic” institution right under his nose. Now, surrounded by his wife and children, and with no other job offers pending, Dr. Smith sits at his desk in his study, the contract for the position sitting on that desk before him, with a blank space where his signature is warranted. He has already had several difficult conversations with former Professors who have since retired: what he is getting himself into is not what he may have originally imagined. His wife is pregnant; they need a steady source of income. Dr. Smith has prepared for years for university teaching: this is the only option available to him at this time, at least, the only university option. What is Dr. Smith to do in this situation?

Again, the most important questions to ask do not concern how close Dr. Smith can get to the evils being perpetrated by the institution’s administration. There can be no clear answer to such a question, and it leaves ample room for subjective rationalization, and thus for delusion (a power for which fallen human beings are uniquely well suited). There is also no reality to the idea that if he can safely chart a path forward where he takes the job but plans to avoid the cooperating aspects, then Dr. Smith’s taking of the job is morally neutral. It can only be either morally good or bad. The better questions to ask are: what exactly would Dr. Smith be doing by signing on the dotted line? What would the nature of his action be? Could there be, is there, an intelligibility for his taking this job, apart from the very real cooperation with evil which will be demanded of him as a faculty member? Even if Dr. Smith is prepared to refuse cooperation, is it fair to his wife and family, and even to his potential students, to take a job he knows will be taken away from him in short order, on account of his refusal to cooperate with institutional policy? It should be immediately clear that the nature of the act, in this case, would be to knowingly and willingly take a job which is foreknown to demand cooperation with grave moral evil — namely that of the promotion of homosexuality, gender ideology, and offenses against preborn life. Of itself, the taking of this job, with this job advertisement, per se leads to cooperation with evil. The taking of this job has no intelligibility apart from cooperation, for the job will be taken away from him if he refuses to cooperate: it will cease to be his job. As long as it is his job, it means cooperation for him.

Furthermore, the idea that Dr. Smith could reasonably take the job while being committed to refusing all demands for cooperation is unreasonable and imprudent on several levels: the job would be immediately taken away from him from the moment he is asked to perform his basic job responsibilities (for the demands for cooperation are going to be a daily occurrence: this is clear from the job advert); putting his family in such a situation would be financially precarious; even if somehow he did manage to avoid making his status as a “conscientious objector” known immediately, he would thereby give both his family and his students the unreasonable expectation that he might continue in such an intermediate state indefinitely. Furthermore, contra possible, even if he was able to so avoid immediately making himself known, he would over time earn the scorn and ire of his colleagues and superiors, which would spell bad news for him and for his family in terms of any future job prospects. All of this leads to another hypothetical: what if Dr. Smith resolves, after much authentic prayer and real moral wrestling with this dilemma, that he is being called to “be salt,” that is, to be a voice for the Truth of the Gospel in a place now devoid of it, for as long as he is able to, until his platform is forcibly taken away from him? What if the Holy Spirit seems to be actually moving him to take this job, in order to counter the lies from the new institutional culture? Could he in any sense reasonably take the job, and put his family at such risk? This is not an altogether alien question from that faced by Blessed Franz Jägerstätter, who did not refuse the military draft, knowing what the Nazis were capable of, and who still refused to take the oath to Hitler, thus leaving his family bereft of their husband and father on account of his inevitable imprisonment and execution — although we cannot pretend that the stakes are the same in both cases. Basically, this second question reduces to whether someone can try to be heroically fortitudinous, knowing that their effort, barring divine intervention, will be extremely short-lived, and that the consequences will be (temporally) devastating for those under one’s care. Can someone like Dr. Smith, like Blessed Franz — given his unique state in life, as a lay theologian with a family — be a Dr. Smith contra mundum?

I answer that Dr. Smith would need serious spiritual direction, and would need to be in intimate conversation with his wife, before even conceiving of the possibility of being “salt” in this way at his alma mater. All of the aforementioned precariousness still holds, even if he believes himself called to a kind of spiritual martyrdom. Of course, he can certainly attempt to take the job and actually refuse those things which he has been formed well enough to recognize as true cooperation. In such a case, the nature of his act could be morally good, particularly if he feels himself called to take up such a precarious state. It remains true that it is highly unlikely that he could sustain being in such a state for any reasonable length of time, which is why he has a great burden of demonstrating to his wife that he could forestall the seemingly inevitable for a good long while, and that he has concrete alternative plans in place for when he is inevitably forced out. If, with prudent spiritual direction and the complete and doubtless agreement of his wife, he believes he wants to take on this role, Smith’s act will be the morally good act of taking a job towards the teaching of Catholic truth in a college classroom; his end will be the theological formation of confused Catholics; the circumstances will be that he will be surrounded by opposition within and without the classroom. The nature of the act, with the given counsel and circumspection taken, would be morally good, with the potential to become heroically virtuous.

What would have to specify the nature of this heroic act, as good, would be the nature of object of his taking of the job, and his ability to so accept it under the aspect of it being a teaching role, not under the aspect of it being a formal collaboration with the morally unacceptable policies of the University. Vital to have in view is this objection: that by signing on the dotted line, Smith is potentially lying to employers — making them think that he has agreed to propagate their policies in his various service responsibilities and in mandated syllabus policies for the classroom, when he has no intention of doing so. Smith would have to carefully ascertain precisely what the contract asks of him, that is, the nature of the act which is being proposed. If the contract lists expectations of his collaboration in the University’s ethos, but requires that he merely fulfill the basic obligations of teaching, research, and “service” generically construed, then conceivably Smith could sign on the dotted line without misrepresenting himself. If, however, the contract explicitly states that his job responsibilities require him to advance the University’s morally unacceptable policies (such as affirming “pronouns” in his classroom, working on plans for alphabet soup month, advising students about internship opportunities with companies beholden to morally unacceptable practices) as a part of his basic work duties, then he could not sign the contract without verbally stipulating that his intention is just to teach and serve within his competency as a Catholic theologian, and not to cooperate in other responsibilities that go against his Catholic morals. To do otherwise would be to lie. Of course, this would almost inevitably lead to a retraction of the offer. So it remains highly unlikely that Smith could take this job either without cooperating with evil, or without putting his family in a needlessly dangerous situation. It is not impossible, but it remains very unlikely.

Conclusion

The previous case has endeavored to flesh out the truth that cooperation with evil is best understood within the context of the nature of the moral act, not within the imagined realm of how “close” a potential cooperator can get to the wickedness of the malefactor without thereby being morally contaminated. The normative order of ends, according to which our will passively participates the eternal law, concerns the concrete res of the world as we live in it and discover it. When my intellect commands my will to go out to an intended end, that end is recognized as truly good for me, by nature: that is, conducive to my observance of the eternal law, and so to the human flourishing of myself and of those under my care. To attempt to stagger this analysis by hypothetical conjectures of the invisible boundary between unfortunate similarity of action and real cooperation in wickedness is to deny that all human action goes out to the real.9 The Alphonsian account of cooperation with evil, while morally unobjectionable per se when understood correctly (such that formal sharing of intention is not what itself constitutes “formal” cooperation), is nevertheless less teleologically normative and real than the traditional Thomistic analysis of the moral act, with its unified normative teleology and its double understanding of the formality of the moral act as both holistic and partitive: in such an understanding, how the act is formal includes the concrete or “physical” nature of what is being done. The radical separation of form from matter on the Alphonsian reading turns out to be unacceptable,10 if we wish to adhere to the standards of traditional Thomistic teaching on morality, standards which underpin the called-for renewal of Catholic moral theology in Veritatis Splendor.

  1. Fr. Ryan Connors, OP, Rethinking Cooperation With Evil: A Virtue-Based Approach (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2023), 5, 7, 43. ↩
  2. Although to be sure, as Steven Long, drawing on Fr. Kevin Flannery, points out, in his conference paper “On the ‘Isomorphism’ of Evil Action and Co-Action,” 18–19, it is a fundamental misreading of Alphonsus to suggest that he thinks that formal cooperation with evil is (depending on how you look at it) either limited to or extended to explicit sharing in the intention of the malefactor one is in cooperation with. Neither is true: one can share in the will of the malefactor, going out to an evil object, without sharing in his intention, and this would still be identifiable as formal cooperation. This accounts for the trifold distinction, more authentically reflective of Alphonsus’s thought on the matter (though still hampered by its artificiality, compared to the mainline Thomistic account), between most formal, formal, and material cooperation. For the ineluctably close association, within the tradition, of the material/formal distinction with Alphonsus, although it did not per se first appear with his work, see Fr. Kevin L. Flannery, SJ, Cooperation With Evil: Thomistic Tools of Analysis (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2019), 6, 24–26. Flannery is also to be credited with my use of the language of “malefactor,” see page 20 of his work. ↩
  3. Flannery, Cooperation With Evil, 35. ↩
  4. Flannery, Cooperation With Evil, 38. See also Connors, Rethinking Cooperation, 44–45. ↩
  5. Thus, in reference to the classic “Servant and the Ladder” proposition. which was condemned by Innocent XI (the secretary holding the ladder for his promiscuous master, or taking dictation for a love letter to his master’s mistress), the casuistically-minded moral agent does not have faith that the speculative precepts might be embraced with affection and boldness. He yields to fear, not understanding that he might otherwise become connaturalized to affection for the good. The agent does not understand that the goodness of the teleological order — by the motion of grace, by the infused virtues cooperating with the acquired, and by the Gifts of the Holy Spirit — has the ability to seep all the way down into his affections. If the casuistic agent did, he might have been heroic, analogous to the Carmelite nuns (the Martyrs of Compiègne, just canonized by the late Pope Francis in December 2024), who went to their death on the scaffold of Robespierre, smiling and chanting the Veni, Creator Spiritus. Such heroic examples of the embracing of the precepts given by the teleological order, because of the action of grace and its cementing us in the good, could be multiplied — one thinks of Sts. Cecilia, Philomena, Tarcisius — and in each case they would provide an icon of the penetration of the virtues and Gifts of the Holy Spirit into Christian moral living, indeed, into its very teleological grammar and into the natural constitution of the human person. ↩
  6. Connors, Rethinking Cooperation, 39. ↩
  7. That being said, casuistry as a moral theological school is not to be confused with the more general meaning of the term as implying moral cases, something that any and every moral theology must involve when it comes to extending speculative principles into operation. ↩
  8. Please note, no part of this analysis is intended as a personal judgment or indictment of St. Alphonsus or other moral-theological casuists in the tradition. Referring to how the ramifications of the Fall have led to a kind of despair about moral acting is just a reality: the casuist system is particularly vulnerable to such despair, but no theology or theologian is exempt from these ramifications as such. In no way am I attempting here to contradict St. Alphonsus’s glorious aureole as the Doctor and Prince of Moral Theology. I only here attempt to show that he and the casuist tradition after him had some oversights when it came to cooperation, and that Thomas helps us to correct these. ↩
  9. Fr. Ryan Connors refers to this conception of cooperation as “mythical”: “The myth at work in much of the analysis of cases of cooperation with evil revolves around a misunderstanding of the importance of proximity to evil acts . . . this analysis remains entirely in the head, as it were. It attends solely to the cooperator’s intention, asking if he wishes such and such a bad act to take place. This is not the method of moral analysis of St. Thomas. Instead, Aquinas asks what the so-called cooperator is doing . . . the person in question is not merely a cooperator. His analysis revolves around what sort of act this person — the would-be cooperator — is doing.” Rethinking Cooperation, 24–25. Emphasis added. In other words, on the Alphonsian reading, the moral agent is so caught up with how close he can get to the bad act of the malefactor — so much focused on his own intending — that he ceases to take into account the teleological and formal primacy of the nature of the act he is contemplating. No amount of calculus about my proximity to the college president, for instance, and his promulgation of morally unacceptable policies can excuse me from choosing to take a job that I know formally requires me to do and promote wicked things, and taking it while knowing that I will be required to do these things. ↩
  10. Flannery: “According to Alphonsus, the action of a formal cooperator runs up to the bad will of a malefactor; the action of a material cooperator runs up to his bad action.” Cooperation With Evil, 31. Such a separation between form (and an elision of form’s double entendre, being both partitive as pertaining to the ratio of appetibility of the object, and holistic as pertaining to the object qua whole in the larger analysis of act as such; see Long, Teleological Grammar, 78–79) and matter, between willing and physical action (action chosen by the intellect, without the key account of prudence; Connors, Rethinking Cooperation, 7), too radically separates the human person for this account to be viable in an authentically teleological (that is, non-consequentialist) account of the science of the human act. ↩
Anthony Hernandez About Anthony Hernandez

Anthony L. Hernandez has just completed his doctoral coursework at Ave Maria University, where he is majoring in systematic (dogmatic) and minoring in biblical theology. Anthony is writing his dissertation on St. Thomas Aquinas's doctrine of divine providence as applied to the Passion, death, and Resurrection of Christ. He has previously published on the virtues of the dying and the Mariology of Charles De Koninck.

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