Doubt and the Moral Systems

Man must always follow his conscience, provided he has formed it in the truth. But it happens that conscience remains in uncertainty: despite his search, man cannot manage to know whether a given act is permitted or forbidden. What then to do? One cannot suspend all action indefinitely, and yet one fears to sin. Catholic moral theology has long reflected on this difficulty, and it has drawn out sure principles for acting in doubt. These principles, and the different schools that discussed them, form what are called the moral systems.

The problem of moral doubt

The first rule is that one cannot act so long as one truly doubts that an act is permitted. To act in this doubt would amount to accepting in advance the risk of committing a sin, which is already a fault. The one who eats while doubting that it is permitted condemns himself, says Saint Paul, “because he does not act from conviction” Romans 14:23. The first duty, before doubt, is therefore to seek to remove it: to reflect, to inform oneself, to consult, until reaching a certainty. This certainty need not be total; a moral certainty suffices, the one that sets aside every serious motive for fearing error, and that is enough for acting uprightly.

But it happens that the doubt resists, that no search dispels it, and that one must nonetheless decide. The case is frequent: does such a rule really exist in this precise case? does it apply to my situation? does it bind me here? When the doubt bears thus on the existence or the extent of an obligation, and one cannot resolve it directly, morality offers a way out of it, founded on a sure principle.

A doubtful law does not bind

This principle is the following: a doubtful law does not bind. For an obligation to bind me in conscience, it must be certain; if I am not even sure that it exists or that it applies to my case, it cannot impose on me a certain duty. Thus, when I seriously doubt that a thing is forbidden, and this doubt remains after examination, I may hold that I am still free to do it, for the rule that would limit my freedom is not certain enough to bind me.

This principle has, however, a capital limit. It applies when one doubts that a thing is forbidden. It no longer applies when there is a precious good not to be put in danger, such as the salvation of a soul or the life of a person: before such a stake, one does not content oneself with what is probable, one takes the means of which one is sure. Two examples show it. For the sacraments: if one is not sure that a gesture suffices to baptize someone validly, one cannot content oneself with it, for the salvation of that person depends on it; one must use the manner one is certain is valid. For the life of another: if one does not know whether a person is still alive, for example after an accident, one must rescue them as if they were, for it would be gravely culpable to let them die on a mere doubt. In these cases, one always chooses safety, for one cannot take the slightest risk on a good so grave.

The moral systems

One thing remains to be made precise: when I doubt, to what degree must the opinion that tells me “you are free to do it” be solid for me to be able to follow it in peace? The theologians proposed on this point different answers, which are called the moral systems. To understand them, one must see that to each doubt are opposed two opinions: one leans toward the law (“better to abstain”), the other toward freedom (“you may do it”). The question is to know which one has the right to follow. The answers are divided between two excesses and balanced positions.

At one extreme stands tutiorism, from a Latin word meaning “the safest.” It requires always following the most prudent opinion, the one that leans toward abstention, even when the opinion that authorizes the act is very solid. The Church set it aside as too rigorist: it would make the moral life crushing, by imposing obligations where they are not certain.

At the other extreme stands laxism. It authorizes one to declare oneself free as soon as one finds the slightest reason to act, even weak and ill-founded. The Church condemned it as too lax: it allows one to justify almost anything, by seizing the first pretext that comes to escape the law.

Between these extremes stand the received positions, which all require that the opinion authorizing the act be seriously founded, but to differing degrees. Probabilism teaches that one can follow a solid opinion in favour of freedom, even if the contrary opinion, in favour of the law, seems still more solid, provided the first is truly founded. Probabiliorism, stricter, authorizes the act only when the opinion that authorizes it is more solid than the one that advises against it. And between the two, equiprobabilism authorizes the act when the two opinions are of roughly equal solidity.

The position of the Church

The way the Church has retained is that of a moderate probabilism, close to equiprobabilism. The rule of balance is the following: when the opinion that authorizes the act rests on serious reasons, one has the right to follow it, and one is not obliged always to choose abstention out of precaution. This holds so long as no precious good such as salvation or life is at stake; in these grave cases, one returns to the rule of safety. This position holds together two requirements. On the one hand, it respects the freedom of man, by refusing to burden him with uncertain obligations, according to the principle that a doubtful law does not bind. On the other hand, it keeps the care for the good, by requiring that the opinion followed rest on serious reasons, and by reserving always the safest means for grave matters.

This doctrine aims to free consciences from scruple while holding firm against laxity. The scrupulous, who sees sin everywhere and whom doubt paralyses, finds peace in it: he learns that an uncertain obligation does not weigh on him. The lax, who seeks pretexts for himself, meets in it a requirement: his opinion must be seriously founded, and not a mere desire in disguise. Between excessive fear and ease, the wisdom of the Church traces a straight path, where the soul can act in peace, assured of serving God where he asks it, and untroubled where he does not bind. All this rejoins the word of Saint Paul, who wills that man act in the light of an assured judgment: “Let each one have in his mind a full conviction.” Romans 14:5.