The Bulverism of Pope Francis

His attacks are infuriating, and C. S. Lewis, as usual, knows why

Pope Francis’s new autobiography, Hope, has been released.

It’s always a case with him of the more you know, the less you know.

My husband Phil Lawler reports that it reveals little about one of the most pressing and decisive questions, the scandal of sexual abuse, and how it relates to Pope Benedict’s resignation:

While he expresses his sorrow about the scandals that have enveloped the Vatican, Pope Francis does not give any new information on that front, either. Shortly after his election, Pope Francis met with his predecessor, Pope Benedict XVI, who presented him with a large box of documents. In Hope, Pope Francis confirms what many Vatican-watchers had strongly suspected: that the box contained “documents relating to the most difficult and painful situations: cases of abuse, corruption, dark dealings, wrongdoings.” But Pope Francis says nothing further about the information in those files, or what—if anything—he had done to address the scandals.

Besides the scandal, another issue of grave importance — even more so, as it has to do with a vital means of extricating ourselves from the mess — has to do with the liturgy, and tradition in general.

In the autobiography we’re treated to the same old rants we have become accustomed to over these long weary years: Rigidity, Doctors of the Law, Lace.

The bitter irony of the title of the book — Hope — immediately strikes the lover of tradition, who senses the danger of losing that virtue. Despite having the best evidence, sound logic, and plain common sense, we see very well by now that we have no (earthly) hope of making headway against Pope Francis’s autocratic command, synodality notwithstanding.

But do we realize why? It’s because it’s based on a particular modern strategy of assuming the conclusion of a controversy and then going on to describe the motives for holding the opposing view.

This approach is identified with great clarity by C. S. Lewis*: “I have found this vice so common that I have had to invent a name for it. I call it ‘Bulverism.’” (NB: he develops the philosophical deformation more fully in The Abolition of Man.)

Let’s start with a sampling of what Pope Francis has to say in his book, as reported here — again, nothing new, just a tightly framed, unvarying, relentless attack — emphases added:

It is curious to see this fascination for what is not understood, for what appears somewhat hidden, and seems also at times to interest the younger generations.

Always, always, the accusation of rigidity, a classic bit of psychological jargon:

This rigidity is often accompanied by elegant and costly tailoring, lace, fancy trimmings, rochets. Not a taste for tradition but clerical ostentation, which then is none other than an ecclesiastic version of individualism. Not a return to the sacred but to quite the opposite, to sectarian worldliness.

Here is the kicker:

These ways of dressing up sometimes conceal mental imbalance, emotional deviation, behavioral difficulties, a personal problem that may be exploited.

Instead of trying to respond to his charges as to motive — of imbalance, mental issues, something wrong in the head, personal problems — let’s acknowledge that they cannot be responded to.

The reason Pope Francis essentially captures the high ground (in worldly terms) has to do with this rhetorical and psychological trick. Further, this trick casts a pall on any defense, which will perforce seem weak even if, when encountered separately from the context he gives them, are historically sound, theologically correct, and full of common sense.

Nothing is less convincing than protesting an attack on one’s motives.**

Lewis:

The modern method is to assume without discussion that [your enemy] is wrong and then distract his attention from this (the only real issue) by busily explaining how he became to be so silly.

Bulverism, or beginning your statement with outright dismissal of the other’s position, has the marvelous result that

refutation is no necessary part of argument. Assume your opponent is wrong, and then explain his error, and the world will be at your feet. Attempt to prove that he is wrong or (worse still) try to find out whether he is wrong or right, and the national dynamism of our age will thrust you to the wall…

How can one defend oneself against the charge of being bonkers or absurd? It’s a good trick! Anyone who protests simply offers further evidence of that defect! Brilliant!

Pope Francis is, above all, on the move to some future state where all that is behind us can be forgotten. Thus, for him, the only possible reason to wish to retain anything from the past must be located in a defect of mind or intent.

Lewis:

Now this is obviously great fun; but it has not always been noticed that there is a bill to pay for it. There are two questions that people who say this kind of thing ought to be asked. The first is, are all thoughts thus tainted at the source, or only some? The second is, does the taint invalidate the tainted thought – in the sense of making it untrue – or not?

To get at Pope Francis’s strategy, in these passages from Lewis’s essay, replace “Christianity” with “Tradition”:

On the assumption that Christianity is an error, I can see clearly enough that some people would still have a motive for inculcating it.

I see it so easily that I can, of course, play the game the other way round, by saying that “the modern man has every reason for trying to convince himself that there are no eternal sanctions behind the morality he is rejecting.” For Bulverism is a truly democratic game in the sense that all can play it all day long, and that it give no unfair advantage to the small and offensive minority who reason.

So it seems to me, and I have long held, that the only possible response to this gambit is to turn the table.

Maybe Pope Francis has an emotional deformation that makes it impossible for him to relate to or understand those who love what has always been held.

However, Lewis points out: the one thing this way of arguing can’t accomplish is discovering the truth:

But of course it gets us not one inch nearer to deciding whether, as a matter of fact, the Christian religion is true or false. That question remains to be discussed on quite different grounds – a matter of philosophical and historical argument. However it were decided, the improper motives of some people, both for believing it and for disbelieving it, would remain just as they are.

In short, my message here is to learn to recognize Bulverism!

“Do you question my mental balance? What gives you the right? How’s yours? What are your motives?”

Let’s be clear: the motives of someone who surrounds himself — and us — with known sodomites, abusers, and abuser-adjacent men should be questioned a lot sooner than those of people defending tradition, that is to say, the Catholic Faith.

footnotes:

*Bulverism: The Foundation of 20th Century Thought by C. S. Lewis, found online here.

**Obviously there will always be silly or obsessed people in any situation. Their inevitable existence should not, and ought not, deflect from examining the objective merits of that situation.

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