Thomas Aquinas: Political Philosophy

The political philosophy of Thomas Aquinas (1225-1274), along

with the broader philosophical teaching of which it is part, stands at the crossroads between the
Christian gospel and theAristotelian political doctrine that was, in Aquinas time, newly discovered in
the Western world. In fact, Aquinas whole developed system is often understood to be simply a
modification of Aristotelian philosophy in light of the Christian gospel and with special emphasis upon
those questions most relevant to Christianity, such as the nature of the divine, the human soul, and
morality. This generalization would explain why Aquinas seems to eschew, even neglect, the subject of
politics. Unlike his medieval Jewish and Islamic counterparts, Aquinas does not have to reconcile
Aristotelianism with a concrete political and legal code specified in the sacred writings of his religion.
As far as he is concerned, God no longer requires people to live according to the judicial precepts of
the Old Law (Summa Theologiae [hereafter ST], I-II, 104.3), and so the question of formulating a
comprehensive Christian political teaching that is faithful to biblical principles loses it urgency if not
its very possibility. Unlike Judaism and Islam, Christianity does not involve specific requirements for
conducting civil society. In fact, most Christians before Aquinas time (such as St. Augustine) had
interpreted Jesus assertion that we should render unto Caesar the things that are Caesars
(Matthew22:21) to mean that Christianity can flourish in any political regime so long as its authorities
permit believers to render unto God the things that are Gods. Although Jesus claimed to be a king,
he was quick to add that his kingdom was not of this world (John 18:36), and whereas St. Paul had
exhorted Christians to obey the civil authorities and even to suffer injustice willingly, he never
considered it necessary to discuss the nature of political justice itself.
These observations perhaps explain why Aquinas, whose writings nearly all come in the form of
extremely well organized and systematic treatises, never completed a thematic discussion of politics.
His letter On Kingship (written as a favor to the king of Cyprus) comes closest to fitting the description
of a political treatise, and yet this brief and unfinished work hardly presents a comprehensive
treatment of political philosophy. Even his commentary on Aristotles Politics is less than half complete,
and it is debatable whether this work is even intended to express Aquinas own political philosophy at
all. This does not mean, however, that Aquinas was uninterested in political philosophy or that he
simply relied on Aristotle to provide the missing political teaching that Christianity leaves out. Nor
does it mean that Aquinas does not have a political teaching. Although it is not expressed in overtly
political works, Aquinas thoughts on political philosophy may be found within treatises that contain
discussions of issues with far reaching political implications. In his celebrated Summa Theologiae, for
instance, Aquinas engages in long discussions of law, the virtue of justice, the common good,
economics, and the basis of morality. Even though not presented in the context of a comprehensive
political teaching, these texts provide a crucial insight into Aquinas understanding of politics and the
place of political philosophy within his thought.
Table of Contents
1. Natural Law
2. The Political Nature of Man
3. Human Legislation
4. The Requirements of Justice
5. The Limitations of Politics
6. References and Further Reading
a. Primary Sources
i. Aquinas Political Writings in English
ii. Two Useful Collections of Aquinas Political Writings in English
b. Secondary Sources
. Books
i. Articles and Chapters
1. Natural Law
Aquinas celebrated doctrine of natural law no doubt plays a central role in his moral and political
teaching. According to Aquinas, everything in the terrestrial world is created by God and endowed with
a certain nature that defines what each sort of being is in its essence. A things nature is detectable not
only in its external appearance, but also and more importantly through the natural inclinations which
guide it to behave in conformity with the particular nature it has. As Aquinas argues, Gods authorship
and active role in prescribing and sustaining the various natures included in creation may rightfully
be called a law. After defining law as an ordinance of reason for the common good, made by someone
who has care of the community, and promulgated. (ST, I-II, 90.4), Aquinas explains that the entire
universe is governed by the supreme lawgiver par excellence: Granted that the world is ruled by
Divine Providencethe whole community of the universe is governed by Divine Reason. (ST, I-II,
91.1). Even though the world governed by Gods providence is temporal and limited, Aquinas calls the
law that governs it the eternal law. Its eternal nature comes not from that to which it applies, but
rather from whom the law is derived, namely, God. As Aquinas explains, the very idea of the
government of things in God the Ruler of the universe, has the nature of a law. And since Divine
Reasons conception of things is not subject to time but is eternal, according to Prov. viii, 23this kind
of law must be called eternal. (Ibid.).
In the vast majority of cases, God governs his subjects through the eternal law without any possibility
that that law might be disobeyed. This, of course, is because most beings in the universe (or at least in
the natural world) do not possess the rational ability to act consciously in a way that is contrary to the
eternal law implanted in them. Completely unique among natural things, however, are humans who,
although completely subject to divine providence and the eternal law, possess the power of free choice
and therefore have a radically different relation to that law. As Aquinas explains, among all others,
the rational creature is subject to Divine Providence in the most excellent way, in so far as it partakes
of a share of providence, by being provident both for itself, and for others. Wherefore, it has a share of
the Eternal Reason, whereby it has a natural inclination to its proper act and end. (ST, I-II, 91.2).
Because the rational creatures relation to the eternal law is so different from that of any other created
thing, Aquinas prefers to call the law that governs it by a different name. Instead of saying that humans
are under the eternal law, therefore, he says they are under the natural law, and yet the natural law
is nothing else than the rational creatures participation of the eternal law (Ibid.). Another, equally
accurate, way of stating Aquinas position is that the natural law is the eternal law as it applies to
human beings.
As the rule and measure of human behavior, the natural law provides the only possible basis for
morality and politics. Simply stated, the natural law guides human beings through their fundamental
inclinations toward the natural perfection that God, the author of the natural law, intends for them.
As we have seen, however, the human subjugation to the eternal law (called the natural law) is always
concomitant with a certain awareness the human subject has of the law binding him. This awareness
is crucial in Aquinas view. Since one of the essential components of law is to be promulgated, the
natural law would lose its legal character if human beings did not have the principles of that law
instilled in their minds (ST, I-II, 90.4 ad 1). For this reason Aquinas considers the natural law to be a
habit, not in itself, but because the principles (or precepts) of the natural law are naturally held in our
minds by means of an intellectual habit, which Aquinas calls synderesis. Synderisis denotes a natural
knowledge held by all people instructing them as to the fundamental moral requirements of their
human nature. As Aquinas explains, just as speculative knowledge requires there to be certain
principles from which one can draw further conclusions, so also practical and moral knowledge
presupposes an understanding of fundamental practical precepts from which more concrete moral
directives may be derived. Whereas Aquinas calls the habit by which human beings understand the
first moral principles (which are also the first principles of the natural law) synderesis (ST, Ia, 79.12),
he calls the act by which one applies that understanding to concrete situations conscience (ST, Ia,
79.13). Therefore, by means of synderesis a man would know that the act of adultery is morally wrong
and contrary to the natural law. By an act of conscience he would reason that intercourse with this
particular woman that is not his wife is an act of adultery and should therefore be avoided. Thus
understood, the natural law includes principles that are universally accessible regardless of time, place,
or culture. In Aquinas words, it is the same in all humans (ST, I-II, 94.4), unchangeable (ST, I-II,
94.5), and cannot be abolished from the hearts of men (ST, I-II, 94.6). It is in light of this teaching that
Aquinas interprets St. Pauls argument that the Gentiles who have not the law do by nature what the
law requires, they are a law to themselves, even though they do not have the law. They show that what
the law requires is written on their hearts. (Romans 2:14-16).
How are the precepts of the natural law derived? According to Aquinas, the very first precept is that
good is to be done and pursued and evil is to be avoided. (ST, I-II, 94.2). As he explains, this principle
serves the practical reason just as the principle of non-contradiction serves the speculative reason.
Just as the speculative intellect naturally apprehends the fact that the same thing cannot be affirmed
and denied at the same time, the practical intellect apprehends that good is to be pursued and evil is
to be avoided. By definition, neither the first principle of speculative nor practical reason can be
demonstrated. Rather, they are principles without which human reasoning cannot coherently draw
any conclusions whatsoever. Otherwise stated, they are first principles inasmuch as they are not
derived from any prior practical or speculative knowledge. Still, they are just as surely known as any
other knowledge obtained through demonstrative reasoning. In fact, they are naturally known and
self-evident for the very same reason that they are not subject to demonstration. This is important
from Aquinas perspective because all practical knowledge (including the moral and political sciences)
must rest upon certain principles before any valid conclusions are drawn. To return to the above
example, a man who recognizes the evil of adultery will only know that this act of adultery must be
avoided if he first understands the more fundamental precept that evil ought to be avoided in general.
No one can prove this general principle to him. He simply understands it by the habit of synderesis.
Aquinas would be the first to recognize, of course, that the simple requirements of doing good and
avoiding evil fail to provide human beings with much content for pursuing the moral life. How, one
must ask, do we know what things actually are good and evil? In response to this Aquinas argues that
human beings must consult their natural inclinations. Beyond the mere knowledge that good is to be
pursued and evil avoided our natural inclinations are the most fundamental guide to understanding
where the natural law is directing us. In other words, our natural inclinations reveal to us what the
most fundamental human goods are. As Aquinas explains, man first has natural inclinations in
accordance with the nature he has in common with all substancessuch as preserving human life and
warding off its obstacles. Secondly, there are inclinations we have in common with other animals,
such as sexual intercourse, the education of offspring and so forth. And finally there are
inclinations specific to mans rational nature, such as the inclination to know the truth about God,
to shun ignorance, and to live in society. (Ibid.). It may seem strange that Aquinas would list the
pursuit of sexual intercourse as one of the natural inclinations supporting and defining the natural
law. To be sure, Aquinas recognizes that all the aforementioned inclinations are subject to the
corruption of our sinful nature. It is not morally good, therefore, simply to act on an inclination. One
must first recognize the natural purpose of a given inclination and only act upon it insofar as that
purpose is respected. This is why Aquinas is quick to add that all inclinations belong to the natural law
only insofar as they are ruled by reason. (ST, I-II, 94.2, ad 2). As someone is inclined to sexual
intercourse, for instance, he must also recognize that this natural good must be pursued only within a
certain context (that is, within marriage, open to the possibility of procreation, etc.). If this natural
order of reason is ignored, any natural good (even knowledge [ST, II-II, 167]) can be pursued in an
inappropriate way that is actually contrary to the natural law.
2. The Political Nature of Man
As we have seen, Aquinas mentions that one of the natural goods to which human beings are inclined
is to live in society. This remark presents the ideal point of departure for one of the most important
teachings of Thomistic political philosophy, namely, the political nature of man. This doctrine is taken
primarily from the first book of Aristotles Politics upon which Aquinas wrote an extensive
commentary (although the commentary is only completed through book 3, chapter 8 of
Aristotles Politics, Aquinas seems to have commented upon what he considered to be
the Politics theoretical core.). Following the Philosopher Aquinas believes that political society
(civitas) emerges from the needs and aspirations of human nature itself. Thus understood, it is not an
invention of human ingenuity (as in the political teachings of modern social contract theorists) nor an
artificial construction designed to make up for human natures shortcomings. It is, rather, a prompting
of nature itself that sets humans apart from all other natural creatures. To be sure, political society is
not simply given by nature. It is rather something to which human beings naturally aspire and which
is necessary for the full perfection of their existence. The capacity for political society is not natural to
man, therefore, in the same way as the five senses are natural. The naturalness of politics is more
appropriately compared to the naturalness of moral virtue (Commentary on the Politics, Book 1,
Lesson 1 [40]). Even though human beings are inclined to moral virtue, acquiring the virtues
nonetheless requires both education and habituation. In the same way, even though human beings are
inclined to live in political societies, such societies must still be established, built, and maintained by
human industry. To be fully human is to live in political society, and Aquinas makes a great deal of
Aristotles claim that one who is separated from society so as to be completely a-political must be either
sub-human or super-human, either a beast or a god. (Aristotles Politics, 1253a27; Cf.
AquinasCommentary, Book 1, Lesson 1 [39]).
Aquinas admits, of course, that political society is not the only natural community. The family is
natural in perhaps an even stronger sense and is prior to political society. The priority of the family,
however, is not a priority of importance, since politics aims at a higher and nobler good than the family.
It is rather a priority of development. In other words, politics surpasses all other communities in
dignity while at the same time depending upon and presupposing the family. On this point Aquinas
follows Aristotles explanation of how political society develops from other lower societies including
both the family and the village. The human family comes into existence from the nearly universal
tendency of males and females joining together for purposes of procreation. Humans share with other
animals (and even plants) a natural appetite to leave after them another being like themselves,
(Commentary on the Politics, Book 1, Lesson 1 [18]) and immediately see the utility if not the necessity
of both parents remaining available to provide for the needs of the children and one another. As
families grow in size and number there also seems to be a tendency for them to gravitate towards one
another and form villages. The reasons for this are primarily utilitarian. Whereas the household
suffices for providing the daily necessities of life, the village is necessary for providing non-daily
commodities (Commentary on the Politics, Book 1, Lesson 1 [27]). What Aquinas and Aristotle seem
to have in mind in describing the emergence of the village is the division of labor. Whereas humans
can reproduce and survive quite easily in families, life becomes much more productive and affluent
when families come together in villages, since one man can now specialize in a certain task while
fulfilling his familys remaining material needs through barter and trade.
Despite the villages usefulness to man, it nevertheless leaves him incomplete. This is partly because
the village is still relatively small and so the effectiveness of the division of labor remains limited. Much
more useful is the conglomeration of several villages, which provides a wider variety of commodities
and specializations to be shared by means of exchange (Commentary on the Politics Book 1, Lesson 1
[31]). This is one reason why the village is eclipsed by political society, which proves much more useful
to human beings because of its greater size and much more elaborate governmental structure. There
is, however, a far more important reason why political society comes into existence. In addition to
yielding greater protection and economic benefits, it also enhances the moral and intellectual lives of
human beings. By identifying with a political community, human beings begin to see the world in
broader terms than the mere satisfaction of their bodily desires and physical needs. Whereas the
residents of the village better serve their individual interests, the goal of the political community
becomes the good of the whole, or the common good, which Aquinas claims (following Aristotle) is
better and more divine than the good of the individual. (Commentary on the Politics, Book 1, Lesson
1 [11]). The political community is thus understood as the first community (larger than the family) for
which the individual makes great sacrifices, since it is not merely a larger cooperative venture for
mutual economic benefit. It is, rather, the social setting in which man truly finds his highest natural
fulfillment. In this sense, the political community, even though not directed to the individual good,
better serves the individual by promoting a life of virtue in which human existence can be greatly
ennobled. It is in this context that Aquinas argues (again following Aristotle) that although political
society originally comes into being for the sake of living, it exists for the sake of living well.
(Commentary on the Politics, Book 1, Lesson 1 [31]).
Aquinas takes Aristotles argument that political society transcends the village and completes human
social existence to prove that the city is natural. Similar, but not identical, to this claim is Aquinas
further assertion that man is by nature a civic and social animal. (ST, I-II, 72.4). To support this,
Aquinas refers us to Aristotles observation that human beings are the only animals possessing the
ability to exercise speech. Not to be confused with mere voice (vox), speech (loquutio) involves the
communication of thoughts and concepts between persons (ST, I-II, 72.4). Whereas voice is found in
many different animals that communicate their immediate desires and aversions to one another (seen
in the dogs bark and the lions roar) speech includes a conscious conception of what one is saying
(Commentary on the Politics, Book 1, Lecture 1 [36]). By means of speech, therefore, human beings
may collectively deliberate on core civic matters regarding what is useful and what is harmful, as well
as the just and the unjust. (Commentary on the Politics, Book 1, Lecture 1 [37]). Whereas other
animals exhibit a certain social tendency (as bees instinctively work to preserve their hive), only
humans are social in the sense that they cooperate through speech to pursue a common understanding
of justice, virtue, and the good. Since speech is the outward expression of his inner rationality, man is
political by nature for the same reason he is naturally rational.
The fact that man is a naturally political animal has far-reaching implications. In addition to being a
father, a mother, a farmer, or a teacher, a human being is more importantly identified as a citizen.
Achieving genuine human excellence, therefore, most always means achieving excellence as a citizen
of some political society (Aquinas does mention the possibility that someones supernatural calling
may necessitate that they live outside of political society. As examples of such people, he mentions
John the Baptist and Blessed Anthony the hermit. See his Commentary on the Politics, Book 1,
Lecture 1 [35].). To be sure, the requirements of good citizenship vary from regime to regime, but more
generally conceived the good citizen is the one that places the common good above his own private
good and acts accordingly. In doing so, such a person exhibits the virtue of legal justice whereby all of
his actions are referred in one way or another to the common good of his particular society (ST, II-II,
58.5). Following the progression of Aristotles discussion of citizenship, however, Aquinas recognizes
a certain difficulty in assigning an unqualifiedly high value to citizenship. What sense does it make to
speak of a good citizen in a bad regime? One does not need to consider the worst sorts of regimes to
see the difficulty inherent in achieving good citizenship. In any regime that is less than perfect there
always remains the possibility that promoting the interests of the regime and promoting the common
good may not be the same. To be sure, good men are often called to stand up heroically against tyrants
(ST, II-II, 42.2, ad 3), but the full potential of the good citizen will never be realized unless he lives in
best of all possible regimes. In other words, only in the best regime do the good citizen and the good
human being coincide (Commentary on the Politics, Book 3, Lecture 3 [366]). In fact, even the best
regime will fall short of producing a multitude of good citizens, since no society exists where everyone
is virtuous (Commentary on the Politics, Book 3, Lecture 3 [367]).
But what is the best regime? Following Aristotle, Aquinas argues that all regimes can be divided into
six basic types, which are determined according to two criteria: how the regime is ruled and whether
or not it is ruled justly (that is, for the common good). As he explains, political rule may be exercised
by the multitude, by a select few, or by one person. If the regime is ruled justly, it is called a monarchy
or kingship when ruled by one single individual, an aristocracy when ruled by a few, and a polity or
republic when ruled by the multitude. If, on the other hand, a regime is ruled unjustly (that is, for the
sake of the ruler(s) and not for the common weal), it is called a tyranny when ruled by one, an oligarchy
when ruled by a few, and a democracy when ruled by the multitude (On Kingship, Book 1, Chapter
1;Commentary on the Politics, Book 3, Lecture 6 [393-394]). Simply Stated, the best regime is
monarchy. Aquinas argument for this is drawn from a mixture of philosophical and theological
observations. Inasmuch as the goal of any ruler should be the unity of peace, the regime is better
governed by one person rather than by many. For this end is much more efficaciously secured by a
single wise authority who is not burdened by having to deliberate with others who may be less wise
and who may stand in the way of effective governance. As Aquinas observes in his letter On Kingship,
any governing body comprised of many must always strive to act as one in order to move the regime
closer to the intended goal. In this sense, therefore, the less perfect regimes tend to imitate monarchy
in which unanimity of rule is realized at once and without obstruction (On Kingship, Book 1, Chapter
2). This conclusion is confirmed by the example of nature, which always does what is best. For the
many powers of the human soul are governed by a single power, i.e., reason. A hive of bees is ruled by
a single bee, i.e., the queen. And most convincingly of all, the universe is governed by the single
authority of God, Maker and Ruler of all things. As art is called to imitate nature, human society is
therefore best that is governed by a single authority of a eminently wise and just monarch who
resembles God as much as humanly possible.
Aquinas is well aware, of course, that such a monarch is not always available in political societies, and
even where he is available it is not always guaranteed that the conditions will be right to grant him the
political authority he ought to wield. Even worse, there is always the danger that the monarch will be
corrupted and become a tyrant. In this case the best of all regimes has the greatest tendency to become
the worst. This is why, whereas monarchy is the best regime simply speaking, it is not always the best
regime in a particular time and place, which is to say it is certainly not always the best possible regime.
Therefore, Aquinas outlines in the Summa Theologiae a more modest proposal whereby political rule
is somewhat decentralized. The regime that he recommends takes the positive dimensions of all three
good regimes. Whereas it has a monarch at its head, it is also governed by others possessing a
certain degree of authority who may advise the monarch while curbing any tyrannical tendencies he
may have. Finally, Aquinas suggests that the entire multitude of citizens should be responsible for
selecting the monarch and should all be candidates for political authority themselves. Whereas the
best regime simply speaking is monarchy, the best possible regime seems to be the mixed government
that incorporates the positive dimensions of monarchy, aristocracy, and democracy (In the Summa
Theologiae, Aquinas appears to use the name of democracy in place of Aristotles conception of
polity.). To support this conclusion, Aquinas is able to cite the Hebrew form of government established
by God in the Old Testament. Whereas Moses (and his successors) ruled the Jews as a monarch, there
also existed a council of seventy-two elders which provided an element of aristocracy. Inasmuch as
the rulers were selected from among the people, this sacred regime of the Bible also incorporated a
certain dimension of democracy (ST, I-II, 105.1).
3. Human Legislation
The fact that regimes may vary according to time and place is a perfect example of the fact that not
every moral or political directive is specified by nature. In fact, Aquinas is eager to point out that the
natural law, while providing the fundamental basis for human action and politics, fails to provide
specific requirements for all the details of human social existence. For example, whereas the natural
law does provide certain general standards of economic justice (which we shall consider later on), it
does not give a preferred form of currency. There is no natural law that requires how often public roads
should be repaired, or whether military service will be mandatory or voluntary. Whereas Aquinas
argues that the natural law requires criminals to be punished for injustices such as murder, theft, and
assault, there is no natural specification as to precisely what kinds of punishments ought to be imposed
for these crimes. Even though, as Aquinas recognizes, these details do not pertain directly to whether
a regime is good or bad, human social life would be impossible to maintain without attention to such
detail. Such is the role, according to Aquinas, of human law (ST, I-II, 91.3).
This is not to suggest, of course, that human laws only concern those matters which may just as easily
be decided one way or another. Within a particular socio-political context, it may indeed be a terrible
mistake to make military service compulsory or in another context to punish treason with leniency,
even though the natural law does not specify which situations call for which measures. Additionally,
human law is necessary to enforce the moral and political requirements of the natural law that may go
unheeded. Even though the precepts of the natural law are available to human reason when it
considers matters rightly, not all human beings use their practical reason to its fullest capacity and
some act maliciously even when they happen to know better. And because the natural law does not
simply enforce itself, the basic requirements of justice must be bolstered by an organized and civilized
human authority (ST, I-II, 95.1). Accordingly, human laws serve two purposes. First, they provide the
missing details that the natural law leaves out due to its generality. Secondly, they compel those under
the law to observe those standards of justice and morality even about which the natural law does
specify. This second function of human law leads Aquinas to a crucial distinction. After asking whether
human laws are derived from the natural law, he argues that, although all human laws are derived
from the natural law in a certain sense, some are more directly derived than others. The distinction he
invokes is that between human laws which constitute conclusions from principles of natural law and
those which constitute determinations from the natural law. Human laws are considered conclusions
from the natural law when they pertain to those matters about which the natural law offers a clear
precept. To use Aquinas own example, that one must not kill may be derived as a conclusion from
the principle that one should do harm to no man. (ST, I-II, 95.2). Thus, human laws must include
prohibitions against murder, assault, and the like even though such actions are already prohibited by
the natural law. At the same time, however, the natural law does not specify exactly how a murderer
must be punished, whether (for example) by means of banishment, the death penalty, or
imprisonment. Such details depend upon a number of factors that prudent legislators and judges must
take into consideration apart from their understanding of the general principles of natural justice.
According to Aquinas, those dictates of natural reason which human beings should recognize as
directly pertaining to the natural law, and which are therefore common principles of human law in
many different regimes, are embodied in something called the law of nations [ius gentium]. Strictly
speaking, the law of nations is a human law derived as a set of conclusions from the natural law. On
the other hand, the law of nations is not the law of any particular regime and for this reason is
sometimes equated with the natural law itself. For Aquinas treatment of the law of nations (see ST, I-
II, 95.4 and ST, II-II, 57.3). Such details are the bases of human laws that Aquinas calls determinations
from the natural law. It is important to note that both conclusions and determinations are based on
the natural law in some way, for the question of how a murderer or a thief ought to be punished would
be meaningless without the more general requirement (found in the natural law itself) that injustice
must be met with a punishment that in some way fits the crime. To consider the matter by way of
analogy, we may take note of Aquinas own example in the Summa Theologiae. As he explains,
legislators rely upon their understanding of the natural law in the same way that craftsmen must use
the general form of a house before they build a particular house to which many architectural details
may be added (ST, I-II, 95.2). To press the analogy further, just as all houses must be built according
to certain general principles (e.g., all houses must have a roof, a foundation, windows, at least one
door, etc.), so also all political regimes must enforce certain human laws as conclusions from the
natural law (e.g., prohibitions against murder, theft, adultery, and assault). In the same way, just as a
house under construction may exhibit a wide array of details not belonging to the general form of a
house (e.g., some houses have a brick foundation and some are on a concrete slab, some are heated
with oil and some with natural gas, etc.), so also political regimes may vary according to similarly non-
essential details that Aquinas would call determinations of the natural law (e.g., determining specific
punishments for specific crimes).
In Aquinas view, human laws are essential for the maintenance of any organized and civilized society.
At the same time, however, Aquinas understands human laws to be somewhat limited in scope. Several
passages in the Summa Theologiae testify to this, including Aquinas comparison between human law
and divine law. As he explains, the very reason why divine law is necessary pertains directly to those
areas where human law (and even natural law) fall short. The most obvious example of this is the
simple fact that human laws may be in error. Regardless of whether they are intended to be conclusions
or determinations of the natural law, human laws are made by fallible human beings and may often
tend to hinder the common good rather than promote it. Secondly, Aquinas argues that, given certain
circumstances, some human laws may simply fail to apply. This does not necessarily mean that such
laws are unjust or even erroneously enacted. Aquinas suggests, rather, that there sometimes arise
situations in which securing the common good requires actions that violate the letter of the law. For
example, a law that requires the city gates to remain closed during certain times may need to be broken
to allow citizens to enter as they are pursued by enemy forces (ST, I-II, 96.6; II-II, 120.1). Thirdly,
Aquinas explains that human law is unable to direct the interior acts of a mans soul. As a result, human
law has a difficult time directing people toward the path of virtue, since genuine human goodness
depends not only on external actions but upon interior movements of the soul, which are hidden. This
is not to say that the coercive power of human law may not play some role in leading people to virtue,
or even that virtue should not be an express goal of human law (that virtue is an express goal of human
law, see ST, I-II, 92.1, 95.1.). It only means that the power of human law is limited by the fallible
intellects of the human beings who enforce it and who only see a persons external actions. Finally,
human law is unable to punish or forbid all evil deeds. (ST, I-II, 91.4). By this Aquinas means that
human laws must concentrate upon hindering those sorts of behaviors that are most damaging to the
commonwealth. Aquinas elaborates upon this by saying that the political community would do away
with many good things if it attempted to forbid all vices and punish every act that is judged to be
immoral. Thus understood, human legislators must remember that most of their subjects need to be
governed in relation to their limited capacity for virtue. As a result, human laws do not forbid all vices,
from which the virtuous abstain, but only the more grievous vices, from which it is possible for the
majority to abstain; and chiefly those that are to the hurt of others, without the prohibition of which
human society could not be maintained: thus human law prohibits murder, theft, and suchlike. (ST,
I-II, 96.2).
4. The Requirements of Justice
As we have seen, Aquinas argument for the necessity of human law includes the observation that some
human beings require an additional coercive incentive to respect and promote the common good. By
means of the law, those who show hostility to their fellow citizens are restrained from their evildoing
through force and fear, and may even eventually come to do willingly what hitherto they did from
fear, and become virtuous. (ST, I-II, 95.1). During this discussion, Aquinas mentions two specific
dimensions of the common good that are of particular concern to human legislation. The first of these
is peace. By this term (pax), Aquinas means something considerably more mundane than any sort
of inner peace or spiritual tranquility that one finds as a result of moral or intellectual perfection.
Instead, he seems to have in mind the requirements for maintaining a social order in which citizens
are free from the aggression of wrongdoers and other preventable threats to safety or livelihood. In
addition to preserving social order at its most basic level, however, Aquinas also makes clear in the
above passage that human law should strive to instill virtue, and specifically that kind of virtue which
has to do with the common good of society. In other words, human law is interested in instilling virtues
insofar as those virtues perfect human beings in their dealings with fellow citizens and the broader
community as a whole. Later in the Summa Theologiae, Aquinas calls this kind of virtue legal justice.
(ST, II-II.58.5-6; Commentary on Aristotles Nicomachean Ethics, Book 5, Lecture 2).
According to Aquinas, legal justice is the political virtue par excellence. Contrary to what its name
appears to signify, this virtue does not imply simple obedience to the law. It means, rather, an inner
disposition of the human will by which those possessing it refer all their actions to the common good
(Aquinas follows Aristotle in calling it legal justice because the law, too, has the common good as its
proper object. See his Commentary on Aristotles Nicomachean Ethics, Book 5, Lecture 2 [902]). Thus
understood, Aquinas (again following Aristotle) considers it to be a general virtue. By this he means
that legal justice embraces any act of virtue whatsoever, so long as the agent refers his action to legal
justices proper object. To use Aquinas example, fortitude is normally considered to be a virtue distinct
from justice, since fortitude deals with the perfection of the irascible appetite and a persons ability to
overcome fear, whereas justice deals with the perfection of the will and a persons dealings with others.
However, a particular act of fortitude may be referred to the common good as its object and thus
become an act of justice as well. For example, a soldier who rushes into battle displays fortitude by
overcoming his fear of death, but he also displays justice if he is motivated by a love for the common
good of the society he protects. Considered specifically, his action is courageous. Considered generally,
it is an act of justice. As Aquinas explains, the good of any virtue, whether such virtue direct man in
relation to himself, or in relation to certain other individual persons, is referable to the common good,
to which justice directs: so that all acts of virtue can pertain to justice, insofar as it directs man to the
common good. (ST, II-II, 58.5).
In addition to considering justice generally, however, Aquinas also considers it as a particular virtue
of its own. This seems to explain why he mentions in a later discussion of human legislation that the
law should promote justice in addition to peace and virtue (ST, I-II, 96.3). Regardless of the fact that
justice is a virtue that legislators would like to instill within their citizens, the law also seeks to preserve
justice as a certain kind of fairness. This becomes clearer when one considers Aquinas discussion of
right (ius), which he characterizes as the object of justice considered as a particular virtue, and which
must be safeguarded by the law regardless of whether legislators have succeeded in implanting
the virtue of justice in the souls of their citizens. Strictly speaking, ius is understood by Aquinas as
synonymous withiustum, or that which is just in a particular situation (ST, II-II, 57.1). Aside from
making their citizens just by cultivating in them the perpetual and constant will to render to each one
his right [ius], (ST, II-II, 58.1) legislators and judges ensure that the ius of particular situations
between individuals is established or restored, that each person receives what is due to him such that
a certain equality is maintained among citizens. When a judge orders a person to pay $100 to another
for a service rendered, for example, that judge reestablishes the equality of their relationship before
the service was performed. In such a case, the $100 owed to the provider of the service is his ius, which
must be returned if justice in this case is to be accomplished. Again, this is not a sense of justice
according to which the one paying his debt necessarily exhibits the virtue of justice, but in the sense
that his actions (proceeding from any motivation whatsoever) reestablish that certain equality which
can only be restored if the one who owes renders no more and no less of his debt to the one who is
owed. To exhibit the virtue of justice, therefore, is much more than to perform an action that
reestablishes the equality of justice or renders to someone his ius, and yet without the notion of ius,
Aquinas concept of justice as a virtue would be unintelligible. This is why the concept of ius lies
especially at the core of that part of justice which Aquinas characterizes as particular. In contrast to
the general virtue of legal justice, which directs the acts of the other specific virtues to the common
good, particular justice always includes some person or group who owes some sort of identifiable debt
to another.
In explaining the details of particular justice, Aquinas further distinguishes between commutative
justice and distributive justice. The example above involving one person owing $100 to another for a
service rendered would be an example of commutative justice, because it involves one private
individuals debt to another private individual. It may happen, however, that something is owed to a
person by the community as a whole. In this case the community distributes things according to what
each individual deserves. An example of this sort of debt would be found in the realm of punitive
justice. Since the punishment of criminals is not a matter pertaining to private citizens, but society as
a whole (ST, I-II, 92.2 ad 3), a political community owes a certain amount of punishment that must be
inflicted upon a criminal if the equality of justice is to be restored. The degree of punishment,
furthermore, constitutes the ius of the particular situation. Therefore, just as in matters of exchange,
where it would be unjust to fall short of or exceed the ius between buyers and sellers, it would likewise
be unjust for a society to punish more or less than the criminal deserves. In addition to punishment, a
political society may distribute such things as wealth, honor, material necessities, or work. As Aquinas
explains, however, distributive justice seldom requires that society render an equal amount (good or
bad) to its members. Following Aristotles teaching in the Nicomachean Ethics, Aquinas argues that
the ius of distributive justice must be calculated according to a geometrical proportion. By this he
simply means that more should be given to those who deserve more and less to those who deserve less.
To return to the example of punishment, it would be gravely unfair to punish a murderer with the same
penalty as a shoplifter. The equality that justice requires must be considered proportionally in the
sense that greater punishments for greater crimes (and lesser punishments for lesser crimes) do in fact
constitute equal treatment (Summa Contra Gentiles, III.142 [2]). Such is not the case in matters of
commutative justice such as buying and selling, which Aquinas says must follow an arithmetic
proportion. By this Aquinas simply means that the good or service provided must be proportional to
the value of the currency or commodity for which it is exchanged (ST, II-II, 61.2;Commentary on
Aristotles Nicomachean Ethics, Book 5, Lecture 5).
To observe how this teaching is applied to particular situations in the political community, it is helpful
to consider Aquinas famous discussion of usury. Usury inherently constitutes a violation of
commutative justice, according to Aquinas, because it creates an unfair inequality among those private
individuals in society. Aquinas logic is extremely straightforward. If I lend someone $1000 there exists
a $1000 disparity in his favor. The fact that he owes me this sum of money means that there now exists
a ius that obliges him to pay me back the money he borrowed. If, however, I charge him a 10 percent
fee for the use of the money lent, I require him to pay back $100 more than he originally borrowed.
According to Aquinas, by doing this I would be charging him $100 more than what I am entitled to
receive. Since he only borrowed $1000, he should only have to pay me back $1000.
Aquinas condemnation of usury has little to do with the idea that money should only be lent from the
motive of generosity (even if this happens to be a consequence). It is, rather, based on his notion of the
nature of money itself. Contrary to most modern economic theories, Aquinas understands money to
be nothing more than a medium for exchanging commodities and thus subject to the requirements of
commutative justice. Any use of money beyond this purpose distorts its original function. If money
can ever be considered a commodity in its own right, it should be compared to those commodities
whose use consists in their consumption. (ST, II-II, 78.1). Its exchange value is more akin to
something like food or wine than to a house or a tool. When someone lends his house to be used, it
makes perfect sense to charge rent and also to repossess the house when the allotted time for renting
has expired. On the other hand, it would be quite unreasonable for a grocer to charge a fee for his food
and then additionally to demand the food back after it is used. As Aquinas explains, the exchange value
of money should be considered more like food than a house: Now money, according to the
Philosopher, was invented chiefly for the purpose of exchange: and consequently the proper and
principal use of money is consumption or alienation whereby it is sunk in exchange. Hence it is by its
very nature unlawful to take payment for the use of money lent. (It is necessary to add that Aquinas
does allow lenders to require an additional fee under two conditions. The first would be if money is
lent to someone entering a business venture in which the lender shares some of the risk [periculum].
If, for example, I lend someone $1000 to invest in renting a vineyard, I am entitled to a share in his
profits so long as I also agree to lose some or all of my money if the investment yields a net loss [ST,
II-II, 78.2, ad 5]. Secondly, I may charge an additional fee for money lent if lending causes me to suffer
some loss that I would have otherwise avoided. For example, if my loan of $1000 to a friend in need
prevents me from paying my rent and thus incurring a $100 late fee, I may justly demand $1100 in
return to cover my losses [ST, II-II, 78.2, ad 1]). Again, Aquinas condemns usury because it exceeds
the ius that justice requires to exist between individuals. The same injustice would exist if one were to
take advantage of a buyers desperation by selling a product for more than its value or to take advantage
of a sellers desperation by buying something for less than its value (ST, II-II, 77.1). In either case
someone falls short of or exceeds the ius of a given situation, which is inherently contrary the equality
that justice requires.
5. The Limitations of Politics
As we have seen, much of Aquinas political teaching is adapted from the Aristotelian political science
which he studied in great detail and which he largely embraced. Perhaps the most central Aristotelian
political doctrine in Aquinas view is the inherent goodness and naturalness of political society. It is
also necessary to understand, however, that in addition to being good and natural political society is
also limited in several important respects, not all of which would have been pointed out by Aristotle
but are unique to Aquinas teaching. As we have already seen, Aquinas believes that the human laws
governing political societies must be somewhat limited in scope. For example, the fact that something
like the practice of usury is unjust does not necessarily mean that political society can or should forbid
it: Human laws leave certain things unpunished, on account of the condition of those who are
imperfect, and who would be deprived of many advantages, if all sins were strictly forbidden and
punishments appointed for them. (ST, II-II, 78.1 ad 3). In this argument, Aquinas is making the
simple point that human law is incapable of regulating every dimension of social life. Perhaps he would
elaborate that attempting to police the practice of usury may in some cases hinder a societys ability to
prevent more serious crimes like murder, assault, and robbery (ST, I-II, 96.2). This is due to the limited
nature of human law and political society itself and is one of the reasons why God has wisely chosen
to apply his own divine law to human affairs. In addition to its infallibility and the fact that it applies
to the interior movements of mans soul, divine law is able to punish all vices while demanding the
moral perfection from humans that God expects (ST, I-II, 91.4). Human law, on the other hand, must
often settle for preventing only those things that imperil the immediate safety of those protected by it.
This is not to say that human law does not also look to promote virtue, but the virtues it succeeds in
instilling seldom fulfill the full moral capabilities of human citizens.
Secondly, Aquinas definition of natural law as the human participation in the eternal law also
indicates something emphatically trans-political about human nature that cannot be found in the
Aristotelian doctrine to which Aquinas largely adapted his own. Whereas Aristotle had argued for the
existence of a natural standard of morality, he never suggested an overarching human community with
a supreme lawgiver, and yet this is precisely what Aquinas teaching explicitly affirms (ST, I-II, 91.1-
2). Not only is the natural law a universally binding law for all humans in all places (something that
Aristotle never recognized), it also points to the existence of a God that consciously and providently
governs human affairs as a whole (also something absent from the Aristotelian teaching). Without
such divine origins, the natural law would lose its legal character, since under Aquinas own definition
there can be no law that does not derive from someone who has care of the community. (ST, I-II,
90.3-4) Hence the very existence of natural law implies a more universal community under God that
transcends political society. This is also apparent by looking at the epistemological basis of Aquinas
natural law theory. As we have seen, human beings know the precepts of the natural law by a natural
habit Aquinas calls synderesis. Whereas these precepts may be reinforced by the political community,
they are first promulgated by nature itself and instilled in mans mind by the hand of God. They owe
nothing, therefore, to political society for their content. This is considerably different from the
Aristotelian doctrine that includes no teaching regarding the self-evident first principles of natural
morality upon which Aquinas natural law theory stands or falls and that seems to suggest (contrary
to Aquinas view) that no universally binding law even exists that is not somewhat subject to change
from regime to regime (Nicomachean Ethics, 1134b33). This difference points out in a particularly
striking way the un-Aristotelian character of Aquinas insistence that all regimes, whether they realize
it or not, are under Gods supreme authority and owe the binding force of their laws to the more
fundamental natural law of which God is the sole author.
Finally, political society as Aquinas understands it is limited in an even further sense. We may observe
this by returning to Aquinas claim that political society is natural. In one sense, of course, this
affirmation of Aristotles teaching constitutes a very high exaltation of the political. Only by living in
political society is man capable of achieving his full natural potential. Thus understood politics is no
mere instrumental good (as in the teachings of modern political thinkers such as Hobbes and Locke),
but is part of the very fabric of the human person, and thus the individuals participation in political
society is a great intrinsic good for the individual as well as for society. On the other hand, the
characterization of politics as natural also means for Aquinas that it falls short of mans ultimate
supernatural end. For this reason Aquinas never ceases to remind us that, although politics is natural
to man and constitutes an important aspect of the natural law, man is not ordained to the body politic
according to all that he is and has. (ST, I-II, 21.4 ad 3). By this Aquinas means that beyond the
fulfillment of the natural law, the active participation in political society, and even the exercise of the
moral virtues, human beings find their complete perfection and happiness only in beatitudethe
supernatural end to which they are called. Of course, beatitude is only fully completed in the afterlife
(ST, I-II, 5.3), but even in his terrestrial existence man is called upon to exercise a supernatural
perfection made possible through his active cooperation with Gods grace. Precisely because it is a
natural institution, political society is not equipped to guide human beings toward the attainment of
this higher supernatural vocation. In this respect it must yield to the Church, which (unlike political
society) is divinely established and primarily concerned with the distribution of divine grace and the
salvation of souls (On Kingship, Book I, Chapters 14-15). Again, to say that political society is merely
natural is not to suggest that it should only concern mans basic natural needs such as food, shelter,
and safety. The common good that political authorities pursue includes the maintenance of a just
society where individual citizens may flourish physically as well as morally. Politics thus promotes the
natural virtues (most of all justice), which are themselves the human souls preparation for the
reception of divine grace and the infusion of the supernatural virtues of faith, hope, and, above all,
charity. The best one can hope from political society is that citizens will be well disposed to receive the
grace available to them through the Church, which transcends politics both in its universality as well
as in the finality of its purpose.