The Character of the Human Person

a) Meaning of Person

The term person, as a mere word, has an odd and interesting derivation. It comes from the Latin personare, “to sound through,” and has reference to the mask worn by a player on the stage—a mask through which the sound of the actor’s voice is carried to the audience, or through which the represented character “sounds” to the playgoers. The real meaning of person is very far removed (although possibly circuitously derived) from this literal or etymological sense of the term. A person is a complete substantial being (not a part or element of another substance), which is endowed with understanding and free-will. In philosophical language, a person is “a complete, individual, autonomous substance of the rational order.” This definition calls for a word of explanation. First of all a person is a substance. A substance is a reality (and, strictly understood, a created reality, a finite being) which is fitted to exist itself. That is, while it requires a Creator and Preserver, it does not require some creature other than itself in which to have or hold existence as a mark, quality, characteristic, or modification. Realities which do require another thing as a subject or substrate in which to hold their own existence, are called, not substances, but accidentals or, more technically, accidents. And we may classify all finite reality with approximate exactness as substances and accidents. An apple, for example, is a substance; its color, size, shape, flavor, texture, position, rest or movement, are accidents. The apple exists itself; the other things mentioned exist as marks or determinations of the apple. Color, to exist, requires some bodily thing (some substance} which is colored, that is, the surfaces of which can have or hold or reflect color. Size is manifestly not a thing existent in itself; it can exist only as the mark of some mensurable bodily thing. So also with the other accidents mentioned; these are not things fitted to exist in themselves or by themselves, but to exist as the modifications, marks, or characteristics of other things. Accidents may qualify other accidents (as the velocity of an arrow is an accident or qualification of its movement, which movement in turn is an accident of the arrow), but the basis of accidents is always a substance. Substance is not directly perceivable by any of the senses, but it is understood by the mind; it is that reality which is qualified by the accidents which the senses do perceive, and which the intellect understands as things not fitted for existence by or in themselves. A substance is either bodily or spiritual. The complete man is a bodily substance; the soul is a spiritual substance, as we have seen in an earlier Chapter. (C/. Book First, Chap. II, Art. I, b). Secondly, a person is a complete substance. A complete substance is one that is not naturally framed for existence in fusion or substantial unity with another substance. An animal or a tree or an apple is a complete substance. An incomplete substance tends to union with another substance, so that the two are fused into a single substantial compound or composed substance. Sometimes an incomplete substance, unless it be spiritual, cannot exist without the other substance with which it is naturally united to form a composed or compound (and therefore single) substance. But it is not to be confused with an accident on this account; for an accident exists in a substance as its mark or characteristic or qualification, but an incomplete substance exists with its cosubstance, and is no mere mark or qualification of the latter, but an essential component part of the resultant compound, even as the co-substance is. When, therefore, we say that a person is a complete substance, we mean that a person is not merely an essential element of a compound; is not merely an essential part of a composed substance; we mean that the person is the substance in question, and that the substance in question is not merely the essential part of something else.—It is to be noted that we are speaking here of created substances and creatural persons. If we extend substance to include the

Infinite (r. e., God) there is nothing contradictory in the idea of such substance, one and indivisible in itself, subsisting in a plurality of persons. That there are Three Persons, distinct and co-equal, in the one undivided Divine Substance, we know by faith; that there is no contradiction or inherent impossibility in this fact, we know by philosophy. But our discussion is not concerned with matters of theology; we are speaking now of finite substances and created persons.—To illustrate: a man is a complete substance; his body (as human) and his soul are incomplete substances. The body of a man cannot exist (as a human body) unless the soul be substantially united with it; the soul, however, can exist, as this human soul, but not as the entire man, when death separates these incomplete co-substances. Body and soul substantially unite to form one complete substance, which is the man. The body, after a man’s death, is a parcel of various physical and chemical substances, but it is no longer a truly human thing, although it may for a time retain the outer shape of a man. Thus the body is an incomplete substance. The soul, after a man’s death, exists, but it is not the whole man. The soul, therefore, is a complete substance as a human soul, but it is incomplete as a man. An angel is a complete substance, for it is a spirit which is not formed for union with another substance in such wise that the resultant compound is one composed substance. An angel is a person; a man is a person.

A man’s body is not a person; a man’s soul is not perfectly a human person. Created persons are these and only these: men and angels. The reason why animals, plants, and inanimate things are not persons will appear in a moment. Thirdly, a person is autonomous. The old Latin phrase for this requirement of substantial personality is sui juris, “of one’s own right.” The phrase indicates the fact that the substance which it describes is, so to speak, master of its own proper activities and operations and does not share their control with any other finite substance. A man is autonomous or sui juris, for a man is a substantial unit, complete and finished, and not a mere part or element of another substance which controls him. A man’s hand is a substantial thing; it is a substance; but, apart from the man who uses it, the hand has not the control of its operations as a hand; therefore, the hand is not autonomous or sui juris. A plant is sui juris, but the twig or branch of the plant is not. The twig exercises its plant-functions of growth and fruitfulness by reason of its integral union with the plant; it is the plant that grows and flourishes, and it manifests these functions in and by means of each twig and branch and part Should the twig be broken off, it is sui juris, either as a new plant (supposing it capable of living and growing if planted), or as a dying or dead substance with the activities proper to such things (cohesion, response to gravity, inertia, etc.).

Many substances are complete and autonomous without being persons, but completeness and autonomy are requisites for substantial personality. The crowning note in the definition of person is found in the phrase, “of the rational order.” The phrase means that a person has understanding and free-will. For “the rational order” is that classification of living things which marks them as having understanding or rational power or simply reason. And reason involves free-will. For where understanding or reason exists, the natural appetency proper to such power as its consequent, or rather concomitant, must also exist, and this appetency is free-will. We have already explained this matter in our studies of man’s soul. (C/. Book First, Chap. 2, Art. 2, &). A person, therefore, is a complete, autonomous substance, endowed with understanding and free-will. Thus animals, plants, and inanimate substances—while they may be complete and autonomous—are never persons; such things fail of personality because they do not belong to “the rational order.” Every human being, from the first moment of conception, has full personality and full human dignity. Nor is personality lost through idiocy, insanity, delirium, or unconsciousness. Personality comes with the creation and infusion of the human soul and is /never lost thereafter. Death brings a break, it is true, but the soul retains the most important elements of personality, and though not a full-fledged human person, it is yet a spiritual person, for, as a soul, it is a complete autonomous substance of the rational order, even though, as a man, it is incomplete. Thus the immortal soul endures in endless personality. By faith we know with certainty what philosophy indicates as most probable, namely, that the soul will be joined with its body again, and the complete human personality of every man will endure eternally. Every person is of the rational order. Rational means equipped with the faculties of understanding and free-will; but it does not necessarily mean having the use of understanding and free-will. Thus, a new-born baby is rational, so is an insane man, so is an unconscious man, so is a man in delirium, so is a person asleep. These persons are not actually using reason; various things prevent such use—immaturity, insanity, delirium, unconsciousness. But these persons would inevitably use reason were the obstacles which thwart its use removed, and so they belong to the rational order and are called rational beings.

b) The Dignity of Man

In all this bodily universe we find no being to meet the requirements of the definition of person except human beings. Plants and beasts are wonderful and splendid things, surpassing all inanimate nature, which is itself most amazingly wonderful. Plants and the animals other than man have marvellously complex and refined structures; they exercise operations of such intricate and involved character, and withal are so exactly balanced and so delicately adjusted, that they are at once the admiration and the despair of the scientific investigator. They have the mysterious thing called life, which no one has ever satisfactorily defined; they exercise vital functions, each in its own determined way, in a manner perfectly suited to their requirements; they exhibit in structure and function alike the most useful, the most beautiful, balance and delicacy, order and harmony, plan and purpose. But man, while he has all that is marvellous and beautiful, in structure or function, that plants and beasts possess—and indeed in a much higher and more complex degree— has something essentially different from the perfections of these lower forms of life, something essentially superior to them, something that makes him an essentially different kind of being from animal or plant. This “something” is the spiritual soul, by reason of which he is rational, that is to say, equipped with understanding and free-will. And the spiritual soul with its splendid rational faculties does not merely make man peculiarly and superbly autonomous during his worldly life; it assures his unending existence; it dowers him with immortality. And so does man stand out as the greatest of the works of bodily creation, the king of this material universe, wherein he dwells for a time as one who “has not here a lasting city.” Man is equipped with understanding to direct his course, with will to choose it. And while these high gifts are capable of abuse that involves endless ruin, the fact remains that they are inexpressibly glorious endowments and are naturally meant, not for defeat and ruin, but for wondrous achievement. Man, in a word, is equipped for the task (under God) of winning endless happiness and glory, of fulfilling the capacities of his being in the fadeless rapture of the Vision of God in Heaven. So has man an eternal and a most ennobling destiny. By reason of his spiritual soul, his rational faculties, his glorious and immortal destiny, man is of incomparably greater value than any other bodily creature. The old name for human worth or value is dignity. Manifestly, we do not here employ the term dignity as it is used in casual speech. Men talk of a person’s dignity when they mean his seriousness, or his noble bearing; men speak of dignities in the sense of important duties or high positions. But we use dignity here to signify worth or value, and this in no terms of worldly wealth, grandeur, or service; we mean inherent worth or value; we mean worth or value that belongs to a human being as such, whether he be young or old, refined or boorish, cultured or uncouth, sick or well, sane or insane, law-abiding or criminal, bond or free. For the worth or dignity of a man is so intimately and essentially bound up with his very nature that there is no severing the two. Human dignity is an essential attribute of the human person, the individual man. It is not an attribute of society as such, but of each member of society. The personality of each individual human being involves transcendent worth, incalculable value, and a dignity that is, in one sense, infinite. When we ascribe man’s dignity to his personality, we mean his substantial personality. We do not use the term personality as it is used in the modern discussions that are loosely described as psychology. The indefiniteness and ineptitude of such discussions have got current the notion that personality is a mere charm of manner, an indefinable aura that is sometimes called color or glamor; and sometimes the term suggests a power of impressing or swaying others, a natural or acquired ability to please, to lead, to dominate. As we have said, we use the term in no such sense. By personality we indicate the character of every human being; one has personality by being a person; and the personality of each person is of the same nature- in each, not subject to degrees. The personality of an insane criminal is as great, philosophically, as that of the master of m£h who has but to appear to command enthusiastic approval, and whose very word wins him an ardent following.

c) The Root-principle of Sociology

The principles of a science are the fundamental truths upon which the science rests and out of which it is developed. The principles of sociology are the truths which are fundamental to any theorizing about man and his welfare, and which give direction to any practical measures adopted or recommended by sociologists for the well-being of society. The principles of sociology constitute the philosophy of sociology. Now, all that we have learned in this study of God, of Christ, of man’s soul, of man’s origin, nature, and personality, are principles of sociology. But some of these principles, while of incalculable importance theoretically and practically, are more or less remote from the immediate work-in-hand of the sociologist. But there is one principle which the sociologist finds everywhere and always in his work, whether of theory or of active plan and program; one principle is so fundamental, and, at the same time, so far-reaching, that there is not one single social project that may be properly undertaken without giving it full consideration and drawing clearly upon its light and power. This is the principle of human dignity or worth. The sane sociologist can never for an instant forget that he is dealing with men, with persons, with beings that have, as individuals> an inherent dignity which precludes all thought of handling them like herds of animals, or of treating any single one of them as anything less than the image of God. Modern sociology, based as it is upon false and inadequate principles, very generally ignores human dignity, and is, in so far forth, a contradiction in itself and an agency of evil. For if each human person is not seen in true character, man is not known as he is, and cannot then be served. Modern sociology will not recognize man as he is, yet seeks to serve him. In this is modern sociology a contradiction and an evil thing. The modern sociologist too frequently loses sight of the individual person in the mass of men. We have all heard of the inability of certain minds, befuddled by detail, to envision a whole problem and work effectually towards its solution. We have heard this state of mind described as the inability “to see the forest for the trees.” But much worse is the inability, much more blind, much more havoc-working, which tries to handle some problem of forestation without recognizing the fact that a forest does actually consist of trees. If one does not see the forest for the trees, one does at least see trees, and trees are something solid and actual and valuable. But if one does not see the trees for the forest, one has no grasp of reality at all; for the forest without the trees is not a forest; it may be a mere dark smudge on the horizon to be interpreted as whim or baseless fancy may suggest. And out of such suggestion nothing of value, theoretical or practical, can ever emerge. So with humanity. It is admittedly an inadequate view which cannot see society for its members; but it is a much more inadequate view—indeed, a calamitous view—which cannot see individual men for society; which loses the persons of men in the mass of humanity. Yet it is currently the fashion among modern sociologists to speak much of society and of its rights and claims, and to speak little and think less of the individual persons who make up society. Let the student remember that, absolutely speaking, it is the individual man who is the more important, and the mass of men as such that is less important. It is the individual man who has the surpassing worth or dignity of substantial personality; society as such does not possess this dignity. The individual man does not exist for society; he exists for God and for the attainment of his own individual destiny. The institutions of society, nay society itself and its divisions, natural, civil, supernatural, exist for individual men. It is true, of course, that each individual man is called upon to make many sacrifices, a,nd to expend much energy, for the sake of the common weal. He is required to devote interest and effort to the p6ace, security, and progress of all mankind, and notably of his family, his immediate neighbors, and conationalists. But the sacrifice and the energy and the interest and the effort are not devoted to some shadowy and superhuman thing called society; these things are devoted by each worthy individual to the well-being of other individual men like himself. This is a most important thing for the sociologist to remember. If it be forgotten, there is danger—nay, there is certainty—that the dignity of the individual man will be obscured; men will be so many “cases” for the sociologist to consider; human beings will be viewed in group, and some groups (such as the afflicted, the destitute, or “the unfit”) will be regarded as of less value or dignity than other groups (say, the educated, the wealthy, the powerful). A short time ago an educated man, a professional man, and (we confess it in sorrow) a Catholic, remarked in a gathering of university men that a certain criminal then in detention, whose attorneys were offering the familiar plea of insanity in his defence, should be executed, whether sane or insane. “This man,” he said, while his auditors nodded approval, “committed a horrible murder. Sane or insane, he is useless to society. Why should he be allowed to live?” Speaker and hearers forgot the fundamental principle of human dignity. The criminal, foul murderer though he was, was a man, and inherent in him was the dignity which marks the person. He did not exist for society, or to be of use to society. Inasmuch as he was guilty of a capital offence, he deserved, if sane, to die. But he deserved to die because he had killed a fellow human being, because he placed in jeopardy the peace and security of other individual men, and distinctly not because he had offended “society.” The criminal had not offended society; he had offended God, had outraged his own rational nature, had violated the basic right of a fellowman, had made himself an evil example to others. Of course, it is convenient to speak of “society”; the term is a handy group-name for all individual men; but the point we stress is the danger of allowing this handy term to make a harmful change in our very concept of humanity. Against that danger we repeat a most emphatic warning. People at large are wholly misguided by the loose use of “society” as a group-name. They imagine that society is some sort of overshadowing and ominous thing, gigantesque, powerful, all-important. Or they enthrone “society” as a god, to be served by mere crawling creatures called individual men. They suffer much the same hallucination in the question of “the State” as contrasted with “the citizen.” These misguided views are not corrected by the modern sociologist; on the contrary. And thus does modern sociology do harm to human minds and human lives and human dignity, which, be it ever remembered, is the dignity of substantial personality in the individual image of God. Consider the following citation (made with slight adaptations) from a contemporary novel which has enjoyed great popularity. And remember as you read that doctrine of this kind is being constantly spread abroad by every agency of publicity, newspapers, romances, magazines, the theatre, and even by the scientistic journals of modern sociology and by sociological textbooks. “You ask me if I am not glad that Merton is dead. Look here, John, I’m not a sentimentalist. I don’t subscribe to this modern stuff about the sanctity of human life. The ancients were wiser. They didn’t consider any human life sacred but that which was valuable to the community, and when they considered it of greater benefit to the community that even such a life should be sacrificed, they didn’t hesitate; they promptly took it. Well, if the sentimentalists can find anything valuable or sacred in the life of such a cad as Merton—a seducer, a waster, a professional adulterer—I can’t. There are some men who should be shot on sight, it should be accounted justifiable homicide to do it, and Merton was one of that sort. TH not descend to the conventional hypocrisy of pretending that I have any regret that a life that was not only useless to society, but a positive menace, has been ended. And if you want to hear so, here you are: I’m glad that Merton is dead.” There is summed up in this short paragraph from a modern novel more false and harmful sociological doctrine than could be expressed and explained in many pages of prosy modern sociology. Apart from the fact that the modern sociologist—being evolutionistic—would have to emit many words to explain how, in the continuous unfolding of social perfection, the ancients could have wiser theories than the modems, the whole citation is right in line with the false and ruinous modern sociology. Human life is looked at in relation to “society” or “the community,” and its value is solely determined from that relation; the individual personal worth of a man is wholly forgotten, indeed it is derided; unchanging morality is sneered at as “sentimentalism” and “convention.” Of course, the sociologist, even of the modern sort, would insist that some process of law should be observed in bringing the evil Merton to his death; the sociologist would not, unless ultramodern, admit as justifiable homicide the shooting of a man, even though a roue or libertine, on sight. But for the rest, the modern sociologist would offer no objection to the inhuman theory of life and morality offered in the citation. And yet the modern sociologist offers his services to progress and the uplifting of humanity! We repeat: the root-principle of all sane sociology is the principle of human dignity. And the truth contained in this principle enters intimately and essentially into every social action. The principle is but the expression of what a man actually is. It merely states plain truth, plain fact. It maintains that man is God’s image, that man is a person, that his worth is incalculable, that his life and his honor and bodily and spiritual well-being are to be respected. The principle does not mean that a criminal is not to be punished. On the contrary, it insists that individual men have a right to the security which the criminal menaces or destroys, and that, in consequence, crime is to have due and proper punishment, even if it extend, in extreme cases, to the taking of the culprit’s life by public authority. But it does not lose sight, in view of extreme punishment, of the dignity of human life and nature, even that of the criminal who is executed. Our own Constitution is sane, and in line with the principle of human dignity, when it proscribes “cruel and inhuman punishments” for offenders, that is, such punishments as would tend to degrade them or make them bestial, and which would induce in others the opinion that a man may be handled as a beast or as goods and chattels. Incalculable harm is done by the explicit denial or implicit ignoring of the principle of human dignity. We might instance countless examples of such harm. A few will suffice: “sweating”; oppression of laborers; child labor, in mills or factories particularly; indecent conditions (unhygienic and immoral) for laborers; disregard for the virtue of others; carelessness about human life; birth control; divorce; abortion; sterilization of criminals or “the unfit”; lobbies against just and necessary social legislation; needless exploratory operations; the marketing of labor; inadequate wages; the treating of those afflicted mentally or physically as of less value than other men— these and many other social evils arise from the modern disregard for the principle of human dignity. One final word. We have insisted upon the importance of the individual human being as the image of God, endowed with glorious faculties, and set for high and lasting achievement. But our true doctrine is not to be warped into the ugly and ruinous social philosophy called Individualism, which seeks to free individual man from all restraints and responsibilities, to loosen the bonds of morality, to strike at the stability of family-life, which calls for great individual self-sacrifice and tireless individual devotion, and to make the State with its laws and agencies a servant of individual whim, caprice, and passion. We must keep steadily in mind the fact that man is the image of God; and we must keep in equally clear view the fact that man is an image, and not God Himself. Individualism would make of individual man a god to be served and pleasured, instead of a human creature who is bound to serve God.

Summary of the Article

In this Article we have defined person, and have offered a philosophical explanation of the definition. We have learned that the substantial personality of every human being invests him with a worth and value that is not to be calculated or expressed in cold terms of speech. We have seen that all sane sociology