In light of the ongoing debate over torture, we sent a few serious interrogatories to some of NRO’s ethical experts: Assuming your war is a just one, and countless lives hang in the balance, is “justice” a flexible concept? What should be the ground rules for a civilized society? Can there be ground rules?

GERARD V. BRADLEY

The requirements of justice really do vary with the severity of the circumstances facing the decision maker, so much so that one may — justly — cause the death of many to save an even greater number. But there are some things that are never morally justifiable, no matter what the foreseeable consequences might be. I think that some acts which today are called “torture” fall into this category, but that others said to be “torture” do not. In other words: I think that “torture” is always wrong; it is not to be done, no matter what. But I also think that some acts commonly labeled “torture” are not.

Let me explain, starting with the claim about things that are not to be done, no matter what the consequences. I think we all agree on this basic point, even if we disagree about whether torture (or some form of “torture”) is one of these things. Certainly we say that there are some exceptionless moral norms, even in warfare. Targeting innocent women and children for death is one example. Has anyone on either side of the torture debate proposed that we put a gun to the head of some al-Qaeda operative’s wife or child, in order to extract a confession from him? I do not recall any such proposal.

One might respond by saying that the torture question is different because we propose in that case to do unusual things to the operative himself, to someone who is not an innocent bystander. But has anyone seriously proposed that there are no moral limits on what might be done even to a combatant? Would we say that sodomizing an al-Qaeda terrorist is morally permissible in order to obtain information about a ticking bomb? And then quartering the guy, if the sodomy does not make him talk? I say that we should rule out these and other acts because they are immoral, no matter what may follow from our moral restraint.

It is true that American citizens have a moral right to the protection of their lives by our government. But no one has a moral right that anyone else do something which is immoral. And this is why the very real prospect of “saving American lives” is not a debate-stopper in this context.

Now to the first point. Let’s take off the table any option that would be wrong in itself. The question of justice is mainly the question of fairness. And the fairness question is mainly about considering all the consequences of our acting in this way or that or choosing to do nothing at all. Figuring out what is fair in this way calls for very clear-headed, and even cold-hearted prudential judgment. By “cold-hearted” I mean that we must not let sentiment or queasiness deter us from doing what should be done. So, if bin Laden is, right this minute, attending a wedding feast in Peshwar, and the only way to get him is to launch a missile that will kill everyone present, we should probably do so. We would not be targeting the innocent guests. We would instead be accepting their certain deaths as side effects of targeting bin Laden. If we knew that an innocent person had been saddled with a suicide belt to be remotely detonated in a crowded bazaar, it would be right to shoot that human mule dead in order to save those in the bazaar.

— Gerard V. Bradley is a professor of law at the University of Notre Dame.

E. CHRISTIAN BRUGGER

The rule of law rightfully tolerates actions in times of national crisis that would not otherwise be morally justified (e.g., curfews, quarantines, incarcerations, coercive force, etc.). The question then is whether severe interrogation measures are ever justified in times of crisis, such as during wartime. Unfortunately, some think all severe measures are tantamount to torture; and the term “torture” is so loaded with opprobrium that even to ask the question can place one on the losing side of the argument. But given our day’s challenges, the question has to be taken seriously.

The 1984 U.N. Convention against Torture defines torture as “any act by which severe pain or suffering, whether physical or mental, is intentionally inflicted on a person for such purposes as obtaining from him or a third person information or a confession”; the Convention says torture is “cruel,” “inhuman,” and “degrading”; and signatories are bound to prohibit its use.

The definition is too broad for my liking. Although I think some forms of severe pain and suffering are always wrong to inflict on prisoners, the infliction of pain per se is not wrong, since pain in itself is not an evil (nor pleasure a good). So under, say, a “ticking time-bomb” scenario, pain threatened or inflicted as an incentive to give information that is unjust to withhold can, it seems to me, be justified.

Where do we draw the line? In a brief piece like this, I can only gesture towards an answer. If the infliction of severe pain can be administered without causing physical or psychological harm to the prisoner, then its intentional infliction need not always be excluded. (I say “if.”) Prohibited, then, would be all forms of physical mutilation, branding, severe electric shocks, breaking of bones, and the like. Also excluded would be types of mental torment that cause lasting psychic damage, such as mock executions or prolonged deprivation of sleep combined with drugs to cause mental disintegration. Similarly excluded should be all forms of morally or religiously degrading procedures such as the subjecting of prisoners to mock solicitations from prostitutes, forcing them to stand in sexually degrading positions, desecrating their holy books, or blasting loud music or sermons with blasphemous messages. These are intentional violations of basic human goods, and thus are always wrong.

A number of conditions need to be met before such pain legitimately can be inflicted: The information withheld must concern the threat of grave and lasting harm to the community; we must have reasonable certitude that the prisoner possesses the information sought; non-severe means of interrogation must be found to be ineffective; and the pain or discomfort cannot be inflicted vicariously to prompt somebody else to spill the beans (this would be unfair to the innocent party). If these conditions are met, then it seems to me that the administering of severe transitory discomfort in times of national crisis can be legitimate.

– E. Christian Brugger teaches moral theology at Saint John Vianney Theological Seminary in Denver; he is a senior fellow at both the Culture of Life Foundation and the Westchester Institute for Ethics and the Human Person.

CHRISTOPHER J. EBERLE

Two assumptions should shape the manner in which a civilized society interrogates those, like Khalid Sheikh Mohammed (KSM), who effectively plan to attack and destroy innocent human beings.

First, human beings have a worth, or dignity, that we cannot do anything to alienate: KSM, as with any and every human being, possesses a (God-given) dignity that prohibits us from taking extreme measures to protect those he targets. Even if we can effectively protect innocent human beings only by subjecting KSM to extreme (Jack Bauer–style) physical damage, we should not do so. Second, a person’s actions can make it permissible for us to treat that person in ways that would otherwise be morally forbidden. The fact that KSM initiated a plan to destroy the World Trade Center explains why the U.S. government was morally permitted to capture, incarcerate, and interrogate him.

How does this second assumption shape the manner in which we may interrogate KSM? Suppose that, as was apparently the case, KSM had initiated further plans that would have killed a large but indeterminate number of innocents. Suppose again that KSM had information about those future attacks that, if obtained, would have allowed us to prevent them. But suppose that, having exhausted more pacific means, we could not acquire that information without waterboarding KSM. In that case, fairness in distributing harms would permit us to waterboard KSM. Given that he had forced us to choose between his well-being and the well-being of many innocents, we could “distribute” the harm to him, not them.

This non-consequentialist rationale for the permissibility of certain types of coercive interrogation attempts to balance two goods that all too easily come apart — human dignity and individual responsibility. It doesn’t justify coercing anyone . . . not even anyone who has but will not divulge relevant information. It requires that we have a great deal of reliable information about those whom we are permitted to coerce. It is consistent with strict prohibitions on extreme forms of Jack Bauer–style coercion. But it does permit us to subject some of our fellow human beings to certain sorts of “hard treatment.”

– Christopher J. Eberle is associate professor of philosophy at the United States Naval Academy. The views expressed here are his own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the United States Naval Academy.

PATRICK LEE

Torture is intrinsically immoral. But it must be rightly defined. As a human act, torture can be defined only by the direct object of the choice. It is intentionally mutilating someone or intentionally damaging a person’s psychosomatic integrity (attempting to reduce this person to a subhuman, disintegrated state) for the sake of information, deterrence, punishment, or sadistic pleasure.

By contrast, intentionally causing pain in order to provide the detainee with a motive to deliver information is not intrinsically immoral. Unlike bodily or psychosomatic integrity (which are violated in real torture), pain is not the deprivation of a basic human good. Indeed, pain often is part of the proper functioning of a human being as a sentient living being (which is not to say that delighting in pain for its own sake, sadism, is morally right).

It is sometimes unclear whether this or that act is torture. It is obvious that the Bush administration tried to ensure that torture would not be condoned or encouraged. Bush-administration officials wrestled with where to draw the line between what is and is not torture. They may not have drawn the line correctly — reasonable people can disagree about that — but that is quite different from condoning torture.

Liberals have for decades not only denied that there are moral absolutes (specific, exceptionless moral norms) but also denied even the existence of objective moral truth — and have labeled defenders of such moral truths “right-wing extremists.” Have they now seen the light? If so, then perhaps we can now discuss not only why torture is wrong, but also the moral truth regarding intentionally killing unborn human beings, denying unborn human beings equal protection under the law, funding research that involves deliberately dismembering some human beings for the benefit of others, and attempting to coerce health-care workers to violate their consciences.

Torture is wrong — but if, and only if, every human being possesses a profound and inherent personal dignity.

– Patrick Lee is John N. and Jamie D. McAleer professor of bioethics and director of the Institute for Bioethics at the Franciscan University of Steubenville.

JOSEPH LOCONTE

When U.S. Navy snipers determined that an American captain held hostage by Somali pirates was in “imminent danger” of execution, they did not agonize over their moral obligations. They shot dead three of the hostage-takers, one bullet for each man.

Even liberals who publicly scorn the idea of religious absolutes want to live in a world with universal truths, including the proposition that torture is always and everywhere a moral evil. Even those who reject the Christian concept of human nature appeal to a view of personhood that draws its strength from biblical ideals. The debate over U.S. interrogation techniques on captured terrorists requires a mix of prudence and religious principle.

We face a uniquely threatening enemy, not unlike that described by C. S. Lewis in Perelandra, in which the protagonist, Ransom, confronts the embodiment of evil: “The ruins of personality now survived in it only as weapons at the disposal of a furious self-exiled negation.” Terrorists who plot the annihilation of thousands, even millions of civilians — without a twinge of conscience — do not lose their status as human beings created in God’s image. But that fact alone doesn’t define our obligations toward them, or help us check their horrific negation of human dignity.

The United States defends its democratic ideals by upholding its ban on torture. Another challenge awaits American ideals, however, if the government fails to protect its citizens from an act of nuclear terrorism that could have been prevented. In this “ticking bomb” scenario — when there is a clear case of “imminent danger” — the bright line between the terrorist mastermind at large and his co-conspirator in Guantánamo Bay begins to fade. In this rare case we find a transcendent cause — the prevention of a holocaust — which will not yield to absolutist claims about the rules of interrogation.

– Joseph Loconte is a senior research fellow at the King’s College in New York City and the editor of The End of Illusions: Religious Leaders Confront Hitler’s Gathering Storm.