A Brief Talk on Music, Morals, and Culture

Among all the fine arts, music is perhaps the most evocative, the most beloved, and yet the most mysterious. The philosophical traditions of the West and East alike have commented on the power of music and its relation to culture, education, and morals. There tends to be two extremes: first, that music provides merely passing, recreational pleasure and has no educational, formative, or moral impact. On the opposite side, that music has a direct causal relation with the development of cultural and individual values and morals. St. Thomas formulated the golden mean between these two positions in his characteristically pithy manner: music does not cause virtue or vice but disposes one for either by being an imitation of the human passions.[1] Nevertheless, the twentieth-century Thomist Josef Pieper could assert without hesitation the existence of an “intimate relationship between the music made and listened to in a society on the one hand, and the inner existential condition of such a society on the other.”[2] I would like to flesh out Pieper’s proposition regarding this close relationship, especially by examining how music imitates the passions, the Thomistic understanding of the relationship between art and morality, and finally, the way music reflects and shapes the culture in which it arises.

St. Thomas bases his understanding of music principally on Aristotle.[3] Aristotle in his Poetics states that music imitates the passions (1340a 19), and in the Politics he notes that music can lead to an emotional catharsis in a way similar to the literary arts (790–791). In the same work, he lists three purposes of music: 1) moral betterment or education; 2) cultivated leisure or amusement; and 3) practical wisdom that is liberal and noble (1338a, 10–33; 1340a, 12–14). Jacques Maritain, another Thomist, noted that the exact meaning of art imitating nature, and in the case of music, the passions, is extremely difficult to specify;[4] nevertheless, it seems to mean communicating the essence of something in a distilled manner. The Thomist John Oesterle adds, “Art, in imitating nature, also perfects nature; it adds an intelligibility and beauty not found in nature as such.”[5] Pieper draws our attention to how man is dynamic, growing, how he is always standing in relation to the Good, pursuing it in truth and in error. Life is a journey, and the Good is our goal, and insofar as we come closer to the Good or are hindered in our pursuit of it, our passions are stirred in different ways. Music can suggest something of this great odyssey of life.[6] Quoting Schopenhauer, who was certainly not a Thomist but in this case accurately summarized the Western tradition, Pieper says, music “tells of weal and woe,” of our triumphs and tragedies.[7] The rise and fall of melody, the alternation of consonance and dissonance in harmony, the accelerating and calming of the rhythm, all of these suggest the movement of passion: from its inception, to its fevered heights, and finally, to its cathartic release.[8]

But what does St. Thomas say about the relationship between art and morality? First, St. Thomas argues a sharp distinction between the relevant virtues at play in these two areas: art is governed by the virtue of art, which is right reason employed in the making of things, and morality is governed by prudence, right reason in the doing of things (Summa Theologiae, 1a2ae.57.3).[9] St. Thomas says, “The good of [the works of art, whether useful or the fine arts] depends, not upon the disposition of the maker’s appetite, but on the worth of the very work done.” A knife is a good knife if it cuts well; a painting is a good painting if it is well executed. These have nothing to do with the morality of the artist or the subject matter of the art per se. Nevertheless, Aquinas continues, “In order that a man may make good use of the art he has, he needs a good will, which is perfected by moral virtue” (ibid., ad 2). He says prudence is necessary for a good life but not for good art: “Art is necessary, not that the artist may lead a good life, but so that he may produce a good and lasting work of art. Prudence is necessary, not merely that a man may become good, but so that he may lead a good life” (1a2ae.57.5 ad 1). And as for those artistic works that can be put to good or evil use, St. Thomas argues: if something is in the majority of cases put to evil use, it should be removed by the State, for art is subordinated to the common good (2a2ae.169.2 ad 4).

If art and morality stand in two completely different spheres, why do they seem so closely linked in our daily experience? St. Thomas gives us the key: “No man can live without pleasure. Therefore a man deprived of the pleasures of the spirit goes over to the pleasures of the flesh” (2a2ae. 35.4 ad 2). Man needs recreation and pleasure to renew his strength after working. Where shall he get this pleasure? Father Benedict Ashley, also a noted Thomist, responds,

The contemplative activity of man is the goal of his life, but it must be moral. This means that we can take a true pleasure in contemplation only if what we contemplate is true—that is, God, or something which God has made as he intended it to be…. Because of this, a work of fine art ought to make us delight in what is true, noble, courageous, hopeful, pure, charitable, so that we may become like these things.[10]

Fr. Ashley also reminds us that “we are not made evil simply by an occasional meeting with someone or something evil. But when this association is repeated, then the disposition to evil is produced in us.”[11] The same applies to the disposition for the good. Father Chad Ripperger explains in depth how this occurs. Because music “has the ability to affect the appetites, it has the ability to corrupt the virtues of temperance and fortitude.”[12] This is the Thomistic doctrine, for as Aquinas says, quoting Aristotle, “Every man judges of what is good according to his good or evil interior dispositions.”[13] When we expose ourselves habitually to certain types of art, these in turn create the habit of stirring certain passions, which we take pleasure in, and these habits affect how we judge matters. We are now in the position to see the relation between music and the shaping of a culture.

“Let me make the songs of the nation, and I care not who makes its laws.”[14] Who can deny the moral effects of music on culture? Every year, high school faculty worry about the growing excesses of lewd dancing during prom nights; entire festivals and cultural events are dedicated to music and vice, such as Lollapalooza, Coachella, etc.; and most tellingly, there is no nightclub to be found where the dance music consists of the minuets and gigues of Bach, Handel, Haydn, or Mozart. Yet the same heavily rhythmic (and formulaic) music is common to all of the above. Pieper observes piercingly,

If we now look at our society, what facts do we observe? … We observe how much the most trivial and “light” music, the “happy sound”, has become the most common and pervasive phenomenon…. The “happy sound” as well as the numbing beat, claim legitimacy as “entertainment”, as means, that is, of satisfying, without success, the boredom and existential void that … have become a common and pervasive phenomenon.[15]

And he said this sixty years ago! We should not be surprised that our culture is simultaneously dominated by the cheap, consumeristic noise known as “pop music” and the greatest materialism perhaps the world has ever known. It is no wonder that the younger generations who are nourished by the emptiness of today’s “art” are also starving for a purpose-filled and grander vision of life.

And yet Pieper adds, “There still exists … the music of Johann Sebastian Bach!”[16] The task falls upon us: to fill our lives with nobility; to make friends with Bach, Palestrina, and Mozart, for these are our true friends, who through their music give us a glimpse of the contemplation of heaven. They fill us with noble sentiments and evoke passions that are primed for virtue and heroic acts. Our life should be one steady melody of love to God, contemplating Him now hidden and then face to face. Benedict Ashley said that even when the virtuous man grows weary of contemplation because of his frail human nature,

he does not wish utterly to put it aside. It is here that the work of fine art is so great a gift…. It recreates us because it gives the pleasure of looking at something beautiful … and yet it is itself a continuation of contemplation. Such recreation is inspirational, since it both rests us and elevates our soul.[17]

Why should we settle for anything less than the highest and most beautiful art we have here below if we are made to contemplate eternally the infinite Source of all beauty?

Footnotes:

1. Basil Nortz, “The Moral Power of Music,” The Homiletic & Pastoral Review (April 2002): 17.

2. Josef Pieper, Only the Lover Sings, trans. Lothar Krauth (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), 48.

3. Aristotle’s views are summarized in Basil Cole, Music & Morals (New York: Alba House, 1993), 34–41.

4. Jacques Maritain, Art and Scholasticism, trans. J.F. Scanlan (North Stratford, NH: Ayer Company Publishers, 2002), 150–151, fn. 121.

5. John Oesterle, “Towards an Evaluation of Music,” The Angelus Online, 2.

6. Pieper, Only the Lover, 42–44.

7. Ibid., 42.

8. Cf. Marcus Berquist, “Good Music and Bad” (lecture, Thomas Aquinas College, October, 1991), 15–16.

9. Cf. also Maritain, Art and Scholasticism, 5–7.

10. Benedict Ashley, The Arts of Learning and Communication (Dubuque: The Priory Press, 1958), 275–276.

11. Ibid.

12. The full analysis is found in Chad Ripperger, Introduction to the Science of Mental Health, volume 3 (Lincoln, NE, 2005), 5–8.

13. Quoted by Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange, The Three Ages of the Interior Life, volume 1, trans. M. Timothea Doyle (Rockford, IL: TAN Books, 1989), 317, fn. 4.

14. Ashley, The Arts, 274.

15. Pieper, Only the Lover, 49.

16. Ibid., 50.

17. Ashley, The Arts, 281.