One of my best friends studied under a strictly orthodox professor at a prestigious Catholic university, and that scholar did not like America. He is well-known in Catholic intellectual circles for his critique of the American founding, which, he says, was flawed because it is rooted in secularism.
That is not enough to conclude that he dislikes America. A nation’s political arrangements will reflect its character, sure, but that isn’t the only component. But this professor rejects American society in many respects. He condemns the superficial way people relate to one another. He decries its music. He condemns our fast food, and it bothers him that we Americans have no room in our hearts for metaphysics.
I met this professor in person twice, and he is quite engaging and personable. His contempt for his motherland is nothing if not rational, although tinged with elitism. Indeed, I agree with many aspects of his critique. Most American popular culture is vulgar garbage. Far too many of our fellow citizens revere rootlessness, and I certainly would not defend what passes for food on many dinner tables.
But where the professor’s critique breaks down is his choice of Italy as an exemplary nation. Now, I love Italy, as it happens. I’ve been there a couple of times (our honeymoon was in Rome), and my wife and I could easily spend several months happily touring and eating our way around the peninsula. I show my kids books with Italian art, and often I cook Italian food.
Yet to anyone looking with Catholic eyes, Italy has some serious problems as well. Italy maintains a deeply Catholic culture, but it is dying. I don’t mean that it is changing into something else. I mean it’s literally dying: the Italian birthrate is 1.2 children per adult woman during her life. Other social indicators are better than the States — their abortion rate is very low, as is the divorce rate (which reflects traditional attitudes toward marriage, true, but also widespread acceptance of extramarital sex and cohabitation.) Italy has tons of priests, and more Italians go to church than in any other European country, save perhaps Ireland.
Yet it is the birthrate that is the most telling statistic. It shows that, far from being the generous and people-oriented people the professor would like them to be, Italians are deeply selfish, content to wallow in the vita bella without perpetuating it. They care about their cultural riches the same way the prodigal son cared about his father’s wealth: as a source of stimulation and amusement, not something to be protected and nourished.
So it would seem that the professor, while ostensibly approaching the matter from a Catholic perspective, has very little to stand on here. America — largely Protestant, and officially secular — has a higher level of religious committment than Catholic Italy, which teaches religion in state-run classrooms. The source of his antipathy must lie elsewhere.
But it is not for me to probe his psyche. Rather, I have to ask: if you’re that deeply dissatisfied with the U.S., and you think another country is a utopia, why not move? He has taught in Italy before, and speaks fluent Italian. If being in Italy is good for your soul, and America is hazardous for your spiritual health, well then, isn’t the choice obvious?
Personally, I don’t think I would want to leave America even if I agreed with the professor’s critique. If you think your nation has gone astray, you ought to love her the same way you might love an alcoholic mother: with sadness, to be sure, but always with prayers and actions directed at reforming her character.