Every man has the right to a good reputation, to the good opinion that is commonly held of him, for no one is to be regarded as evil until it is proved that he actually is evil. Hence, the unjust defamation of the neighbor constitutes a sin against strict justice.
Judgment is the affirmation or negation of a thing (e.g., that something is good or it is not). A judgment may be true or false, depending on whether or not it is in agreement with the objective truth; true or probable, as stated or denied with certainty or only with probability; prudent or reckless, as issued with sufficient or insufficient foundation.
Taking into account these notions, we will draw the following conclusions regarding unfounded suspicions and reckless judgments.
A reckless suspicion exists when without sufficient foundation we begin to doubt our neighbor’s conduct or intentions, although without definitely affirming it.
It is evidently a sin against justice, by the strict right of the neighbor to his own reputation until proven otherwise. But because not having firm assent, the simple suspicion does not seriously injure the neighbor, and may be somehow excused either by some of the neighbor’s actions or by our own human weakness that makes us so prone to these suspicions.
But it could be serious in certain circumstances, for example, if the reckless suspicion (and a fortiori the opinion) regards a very serious and unaccustomed sin or a person of recognized virtue. In these cases there is mortal sin in the simple suspicion deliberately admitted and maintained, by the serious injury that is done to the neighbor.
St. Thomas explains the causes of these reckless suspicions: “As Cicero says, suspicion denotes evil thinking based on slight indications, and this is due to three causes. First, from a man being evil in himself, and from this very fact, as though conscious of his own wickedness, he is prone to think evil of others, according to Ecclesiastes 10:3, ‘The fool when he walketh in the way, whereas he himself is a fool, esteemeth all men fools.’ Secondly, this is due to a man being ill-disposed towards another: for when a man hates or despises another, or is angry with or envious of him, he is led by slight indications to think evil of him, because everyone easily believes what he desires. Thirdly, this is due to long experience: wherefore the Philosopher says that ‘old people are very suspicious, for they have often experienced the faults of others.’ The first two causes of suspicion evidently connote perversity of the affections, while the third diminishes the nature of suspicion, in as much as experience leads to certainty which is contrary to the nature of suspicion. Consequently suspicion denotes a certain amount of vice, and the further it goes, the more vicious it is” (II-II, q.60, a.3).
A rash judgment is the firm assent of the mind (not a simple doubt, suspicion or opinion), without sufficient foundation, about our neighbor’s sin or evil intentions.
It is a grave sin against justice, on account of the grave injury that it inflicts upon our neighbor, who has a strict right to preserve his reputation, even in our internal thoughts, until proof exists to the contrary. But it admits parvity of matter, and so, for example, it would be a venial sin to judge recklessly that the neighbor is lying so as to appear better than he is. The greater or lesser seriousness of a reckless judgment depends not only on the quality of the sin or crime that is recklessly judged, but also on the greater or lesser disproportion between the judgment and the reasons or grounds for its issuance.
Holy Scripture severely forbids such reckless judgments, and Christ himself warns us that we will be measured to the same extent as we measure others: “Judge not, that you may not be judged, for with what judgment you judge, you shall be judged: and with what measure you mete, it shall be measured to you again, and why seest thou the mote that is in thy brother’s eye; and seest not the beam that is in thy own eye?” (Mt. 7:1-3).
“Judgment without mercy to him that hath not done mercy. And mercy exalteth itself above judgment” (Jas. 2:13). These words of the Apostle St. James resolve by themselves the objection that is often opposed to the sound Christian advice to always interpret in a good sense the intentions of the neighbor until the contrary is certain. It is true that, in doing so always, we risk being wrong many times. But this mistake will be to our greatest benefit, because, at the time of our own final judgment, God will use with us the same merciful procedure that we have used with our neighbor.
There is, moreover, another reason, which St. Thomas explains admirably: “He who interprets doubtful matters for the best, may happen to be deceived more often than not; yet it is better to err frequently through thinking well of a wicked man, than to err less frequently through having an evil opinion of a good man, because in the latter case an injury is inflicted, but not in the former” (II-II, q.60, a.4, ad 1).
As there is no official teaching of the Church on this matter, we must rely on the application of general moral principles to the concrete action of boxing.
A dictionary defines boxing as “a combat sport in which two people, usually wearing some kind of protective equipment, throw punches at each other for a predetermined amount of time in a boxing ring.” Another dictionary defines it as “a giving and parrying of blows with no intention of striking the opponent severely,” but it must be agreed that that is not a realistic definition of the boxing matches we may usually see on TV.
Both definitions agree that it is a combat sport, in which blows are exchanged, but distinctions must be made taking into account the intention of the fighters, their goal, and the concrete circumstances surrounding the exchange of blows. In other words, a distinction must be made between what we may call amateur and professional boxing.
In principle, among theologians there seems to be no major moral objection to amateur boxing. Its defenders argue that it is a sport that offers good opportunity for physical development and strength, for growth in confidence and discipline, for character-building and good sportsmanship. They even point out that these advantages of the sport are such that St. Paul himself, talking about the self-discipline to be exercised in our Christian life (I Cor. 9:25-27), makes the analogy with boxing.
As the match takes place in supervised conditions and usually protective gear is used, the possibility of physical damage is limited. Moreover, the skills learned can be also used outside the ring in cases of genuine self-defense or defending an innocent party.
Nonetheless, there are also theologians who point out that, fallen human nature being what it is, even in the most benign of the various forms of amateur pugilism may become morally reprehensible because the fighters, although not delivering the blows with the same intent nor the same power as in professional boxing, may be still carried away by the desire to win and thus inflict immoderate physical damage to the adversary.
The major moral problems arise in the case of professional boxing.
There are sports where there is often the possibility of physical injury. However, such damage is incidental to the game, accidental, not intended. If it is seen to be inflicted on purpose, it is penalized.
Professional boxing is a sport whose primary objective is to deprive the rival of the ability to fight, not symbolically (as in wrestling, for example, by immobilizing him on the ground), but by battering and damaging the opponent into helplessness, rendering him physically incapable of continuing the fight.
The danger of such injuries is such that the Vatican journal La Civiltà Cattolica called professional boxing a “legalized form of attempted murder,” noting that fighters often suffer long-term physical and psychological injuries.
Now, the Fifth Commandment prohibits the intentional infliction of direct physical damage on oneself or on another. As creatures, we do not have absolute dominion over our own bodies, and much less over the bodies of others. We are only stewards charged with the duty and privilege of reasonable administration over them. Absolute dominion belongs only to God.
A deliberate, intended injury to the human body is morally permissible only with a reasonable cause or a compensating good – for example, knocking out a drowning man to be able to save him, or cutting off a limb to save a life. But in professional boxing, there is no such reasonable cause or compensating good, as the physical damage suffered by both fighters is not proportionate to the good to be attained by one of them—fame, wealth, pride in his physical superiority.
A recent scholar has also stressed the societal effects of professional boxing—it glamorizes violence, encourages the concept of becoming rich and famous through physical aggression, and is accompanied by a growing commercialization that favors the brutalization of all combat sports.
It also can have deleterious effects on us, the spectators. It is spiritually dangerous to drink such spectacles in. An ancient pagan philosopher, Seneca, had already warned that when we make sport of maiming and killing human beings, we render ourselves less humane. St. Thomas knew nothing of professional boxing, but with an unerring knowledge of human nature, he pointed out that taking pleasure in the unnecessary sufferings of another man is barbaric.
In his Confessions, St. Augustine speaks of a beloved friend, Alypius, who had developed an incredible passion for the gladiatorial shows, pointing out both the strong appeal of viewing violence and our often ineffectual struggle to resist it. St. Augustine describes the gladiatorial games as “a frenzy of extravagant excess,” with crowds cheering as humans are hurt. “As he saw that blood, he drank in savageness at the same time.” And far from a momentary or fleeting delight, when Alypius emerged from the amphitheater he was “no longer the man who entered there… He took away with him the madness he had found there.” Certainly, modern professional boxing does not go to those extremes of bloodshed. However, it still taps into some primeval passion deeply buried in our fallen nature, a passion that can be nonetheless overcome with God’s grace, as Alypius did, thus later becoming the saint bishop of Thagaste.