College of Cardinals
Based on Wikipedia: College of Cardinals
The Pope-Makers
When a pope dies or resigns, the most exclusive voting body on Earth springs into action. Somewhere between one hundred and one hundred forty men—never more, often fewer—gather in absolute secrecy to choose the next leader of 1.4 billion Catholics. They cannot leave until white smoke rises from a chimney in Vatican City. No phones. No internet. No contact with the outside world.
These men are the cardinal electors, and together they form part of one of the oldest continuously operating institutions in human history: the College of Cardinals.
The word "cardinal" comes from the Latin cardō, meaning "hinge." It's a fitting etymology. Cardinals are the hinges upon which the entire governance of the Catholic Church swings—advising the pope during his reign, managing the church during the interregnum when no pope sits on the throne of Saint Peter, and ultimately selecting his successor.
From Roman Parish Priests to Prince-Makers
The College of Cardinals wasn't founded in some dramatic moment of ecclesiastical legislation. It evolved, slowly and organically, over nearly a thousand years.
In the earliest centuries of Christianity, Rome was simply one city among many in the sprawling church. Its bishop—later called the pope—led a local community served by priests and deacons assigned to specific parishes and charitable districts. These clergy were "hinged" to their particular churches, hence the term cardinal.
The first documented use of the term appears in the biography of Pope Stephen III, when the Roman Synod of 769 decreed that the pope should be elected from among the deacons and cardinal priests. This was revolutionary. For centuries before, secular rulers—particularly the Holy Roman Emperor—had wielded enormous influence over who became pope. Rome's aristocratic families fought bitterly for control of the papacy, sometimes with actual bloodshed.
The real transformation came in 1059, during what historians call the Gregorian Reform. A young German king named Henry IV had inherited the Holy Roman Empire at age six, leaving him powerless to interfere in church affairs. Reformers seized the moment. They declared that only the clergy of Rome—the cardinals—could elect the pope.
This was a seismic shift in medieval power dynamics. Imagine if, tomorrow, the United States Congress declared that only members of the Supreme Court could elect the president, and that no foreign government could have any say in the matter. The Investiture Controversy that followed this reform convulsed Europe for decades, as emperors and popes fought for control over who appointed bishops throughout Christendom.
Three Orders, One College
During the pontificate of Pope Stephen V in the early ninth century, the cardinals began organizing into three distinct ranks that persist to this day: cardinal bishops, cardinal priests, and cardinal deacons.
Cardinal deacons trace their theological lineage to the seven deacons ordained in the Acts of the Apostles—the original administrators of the early church's charitable works. Cardinal priests emerged from the clergy assigned to Rome's titular churches. Cardinal bishops held the dioceses surrounding Rome, called the suburbicarian sees.
For most of history, these distinctions carried real weight. Cardinal bishops outranked cardinal priests, who outranked cardinal deacons. Today, the ranks are largely ceremonial, though they still determine certain precedence in Vatican ceremonies and—crucially—who can become Dean of the College of Cardinals, essentially the chairman of this august body.
The dean and vice-dean are elected by and from the cardinal bishops, though the pope must confirm the election. Despite the lofty title, the dean has no real authority over his fellow cardinals. He is, in the Latin phrase, merely primus inter pares—first among equals. He presides over meetings and delegates administrative tasks, but cannot command.
The Numbers Game
How many cardinals should there be? This question has consumed popes, councils, and the cardinals themselves for a millennium.
From the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries, the college never exceeded thirty members—even though there were more than thirty parishes and diaconal districts that could theoretically have cardinal holders. Pope John XXII formalized this restraint in the early fourteenth century, capping the college at twenty.
But popes quickly discovered that creating new cardinals was tremendously useful. Need to raise money for a war or a building project? Create cardinals from wealthy families. Want to cement an alliance with the King of France? Elevate some French bishops. Worried that the existing cardinals are growing too independent? Flood the college with loyalists to dilute their power.
The cardinals fought back. The conclave of 1352 extracted a promise—called a capitulation—that no new cardinals would be created until the college dropped to sixteen members. Pope Innocent VI promptly declared the capitulation invalid the following year.
This tug-of-war continued for centuries. The Council of Basel in the 1430s tried to limit the college to twenty-four. Various papal conclaves extracted similar promises. Pope Benedict XII, notably stubborn, created only six new cardinals during his entire pontificate, all in a single batch in 1338.
Then came Pope Leo X in 1517. In one dramatic consistory, he created thirty-one new cardinals at once, bringing the total to sixty-five and guaranteeing himself a supportive majority. The dam had broken. Pope Paul IV pushed the number to seventy. Pope Sixtus V, in 1586, formally set the limit at seventy—fourteen deacons, fifty priests, and six bishops.
That limit held for nearly four hundred years.
The Modern Expansion
Pope John XXIII—the beloved reformer who convened the Second Vatican Council—shattered the seventy-cardinal ceiling in 1961, raising the number to eighty-eight. His successor Paul VI kept expanding, reaching one hundred thirty-four by 1969.
But Paul VI introduced a crucial innovation in 1970 that fundamentally changed how we count cardinals. He decreed that cardinals over eighty years old could no longer vote in papal conclaves. Suddenly, the total size of the college mattered less than the number of electors—cardinals young enough to vote.
In 1975, Paul VI set the maximum number of cardinal electors at one hundred twenty. This remains the official limit today.
It is also a limit that nearly every subsequent pope has ignored.
Pope John Paul II, despite reiterating the one hundred twenty maximum in 1996, exceeded it in four of his nine consistories. At points he had as many as one hundred thirty-five electors. Pope Benedict XVI reached one hundred twenty-five. Pope Francis has exceeded the limit in all ten of his consistories, peaking at one hundred forty electors in December 2024.
Why set a limit if you're going to ignore it? The answer lies in the peculiar nature of papal power. A pope can do almost anything—except bind his successor. Each pope inherits the rules his predecessor established, then bends or breaks them as he sees fit. The one hundred twenty limit is less a law and more a polite suggestion that popes routinely decline.
The Internationalization of the College
For most of history, the College of Cardinals was overwhelmingly Italian. This made sense when cardinals were literally the parish priests of Rome. But as the papacy became a global institution, the composition of the college gradually shifted.
By the end of the fourteenth century, the practice of having solely Italian cardinals had ceased. French, Spanish, German, and eventually cardinals from every continent joined the ranks. Today, the college represents the global reach of Catholicism—Latin Americans, Africans, Asians, and Europeans all wear the red hat.
This internationalization has profound implications for papal elections. A cardinal from the Philippines and a cardinal from Poland may have very different views on what the church needs. The conclave becomes a kind of global negotiation, conducted in secret, with the fate of the world's largest religious institution hanging in the balance.
The Rules of the Red Hat
Who can become a cardinal? The 1917 Code of Canon Law established that only priests or bishops could be elevated. This seems obvious today, but for centuries some cardinals held only minor orders—meaning they weren't even priests. They were clergy in a technical sense, but had never celebrated Mass or heard confessions.
Pope John XXIII went further in 1962, decreeing that all cardinals should be bishops. He personally consecrated the twelve cardinal members who weren't yet bishops. This ended the historical oddity of cardinal deacons who weren't actually ordained as deacons in the sacramental sense—they held a rank that had become purely honorific.
The rules continue to evolve. In 2018, Pope Francis opened the rank of cardinal bishop to anyone of his choosing, not just those assigned to the traditional suburbicarian dioceses around Rome. In 2019, he limited the dean's tenure to five-year terms, renewable by the pope—ending what had been a lifetime appointment.
Resignation and Removal
Once you become a cardinal, you remain a cardinal for life. The red hat, once placed on your head, can almost never be removed.
Almost.
Between 1791 and 2018, only one cardinal was removed from the college: Étienne Charles de Loménie de Brienne, stripped of his rank in 1791. Five others resigned: Tommaso Antici in 1798, Marino Carafa di Belvedere in 1807, Carlo Odescalchi in 1838, Louis Billot in 1927, and Theodore Edgar McCarrick in 2018.
McCarrick's case made global headlines. The American cardinal resigned amid allegations of sexual abuse spanning decades—a reminder that even the most exalted positions in the church offer no immunity from accountability, at least in the modern era.
What Do Cardinals Actually Do?
Between papal elections, what occupies a cardinal's time? The answer depends on whether we're discussing formal functions or practical reality.
Formally, cardinals advise the pope when he summons them to an ordinary consistory—a term borrowed from the council that advised Roman emperors. They attend various ceremonies and play formal roles in processes like canonization, when the church declares someone a saint.
Practically, most cardinals hold demanding jobs. The Vatican's administrative apparatus—called the Roman Curia—is largely run by cardinals. The Secretary of State, essentially the pope's prime minister, is virtually always a cardinal. The Camerlengo, who manages the Vatican during a papal vacancy, must be a cardinal. Many cardinals serve as the archbishops of major cities—New York, Paris, Manila, São Paulo—each a demanding role in itself.
The Sede Vacante
When a pope dies or resigns, the church enters what's called the sede vacante—literally, "the seat is vacant." During this interregnum, the College of Cardinals assumes limited governance of the church.
The operative word is limited. The 1996 apostolic constitution Universi Dominici gregis and the Fundamental Law of Vatican City State tightly constrain what the cardinals can do. They can handle urgent matters and prepare for the conclave, but they cannot make major decisions or policy changes. The church essentially holds its breath, waiting for white smoke.
The conclave itself—from the Latin cum clave, meaning "with a key"—is conducted under conditions of absolute secrecy. Cardinals are locked inside the Sistine Chapel. They take oaths of confidentiality. They vote by secret ballot, burning the ballots after each round. Black smoke means no pope has been elected. White smoke means the world has a new Holy Father.
Only cardinals under eighty at the moment the previous pope's reign ends may vote. This age limit, established in 1970 and tweaked slightly in 1996, was designed to prevent manipulation. Without it, someone could delay a conclave until a favored cardinal turned eighty and lost his vote, or rush one before an opponent aged out.
The Last Non-Cardinal Pope
Can someone who isn't a cardinal become pope? Technically, yes. Canon law sets the qualifications for being appointed a bishop quite broadly: a person of faith and good reputation, at least thirty-five years old, with appropriate education and five years' experience as a priest. The conclave rules even specify procedures should the cardinals elect someone not yet a bishop or someone living outside Vatican City.
In practice, it has been over six hundred years since a non-cardinal became pope. Urban VI, elected in 1389, was the last. Every pope since has been chosen from within the College of Cardinals.
This creates a fascinating closed loop. The pope appoints all the cardinals. The cardinals elect the pope. The new pope then appoints more cardinals, shaping the electorate for his eventual successor. It's a system designed for continuity—and critics would say, for institutional conservatism.
A Conclave in Practice
When Pope Benedict XVI resigned in February 2013—the first papal resignation in nearly six hundred years—one hundred seventeen cardinals were eligible to vote. One hundred fifteen actually participated. Julius Riyadi Darmaatmadja of Indonesia declined for health reasons. Keith O'Brien of Scotland withdrew following allegations of sexual misconduct.
The cardinals gathered, deliberated in secret, and elected Jorge Mario Bergoglio of Argentina, who took the name Francis. He was the first pope from the Americas, the first Jesuit pope, and the first to choose the name Francis—after Saint Francis of Assisi, the medieval saint who embraced poverty and preached to birds.
As of late 2024, Pope Francis has created more cardinals than any of his recent predecessors, dramatically reshaping the college that will one day elect his successor. With one hundred forty electors at its peak, his college is the largest in history. It is also the most geographically diverse, with cardinals from countries that have never before had a voice in choosing the pope.
The Hinge of History
The College of Cardinals has survived schisms, reformations, revolutions, and world wars. It has adapted from a group of Roman parish priests to a global electoral college. It has weathered popes who tried to pack it with loyalists and popes who barely created any new members at all.
Through it all, the college has maintained its essential function: serving as the hinge upon which the Catholic Church turns. When one pope's reign ends, the cardinals ensure that another begins. They are, in the most literal sense, the pope-makers—the small group of men who, in secret conclave, shape the spiritual lives of over a billion believers.
The next time white smoke rises from the Sistine Chapel chimney, remember that what you're witnessing is the culmination of a process that has been refined over a millennium. The men who cast those secret ballots are the inheritors of a tradition stretching back to the clergy of ancient Rome—still serving, after all these centuries, as the hinges of the church.