Emotions and cruelty were certainly factors in individual cases of decisions to torture someone in the later Middle Ages--not so different than today, whatever our "knowledge." But in theory, medieval people were skeptical of the utility of torture.

First, although the practice is well-attested in antiquity, pre-judicial (as opposed to punitive) torture is completely invisible in medieval sources until the thirteenth century. Scholars have linked this period, and its decline, to the trial by ordeal. In theory, trial by ordeal meant that God was the ultimate judge. Any proof obtained by human hands, including through torture, could never measure up to the definitive evidence proffered by "God" in the ordeal's outcome. (Side note: Medieval historians have generally concluded that trial by ordeal was actually a way for pre-existing community sentiment on a case to come to the foreground and gain legal legitimacy)

But while this shows a certain skepticism for the so-called Dark Ages, it doesn't say very good things for the period after Ad extirpanda and the other 13th century legitimizations of inquisitional torture. Nevertheless, it's clear that in rational, considered moments, medieval people remained aware of torture's limited utility--with the key in most cases being "limited," not "nonexistent." So, second: torture was only to be used, officially, to confirm guilt that was already known. It could not establish guilt in and of itself. This utilized the later medieval legal principle known as fama, which also means reputation or rumour. This was "what is known" about a person within their community--their reputation, but also gossip about their actions that was understood/accepted to be true. According to ecclesiastical inquisitors, only when a person's fama already help the true could an inquisition of the suspect, including in extreme cases torture, be applied. (You'll recognize an easy parallel to the role of the community in judging trials by ordeal, by proxy; here the judgment happens before any trial).

Third, confessions under torture were not technically sufficient legal proof. Inquisitors were required to obtain a repeat of the confession not under torture. On one hand, you've probably found the obvious flaw already: surely people would repeat their confession to avoid being tortured again, starting over. And there is of course a certain extent to which this is true; retractions after torture was finished are an endemic part of medieval trial records (the condemnation of the Templars being the obvious illustration). And yes, judges might indeed pay attention. In 1323, Niccolo Bandi of Parma (Italy) was charged with a series of five robberies, all of which he confessed to under torture. In court the next day, on the other hand, his defense was that he had indeed committed one burglary, because he was drunk and out of his wits, but the other ones he had confessed to "by error and by torture". One versus five was a monumentous distinction; it meant the difference between a punishment of public shame on one hand, and execution on the other. And in the end, the court accepted Bandi's claim that torture had extracted a false confession!

Overall, the need for confirmation/repetition of confession shows a lack of wholehearted confidence in the ability to torture to produce unassailable proof, even if there was still heavy coercion tilting towards a repeated confession.

Finally, yes, there are actually plenty of cases of individuals or groups explicitly asserting the superiority of evidence/proof acquired without torture. Towards the end of the Middle Ages/into the Reformation era, groups denounced as heretical by the Church began assembling lists of their own beliefs (known, of course, as "confessions"--think the Lutherans' Confession of Augsburg as an orthodox/mainstream example). Several of these insist something along the lines of "these are our beliefs freely given, not under torture" (since inquisitors had a way of extracting whatever set of heretical beliefs they wanted to hear--witchcraft stereotypes beng a akey example).

Many of the most famous denunciations come from England. John Fortescue of Glouchestershire (d. 1479) was chief justice and MP under Henry VI and Edward IV. In his legal treatise De laudibus legum angliae, he did not merely assert that confessions obtained by torture were invalid because they were extracted "not because of truth, but only because of irresistible torments." He stressed the importance of certainty in confession, which could never be obtained with torture given that element of doubt in there--and used this demand for certainty, which we've seen above as the need for unassailable proof, as a reason that the English system of prohibiting torture was superior to all the continental legal systems!

So yes, even though the coming witchcraft accusations and executions would depend so strongly on false confessions dragged out under torture, medieval people expressed and practiced their skepticism of its validity, though they did not reject it entirely.

Emotions and cruelty were certainly factors in individual cases of decisions to torture someone in the later Middle Ages--not so different than today, whatever our "knowledge." But in theory, medieval people were skeptical of the utility of torture.

First, although the practice is well-attested in antiquity, pre-judicial (as opposed to punitive) torture is completely invisible in medieval sources until the thirteenth century. Scholars have linked this period, and its decline, to the trial by ordeal. In theory, trial by ordeal meant that God was the ultimate judge. Any proof obtained by human hands, including through torture, could never measure up to the definitive evidence proffered by "God" in the ordeal's outcome. (Side note: Medieval historians have generally concluded that trial by ordeal was actually a way for pre-existing community sentiment on a case to come to the foreground and gain legal legitimacy)

But while this shows a certain skepticism for the so-called Dark Ages, it doesn't say very good things for the period after Ad extirpanda and the other 13th century legitimizations of inquisitional torture. Nevertheless, it's clear that in rational, considered moments, medieval people remained aware of torture's limited utility--with the key in most cases being "limited," not "nonexistent." So, second: torture was only to be used, officially, to confirm guilt that was already known. It could not establish guilt in and of itself. This utilized the later medieval legal principle known as fama, which also means reputation or rumour. This was "what is known" about a person within their community--their reputation, but also gossip about their actions that was understood/accepted to be true. According to ecclesiastical inquisitors, only when a person's fama already help the true could an inquisition of the suspect, including in extreme cases torture, be applied. (You'll recognize an easy parallel to the role of the community in judging trials by ordeal, by proxy; here the judgment happens before any trial).

Third, confessions under torture were not technically sufficient legal proof. Inquisitors were required to obtain a repeat of the confession not under torture. On one hand, you've probably found the obvious flaw already: surely people would repeat their confession to avoid being tortured again, starting over. And there is of course a certain extent to which this is true; retractions after torture was finished are an endemic part of medieval trial records (the condemnation of the Templars being the obvious illustration). And yes, judges might indeed pay attention. In 1323, Niccolo Bandi of Parma (Italy) was charged with a series of five robberies, all of which he confessed to under torture. In court the next day, on the other hand, his defense was that he had indeed committed one burglary, because he was drunk and out of his wits, but the other ones he had confessed to "by error and by torture". One versus five was a monumentous distinction; it meant the difference between a punishment of public shame on one hand, and execution on the other. And in the end, the court accepted Bandi's claim that torture had extracted a false confession!

Overall, the need for confirmation/repetition of confession shows a lack of wholehearted confidence in the ability to torture to produce unassailable proof, even if there was still heavy coercion tilting towards a repeated confession.

Finally, yes, there are actually plenty of cases of individuals or groups explicitly asserting the superiority of evidence/proof acquired without torture. Towards the end of the Middle Ages/into the Reformation era, groups denounced as heretical by the Church began assembling lists of their own beliefs (known, of course, as "confessions"--think the Lutherans' Confession of Augsburg as an orthodox/mainstream example). Several of these insist something along the lines of "these are our beliefs freely given, not under torture" (since inquisitors had a way of extracting whatever set of heretical beliefs they wanted to hear--witchcraft stereotypes beng a akey example).

Many of the most famous denunciations come from England. John Fortescue of Glouchestershire (d. 1479) was chief justice and MP under Henry VI and Edward IV. In his legal treatise De laudibus legum angliae, he did not merely assert that confessions obtained by torture were invalid because they were extracted "not because of truth, but only because of irresistible torments." He stressed the importance of certainty in confession, which could never be obtained with torture given that element of doubt in there--and used this demand for certainty, which we've seen above as the need for unassailable proof, as a reason that the English system of prohibiting torture was superior to all the continental legal systems!

So yes, even though the coming witchcraft accusations and executions would depend so strongly on false confessions dragged out under torture, medieval people expressed and practiced their skepticism of its validity, though they did not reject it entirely.