How a society treats the most vulnerable among us most
certainly defines our collective soul. The revelations at Penn State are a
clear example.
That the nation should be outraged is one
thing. Child abuse in any form is abhorrent. And there will be many who
will find it convenient to prick the reputation of one of those major
university football powers that we thought "did it the right way."
Others are simply sick of the premature anointing of Joe Paterno as a
living saint.
For those who have been involved with universities or
any institutional setting where the primary purpose is to provide
services to vulnerable persons, the circumstances are particularly
stressful. Here we find that although some persons lived up to the
letter of the law (i.e., reported through the chain of command), others
did not. But we do know that even of those who did their legal duty,
most did little more. Perhaps nothing more.
One of the
perspectives that has been spoken about extensively is the Penn State
community itself. How is it reacting? I've read that people are hurt,
and angry, and maybe bewildered. Some rally around the coach, but no one
can imagine that the children should not have been more central to the
decisions that were (or were not) made so many years ago. In a community
where there was such a self-conscious sense of decency, how could that
occur? How could the formal leaders of a "great" institution be so
careful to do the minimum, if that?
Perhaps the answer is that the very culture that
developed around graduating a large number of football players created a
cocoon that protected not the children, but the idea that the moral
leaders of Penn State could never make an error in judgment. Joe Paterno
was described by one commentator as the moral compass of that community.
If so, how does one imagine that the moral compass might ever point in
the wrong direction? If the community allowed itself to believe that
true, then everyone's first reaction to the situation would have to be
disbelief.
In that context I think about the 28 year
old adult who observed sodomy in 2002. Clearly the event concerned him,
however, not in a manner that caused him to intervene or report to the
police. Maybe it was his personal relationship with the family of the
accused that caused him to sneak out of the shower. In the end he
reported the event to his father and then Joe Paterno. Maybe in his mind
going to Paterno represented the best way to resolve the problem.
Paterno was the moral compass. Paterno would handle it properly. By
going to Paterno, maybe he thought he had truly done his duty.
We have for many years suggested that quality management is no one
person's responsibility. It is not just Joe Paterno's responsibility,
nor just the President's responsibility, nor just the responsibility of
the police. It is everyone's responsibility. When we cede so much of our
moral duty to one or a few people, perhaps we have no right to be angry
at anyone but ourselves.
Keep in mind that
whatever the apparent goodness of Penn State's football program in
comparison with others around the country, every program exists in the
context of the BCS bowl dollars that will attach themselves to the most
successful program. All programs, even Penn State's, exist in a world
where they have become the "minor league" for the NFL. (Think about it,
the most profitable of all sports leagues -- unlike baseball and hockey
-- refuses to provide an alternative venue for the development of
players who do not want to attend college.) Many programs also exist is
the small town world where a smaller community of elders often controls
thought and access to small town rewards. In other words, there are
systemic issues that would likely have affected how all the principals
might react to what should have been moral outrage of child sexual
abuse. (In these first few days of the news, one of my first reactions
is Henrik Ibsen's play, An Enemy of the
People, only in this case no one ever chose
to play the role "the enemy".)
As this
process moves forward, we should ask ourselves the following question:
If Penn State football and campus leadership could cave to the pressures
of the BCS, the NFL and the social environment in which it exists,
should we not look at this as an opportunity to ask some fundamental
questions beyond
the immediate problem of who should have done more? If all that college
athletics might cause is an errant circumstance where a player trades a
jersey for a tattoo, so what? But if the complex mix of sports,
education, community and culture can allow a child to be raped in a
shower, we all have to consider whether it is the system that is also
sick. (Presently there seems to be a groundswell of opinion blaming the
28 year old as the immediate cause of the injustice. Why didn't he
immediately intervene? In retrospect he should have; but to focus
attention on that element of this sad story is the equivalent of finding
the rank-and-file employee closest to a disaster and blaming him for the
consequence.)
In the end, whether a
university, human service organization, or General Motors, we need to
create systems where everyone feels responsible
not
to the system, but to the moral compass to
which the system points. And that moral
compass must reside in all of our souls. It is only in that circumstance
that we have a right to expect the ordinary among us (i.e., the vast
majority who are not destined to be heroes) to succeed in protecting our
most vulnerable citizens.