How are we to properly assess one person’s life lived? What
criteria should we apply? What standards are relevant to our decision? What
examination should guide our decisions?
In the year 2017, this has become more than a philosophical
question. Rather, it has become virtually a daily challenge for us as news
headlines routinely present a series of individuals for our judgment. Most
notably has been a divisive debate over our statues and memorabilia to
Confederate leaders in the American Civil War, and the tsunami of accusations
of sexual assault against entertainers and other public officials.
For some, the discussion is easy. Guilt or innocence is
black and white in absolute terms. There are good people and there are bad
people. For others, the assessment is not so easy, oftentimes presenting such
questions is a gray hue. Why do otherwise good people do bad things? Why do
otherwise bad people do good things? Depending on one’s perspective and
circumstances, was Robin Hood a mere thief stealing from the rich, or a savior
of the suffering poor?
From a religious perspective, the question is never easy.
The Christian asks us to love our neighbor without exception, and to judge not
lest we be judged. The Buddhist asks us to love the person while also resisting
his/her “unhealthy” actions. The Jew tells us not to take vengeance or bear a
grudge against our neighbor. The Moslem asks us to repel evil deeds by
responding with good deeds. If we aspire to be a person of faith, our scripture
teachings will not give us much comfort in the land of black and white. So what
compass do we follow out of this wilderness?
First and foremost, we ought to remind ourselves that the
people we are tempted to judge are just that – people. Fallible, inconsistent,
and often incomprehensible human beings. Humans are fully capable of operating
on both sides of judgement, even as one side may dominate over the other. We
are capable of doing good work and supporting other humans, even as we have our
secrets and regrets for past actions that we guard from public display. Our
history cannot be relived; our desired apologies are likely too late; our
values, thinking and beliefs likely change in each of our successive decades.
Right and wrong are rarely absolute, but are most often circumstantial. Because
of their contradictions, assessing our contemporaries is hard enough. How to
assess our ancestors can feel virtually impossible.
Today, we are witnessing a seeming never-ending flow of
women coming forward to take on the powerful over acts of abuse they have
experienced. And this time they are being heard. In many instances, these acts
go back years, even decades, held in secret by a convergence of cultural
apathy, the power of money and influence, the feeling of being all alone and
humiliated, the “blame the victim” retaliation, and the sense of powerlessness.
But when Gretchen Carlson went public with her story of abuse from Roger Ailes,
the head of Fox News, and she won, it opened the gates to a flood of shared
stories involving other perpetrators and their victims. Each woman who has come
forth has created a domino effect of encouragement, and a safety net for others
who have finally been able to think: “Maybe now they will believe me, and maybe
I can help to stop this in the future.”
And so the once-mighty are falling. Weinstein, Spacey,
Cosby, Lewis CK, Roy Moore; the list grows. Yet one cannot summarily dismiss
the reality of the brilliant movies and acting careers enabled by Weinstein;
the acting accomplishments of Spacey; the racial barriers broken by Cosby.
Those accomplishments are as real as their indecencies. The juxtaposition of acclaimed
artistry adjacent to the endless abuse of power are not easily assimilated in
our collective minds. Yet both are all too real.
The same difficult conflict exists with our historical
figures and personal ancestors, complicated by the passage of time, changes of
circumstances, and altered social norms and scientific opinion. We admire John
Kennedy and his Peace Corps alongside images of Jackie, Caroline and John-John,
while acknowledging his White House womanizing. We admire the high oratory of
Abraham Lincoln who ended slavery while preserving the Union, even as we
acknowledge his opposition to “mixing the races” and his suspension of civil
liberties during the Civil War. We admire the brilliance of Thomas Jefferson’s
Declaration of Independence that proclaimed “all men are created equal,” even
as he concurrently condoned limiting such equality. We canonize George
Washington for winning the Revolution and turning the ideal of our unique
Constitution into a working government, even as his slaves maintained his
plantation at Mount Vernon. Southerners revere Robert E, Lee and assorted
leaders of the Confederacy as well as the everyday grunt soldier for their
wartime skills and their “noble sacrifice for the Cause,” even as we must
finally acknowledge that they were insurrectionists attempting to break up the
American Union, and their Cause of slavery was anything but noble – an
abomination, in fact – and their Cause was defeated.
Monuments have been built, schools and buildings and
institutions have been named, and quotations have been repeated for such
contemporary and historical persons. Each had worthy output of note; each had
output or conduct that is seen as unacceptable in today’s norms. So what
monuments do we build? Which do we tear down or un-name?
We ought do well to anoint our heroes cautiously. The
Abrahamic religious traditions talk about a full accounting of our life before
God. If each life – including our own – has its share of “good and evil,” then
both sides of that ledger will have entries. When we are required to assess the
quality of any individual life lived, we need to avoid easy absolute judgements
– a person is all good or all bad – and rather make the harder effort for a
“net” assessment. Did the “good” (his/her contributions to the betterment of
society) outweigh the “bad” (detrimental actions toward society)? And in the
cases of historical figures, good and bad must necessarily also be measured
against the cultural norms of the times – just as our honorable actions today
must not be wholly assessed against the different societal norms of 100 years
from now.
So I will watch a Weinstein movie and appreciate its
brilliance, even as I support his expulsion from his Weinstein Corporation and
the Motion Picture Academy. I will support the Jefferson Memorial, even as I
acknowledge his slave-holding and affair with Sally Hemmings. Roy Moore has
given a lifetime of public service, but he does not deserve a U.S. Senate seat
due to a lifetime of ill-will towards others. I will support a statue of a Confederate
soldier honoring a commitment to bravery and allegiance to community, but move
that statue to a Confederate cemetery. Similarly, the Confederate Battle Flag
and other War artifacts should be kept but moved into appropriate museums. They
are historical memorabilia which have no place on public government grounds
that serve all citizens. I would leave the statue of General Robert E. Lee at
Washington & Lee University honoring his military leadership, university presidency,
and model behavior for post-war reconciliation. Yet any statues of General
Nathan Bedford Forrest, founder of the Ku Klux Klan, should be obliterated due
to his continued fight against such reconciliation. Un-name that which is no
longer appropriate, but perhaps find another commemoration where appropriate.
Service to the Confederacy should not be an automatic disqualifier for
commemoration – what else did that person do in life? Extend compassion to the
person; deter, condemn, and punish when necessary his/her unhealthy actions. For
it is through compassion that we open that most difficult door to healing and
forgiveness.
In the end, these are case-by-case decisions, not global
knee-jerk ones. They should be made predicated on the harder work of taking a
balanced view of a life’s contribution, without Monday-morning quarterbacking
the times and circumstances. However, what is important in all cases is that we
tell the FULL and complete story of these lives, not just selected versions.
Stories of how good can be done in spite of our human shortcomings, and how bad
can be done in spite of our propensity for good. How we choose to live, and how
we resolve our human contradictions, is the real story of our lives. I am
comfortable in these contradictions, because they are my own very human contradictions.
© 2017
Randy Bell www.ThoughtsFromTheMountain.blogspot.com