Thursday, December 4, 2014

Question Authority


The Grand Jury’s failure to indict officer Daniel Pantaleo in the Eric Garner case is, I believe, fundamentally different from the outcome of the Darren Wilson / Michael Brown case, and arguably different from the George Zimmerman/Trayvon Martin case and any of a number of other white-on-black police killings of civilians in which the officers involved claimed to be reacting out of fear for their own lives. Whether we choose to believe any or all of them is, of course, a personal decision. 

Eric Garner had no gun.  He didn’t put his hand in his pocket (not that there would have been anything wrong with that, of course, other than that it would have provided a convenient excuse for the aggressive cop, Pantaleo, and his four – count ‘em, four – fellow officers to claim that they “feared for their lives.”)  He made no threatening moves whatsoever. 

This guy's "crime" was selling untaxed cigarettes. Let’s pause right there and ask ourselves whether the crime rate on Staten Island is so low that selling loose cigarettes on a street corner warrants dispatching five officers to the scene.  Weren’t there at least one or two auto body shops laundering money for the mob that might have made better targets for investigation that day?  But, putting that aside for the moment, Garner was put in a chokehold, in clear violation of NYPD rules. No one disputes this, and if they did, the entire incident was captured on video to set the record straight. In case you haven’t yet seen the video, here it is. 

Eric Garner had asthma.  He said the words “I can’t breathe” to the officers eleven times. He couldn’t breathe, and he died.  The medical examiner labeled the cause of death “homicide.” 

That this happened is wrong on so many levels; I cannot conceive how a Grand Jury fell for Officer Pantaleo’s semantics-and-remorse story (‘it wasn’t a chokehold, it was a takedown’) so hard that they failed to indict.  Failed to indict!  An indictment is not a finding of guilt, it simply means there is an accusation that warrants a trial.  This cop was clearly in the wrong.  There should have been a trial.

I am fortunate to have friends who align themselves all across the political spectrum.  We know that we’ve chosen to associate with each other because we like each other, regardless of any political disagreements we may have (and, given the breadth of the spectrum, I am always in disagreement with somebody.)

On this issue, perhaps unsurprisingly, some of my friends who hail from the right (and who, not coincidentally, are white) have been playing down or outright denying the existence of a racially-based pattern among fatal police encounters with civilians.  They’ve been focusing on behavior patterns of the victims – which is to say, the dead. 

They believe cops have a difficult job (no argument there – they most certainly do.)  They believe that cops, and authority figures in general, deserve to be shown respect (more on that in a moment) and that the only pattern connecting the dots between Eric Garner, Michael Brown, Trayvon Martin and all the others is the victims’ own failure to “comply with authority.” 

I’m going to offer up a partial quote, actually a passage taken from an oath that public servants once routinely recited, that I suspect my friends who hold these beliefs will find appealing.  I’ll fill in the remainder of the quote later. No peeking:

I shall be loyal and obedient [passage deleted], respect the laws, and fulfill my official duties conscientiously, so help me God. Loyal and obedient.  A plug for the Almighty.  Good stuff.

If I had to summarize, in just two words, all that I learned during my four years at college, the summary would be “question authority.”  Not reject, not despise, not provoke, but question authority.  To question authority is, I believe, to actively engage in critical thinking; a skill essential to our survival as a species.

Authority is power, and with power comes responsibility.  We all have a certain level of authority within our personal domains, if nothing more than the authority to make our own choices.  We are obligated to ourselves to make good choices.  That is the responsibility we all bear by virtue of being human. 

People who occupy positions in which they have power over others, in whatever form, for whatever reason, have a concomitantly higher level of responsibility than those who do not. The impacts of their decisions and actions extend beyond themselves, and can therefore have far-reaching consequences.

When I was a child, medical doctors were considered authority figures.  They were the all-knowing, Buick-driving Marcus Welbys of the world (apologies to younger readers with whom these ancient pop culture references will fail to resonate.)  We normal, which is to say relatively powerless, humans never questioned the judgment or actions of a doctor.  We didn’t ask for second opinions. We didn’t sue for malpractice when things went terribly wrong.  Such things could never have been the fault of doctors, because, well, they were authority figures. 

So, when my father was paralyzed by a botched spinal surgery, my parents never questioned the surgeon.  He was a doctor.  Years later, when our family’s avuncular family physician – a true Marcus Welby type who still made house calls – came to the house to diagnose my bedridden father’s sudden flu-like symptoms, he declared that it was, in fact the flu, and recommended the usual remedies. Within a day, my father was dead. The aortal aneurism that Dr. Welby had failed to diagnose had bled out.  But he was a doctor, so naturally the concept of “fault” never crossed my bereaved mother’s mind.  She Respected Authority; she did not question it.

The world has grown tremendously more complicated.  As a corporate manager, I am viewed as an authority figure by those I manage.  I am constantly vigilant with regard to my own behavior, hyper-aware of that reality.  My statements and actions may have exponentially impactful effects involving other people in meaningful ways, positive or negative.  I hold myself to stringent standards of behavior, and go out of my way to ensure that my directions, my comments, my motives are not misinterpreted.  I am an authority figure, so I’m held to a higher standard of responsibility than would otherwise be the case.  This is as it should be.

Doctors are sworn to abide by the Hippocratic Oath (or, I learned by Googling, some modernized version of it.) The legal and moral obligations of corporate managers are laid out in various internal and external policy statements and employment contracts.  Police officers take an oath of some sort (“to protect and serve” or something similar) and wear a badge as a visible symbol of their power and authority.  There are countless other examples (teachers, firefighters, attorneys, EMTs, clergy members, and on and on) of professions that require symbolic expressions aimed at ensuring that practitioners are worthy of the public trust.  And, as all are human, there are inevitably “good” and “bad” professionals of every stripe – those who live up to the commitment they’ve made, and those who do not.

Power and authority can save lives, ruin lives, cripple, or kill.  Power and authority, counter to appearances, are not conveyed in full at the moment an oath is taken or a badge is awarded.  Power and authority, all of it, flows from those who are not in power: the governed, the citizenry, the patients, the students, the taxed, the voters.   

One who abuses his/her power is destined to lose it, sooner or later. This can happen at the individual level, swiftly (as when one is indicted and convicted) or it can happen at the macro level, with time, when critical mass is reached – as when, for example, the countless childhood victims of clergy abuse {perhaps the ultimate abuse of power} finally came forward, shattering years of silence and nearly bringing down the Catholic church.  Those victims were not only right, they were morally compelled to speak out and – wait for it – Question Authority.

We are witnessing another groundswell.  Whatever the underlying reasons may be – and people can and will continue to disagree as to what they are – there have simply been too many incidents involving unjustified, fatal white-on-black encounters with police. We are reaching critical mass.  We have already seen rioting.  We will see more. The Eric Garner case will ultimately prove to be a tipping point.  It was clear-cut, unambiguous.  It was documented with videotape.  And still, the guy with the badge walked.  I question his authority.  So should we all.

“I shall be loyal and obedient to Adolf Hitler, the Führer of the German Reich and people, respect the laws, and fulfill my official duties conscientiously, so help me God.”  --- mandatory Oath of Loyalty for public officials, enacted into German law, August 20th, 1934.